The Alpha's Hidden Heir

The forest was too quiet.

Lyra's boots barely made a sound as she moved through the undergrowth, her breath slow and controlled. Every instinct screamed at her to turn back, but she ignored it. She had been hunted before-she knew what it felt like.

But this time was different.

This time, the hunters weren't just after her.

Her son, her secret, her everything, slept in the small cabin she had hidden him in-far from the eyes of the pack, far from the reach of his father.

And now, they had found her.

A soft rustling came from the shadows ahead. Lyra stilled, her hand tightening around the dagger at her waist. The scent hit her a second later-wolves. But not just any wolves.

Rogues.

A low growl rumbled through the trees. Then another.

Her pulse quickened.

They weren't alone.

A cold voice sliced through the night. "Going somewhere, little wolf?"

Lyra didn't flinch, but she knew that voice too well. Knew the smirk in it, the cruelty laced beneath every word.

Langster.

Slowly, she turned. He stood a few feet away, leaning against a tree like he had all the time in the world. His golden eyes gleamed with amusement, his sharp features twisted in a smirk.

Behind him, shadows moved-his rogues. Five, maybe six of them, circling like vultures waiting for the kill.

Lyra lifted her chin. "You're a long way from your territory, Langster."

His smirk widened. "Am I? Or have you been standing in my territory all along?"

The words sent ice through her veins.

He knew.

Somehow, he knew.

She tightened her grip on her dagger. "I don't have time for your games."

Langster tsked. "But you always did love a challenge, didn't you? Running, hiding, pretending you could escape the past." He took a slow step forward. "Did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

She said nothing. Silence was safer.

Because if she spoke, she might betray the one secret she had fought to keep.

Langster studied her for a moment, then tilted his head. "I wonder..." His voice was softer now, more dangerous. "What is it you're protecting out here, Lyra?"

A single howl split the air. Then another.

Her stomach dropped.

The rogues weren't just here for her.

They were here for her son.

The first thing Cassian noticed was the scent of blood.

It was faint, but distinct-metallic and sharp beneath the crisp night air. His wolf bristled.

Something was wrong.

He moved swiftly through the trees, his warriors following close behind. The reports had come in an hour ago-rogue activity near the eastern border. But he hadn't expected this.

A small cabin stood in the clearing ahead. The scent of fresh pine masked something deeper, something hidden beneath the surface.

Cassian's gut twisted.

Lyra.

His breath came faster as he moved forward, the memories hitting him all at once.

The mate bond he had rejected. The woman he had pushed away.

And yet, here she was, hiding on the outskirts of his land, caught in the middle of a rogue attack.

A growl rumbled in his chest.

This wasn't a coincidence.

A piercing scream cut through the night. Then-a child's cry.

Cassian froze.

The sound clawed at something deep inside him, something instinctual, something undeniable.

His eyes snapped toward the cabin just as a rogue wolf lunged out of the shadows.

Cassian didn't hesitate. He shifted mid-air, his wolf taking over in a blur of black fur and raw power.

Teeth met flesh. The rogue yelped, but Cassian didn't stop-he tore through them, one by one, until the ground was slick with blood.

By the time the last rogue fell, Cassian was panting, his wolf still on edge.

Then he saw her.

Lyra stood at the entrance of the cabin, her dagger dripping crimson. Her clothes were torn, her face bruised, but her eyes-gods, her eyes.

Fierce. Unyielding.

But behind that fire, there was something else. Something she couldn't hide fast enough.

Fear.

Cassian shifted back, his breaths still heavy. "Lyra."

She didn't move.

Then, from inside the cabin-a whimper. Small. Fragile.

Cassian's entire body went still.

The scent was faint beneath the smoke and blood, but it was there.

A child.

His wolf snarled, something primal twisting deep within him.

He stepped forward, voice low. "Who is inside that cabin?"

Lyra's dagger lifted slightly. "Stay back."

He didn't.

He pushed forward, ignoring the warning in her eyes, ignoring the silent plea she tried to mask behind her anger.

Then he saw him.

The boy couldn't have been older than three, dark curls tousled from sleep, his small fists clutching a worn blanket.

But it wasn't the child's face that stole Cassian's breath.

It was his eyes.

Golden. Just like his own.

Cassian's world shifted beneath him. His wolf roared in his head, the truth undeniable.

He turned to Lyra, his voice barely a whisper. "Is he mine?"

Lyra's grip on her dagger trembled.

But she didn't answer.

She didn't have to.

Cassian already knew.

And gods help them both-because this changed everything.

Cassian's gaze darkened. His voice was low, edged with fury.

"You kept my son from me."

Lyra swallowed hard, heart pounding.

"I did what I had to."

Cassian's fists clenched. "No, Lyra. You lied."

A branch snapped in the distance. The scent of rogues still lingered in the air.

Cassian's rage burned, but one thing was clear-they weren't safe here.

He turned to her, voice sharp. "We leave now."

Lyra hesitated. "I'm not going back to the pack."

Cassian's golden eyes locked onto hers.

"You don't have a choice."

The forest was too quiet.

Lyra's boots barely made a sound as she moved through the undergrowth, her breath slow and controlled. Every instinct screamed at her to turn back, but she ignored it. She had been hunted before-she knew what it felt like.

But this time was different.

This time, the hunters weren't just after her.

Her son, her secret, her everything, slept in the small cabin she had hidden him in-far from the eyes of the pack, far from the reach of his father.

And now, they had found her.

A soft rustling came from the shadows ahead. Lyra stilled, her hand tightening around the dagger at her waist. The scent hit her a second later-wolves. But not just any wolves.

Rogues.

A low growl rumbled through the trees. Then another.

Her pulse quickened.

They weren't alone.

A cold voice sliced through the night. "Going somewhere, little wolf?"

Lyra didn't flinch, but she knew that voice too well. Knew the smirk in it, the cruelty laced beneath every word.

Langster.

Slowly, she turned. He stood a few feet away, leaning against a tree like he had all the time in the world. His golden eyes gleamed with amusement, his sharp features twisted in a smirk.

Behind him, shadows moved-his rogues. Five, maybe six of them, circling like vultures waiting for the kill.

Lyra lifted her chin. "You're a long way from your territory, Langster."

His smirk widened. "Am I? Or have you been standing in my territory all along?"

The words sent ice through her veins.

He knew.

Somehow, he knew.

She tightened her grip on her dagger. "I don't have time for your games."

Langster tsked. "But you always did love a challenge, didn't you? Running, hiding, pretending you could escape the past." He took a slow step forward. "Did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

She said nothing. Silence was safer.

Because if she spoke, she might betray the one secret she had fought to keep.

Langster studied her for a moment, then tilted his head. "I wonder..." His voice was softer now, more dangerous. "What is it you're protecting out here, Lyra?"

A single howl split the air. Then another.

Her stomach dropped.

The rogues weren't just here for her.

They were here for her son.

The first thing Cassian noticed was the scent of blood.

It was faint, but distinct-metallic and sharp beneath the crisp night air. His wolf bristled.

Something was wrong.

He moved swiftly through the trees, his warriors following close behind. The reports had come in an hour ago-rogue activity near the eastern border. But he hadn't expected this.

A small cabin stood in the clearing ahead. The scent of fresh pine masked something deeper, something hidden beneath the surface.

Cassian's gut twisted.

Lyra.

His breath came faster as he moved forward, the memories hitting him all at once.

The mate bond he had rejected. The woman he had pushed away.

And yet, here she was, hiding on the outskirts of his land, caught in the middle of a rogue attack.

A growl rumbled in his chest.

This wasn't a coincidence.

A piercing scream cut through the night. Then-a child's cry.

Cassian froze.

The sound clawed at something deep inside him, something instinctual, something undeniable.

His eyes snapped toward the cabin just as a rogue wolf lunged out of the shadows.

Cassian didn't hesitate. He shifted mid-air, his wolf taking over in a blur of black fur and raw power.

Teeth met flesh. The rogue yelped, but Cassian didn't stop-he tore through them, one by one, until the ground was slick with blood.

By the time the last rogue fell, Cassian was panting, his wolf still on edge.

Then he saw her.

Lyra stood at the entrance of the cabin, her dagger dripping crimson. Her clothes were torn, her face bruised, but her eyes-gods, her eyes.

Fierce. Unyielding.

But behind that fire, there was something else. Something she couldn't hide fast enough.

Fear.

Cassian shifted back, his breaths still heavy. "Lyra."

She didn't move.

Then, from inside the cabin-a whimper. Small. Fragile.

Cassian's entire body went still.

The scent was faint beneath the smoke and blood, but it was there.

A child.

His wolf snarled, something primal twisting deep within him.

He stepped forward, voice low. "Who is inside that cabin?"

Lyra's dagger lifted slightly. "Stay back."

He didn't.

He pushed forward, ignoring the warning in her eyes, ignoring the silent plea she tried to mask behind her anger.

Then he saw him.

The boy couldn't have been older than three, dark curls tousled from sleep, his small fists clutching a worn blanket.

But it wasn't the child's face that stole Cassian's breath.

It was his eyes.

Golden. Just like his own.

Cassian's world shifted beneath him. His wolf roared in his head, the truth undeniable.

He turned to Lyra, his voice barely a whisper. "Is he mine?"

Lyra's grip on her dagger trembled.

But she didn't answer.

She didn't have to.

Cassian already knew.

And gods help them both-because this changed everything.

Cassian's gaze darkened. His voice was low, edged with fury.

"You kept my son from me."

Lyra swallowed hard, heart pounding.

"I did what I had to."

Cassian's fists clenched. "No, Lyra. You lied."

A branch snapped in the distance. The scent of rogues still lingered in the air.

Cassian's rage burned, but one thing was clear-they weren't safe here.

He turned to her, voice sharp. "We leave now."

Lyra hesitated. "I'm not going back to the pack."

Cassian's golden eyes locked onto hers.

"You don't have a choice."