The Alpha's Forgotten Mate

"Stop, stop...oh my God, please don't take him, please!"

Annie's voice cracked, desperation clawing its way out of her throat. But her pleas meant nothing. The man didn't slow down.

"I swear, I'll kill you!" she screamed.

Her breath caught as she ran. She was exhausted, but she knew stopping wasn't an option.

The tears in her eyes blurred her vision.

She ran faster than her legs could carry

and her heart? It felt like it had dropped straight into her stomach.

"my son!" she cried out, voice raw.

Still, the man didn't look back. He just kept running, holding the baby tighter like he didn't care that the boy's mother was breaking apart behind him and the baby he was carrying was screaming.

Her feet stumbled over a root. She almost fell.

"Please," she pleaded, "he's all I have, please don't do this."

The man didn't answer. He just kept running toward the old pickup parked outside the cabin.

Annie grabbed a thick branch from the ground and pushed herself faster.

He turned at the sound of her footsteps,too late.

He heard her footsteps too late and turned just as the branch hit him.

The sound was awful and he fell down with the baby.

Marcel let out a soft cry, but the blanket cushioned his fall.

"No, no..." Annie whispered, dropping to her knees. She carried him up gently, checking his face.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here, moonlight. Mommy's here."

The baby stopped crying the second she touched him. His silver-gray eyes locked onto hers, wide and too alert for his age.

She kissed his forehead. Her lips trembling.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, patting his back slowly. "you are too little to be dragged into this Family feud. The Diego bloodline wants to pay dirty right?

I will make sure they pay for this.''

She broke down in tears and continued ''They want to wipe out our bloodline and take our place,but they failed,''

Baby Marcel giggled.

Annie laughed too, tears still rolling. "Yes, moonlight,You're born to rule the world and no one will take that from you. You're my future Alpha."

Behind her, the man's body lay still. Blood pooled around his head, soaking into the leaves.

Annie looked up at the night sky. The moon, almost full.

She stood, holding Marcel tight, and ran.

By sunrise, her legs were too tried to walk.Every step was like dragging a stone.

She reached a quiet neighbourhood,it was a narrow street, with peeling fences, and houses that looked too peaceful for what she was carrying.

A few houses down,she saw a woman, who was wearing a robe, barefooted.

The woman was watering flowers like it was just another morning. Annie hid behind a wooden fence, holding Marcel close making sure the woman didn't see her.

Her eyes moved quickly across the row, then settled on a brick house with light-blue windows and something small swaying on the porch. It looked... calm. Maybe even safe.

Annie pressed her lips to Marcel's cheek. "You'll be safe here," she whispered. "They won't know what you are. They'll just love you."

She placed him gently on the porch steps, wrapped tight in his blanket. His plastic elephant toy sat beside him, one ear chewed from teething.

Marcel whimpered.

Annie's hand hovered over his head.

"I love you," she breathed. "You'll feel it, even if you don't remember."

She stepped back into the trees, swallowed by shadows.

A minute passed.

Then the front door creaked open.

"John?" the woman inside called. "Did you order something? There's something on the,oh my God. John!"

She rushed out, barefoot, dropping to her knees.

"It's a baby," she cried. "There's a baby here!"

Her husband appeared behind her. "What the hell,where did he come from? There's no note."

The woman looked around wildly. "We have to call someone,I think we should call the police"

Police Station

Inside the station, an officer leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples.

"No missing baby reports," he said, reading off the screen. "No one's called about a lost infant. That's... unusual."

The woman who found Marcel held him close, rocking gently.

"He was just there," she said softly. "He wasn't cold. Someone had to have just left him."

The officer studied the child. "Healthy. No bruises. No ID. Nothing."

Another officer leaned in. "You sure you want to keep him with you for now?"

She nodded. "If no one comes forward... maybe it's a sign."

They left with the baby a few minutes later. As the door shut behind them, the younger officer muttered, "You feel that?"

"What?"

He glanced back at the hallway.

"I don't know. Like... a chill or something. That kid's eyes, did you see 'em? Gave me goosebumps.

Later that night...

Marcel was fast asleep, covered up in clean blankets, his tiny chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

The old plastic elephant was kept beside him, the color faded in places. His little hand rested on it like he wasn't ready to let go just yet.

He didn't even move when the woman leaned in again, gently pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. For the fifth time that night.

"He's perfect," she whispered, brushing a finger down his cheek.

Marcel was still holding the elephant.

Not tight, just... there. Like his hand forgot to let go.

And as he continued to grow,that thing was always with him,

He used to scream if anyone touched it. Threw it across the room once then cried until someone gave it back.

The paint started coming off when he was six. One eye disappeared a year later. Didn't matter.

It stopped sleeping beside him eventually. Ended up in the bottom drawer, under socks he didn't wear.

But he never got rid of it.

Some nights he would open the drawer and just look at it. Wouldn't touch it, even.

Just knowing it was there made things feel less heavy.

It was stupid, maybe. But that little elephant knew more about him than anyone else ever would.

Twenty-Five Years Later

Marcel's office was quiet.

Phones rang somewhere down the hall, but no one nearby spoke louder than a whisper. The whole floor felt tense.

By the water dispenser, three staff members stood together, speaking softly, their eyes drifting now and then to the office with the frosted glass door.

"I still can't believe Jacob got fired," Laura said. Her hands were wrapped around a coffee cup she hadn't touched in a while.

"He wasn't just fired," Sandra said. "It took less than a minute. No warning. Marcel just said, 'You're dismissed.' That was it."

Kennedy spoke without much emotion. "Jacob came late twice in one week. Mr. Johnson doesn't overlook things like that,he of all people should have known."

"The second time was because his wife was giving birth," Laura said quietly.

Sandra shook her head. "Didn't matter. Marcel told him last month, 'If you're late again, don't bother coming in.' He meant it."

For a moment, no one said anything. The sound of the air conditioning filled the space.

"He makes you nervous," Kennedy added. "Like, you don't even have to say anything. He just looks at you, and you feel like you did something wrong."

Laura nodded. "It's like he's always paying attention to things most people ignore."

Sandra hesitated. "Or maybe... he's hiding something. You ever notice the lights blink when he's upset?"

Kennedy glanced at her. "Not this again."

"I'm serious. Every time he walks by, it feels colder. I get goosebumps. Every time."

The sound of footsteps came from around the corner. Calm. Steady. No rush.

Sandra's face tightened. "Oh my God,Oh my God." she whispered.

It turned out to be Claire, Marcel's Personal Assistant.

She looked tense, holding her tablet like it was the only thing keeping her together. No hello. No small talk. She walked straight to Sandra.

"File," she said, voice clipped.

Sandra handed it over without question. Claire didn't even glance at her. The air felt tight, like the whole floor was holding its breath as she headed toward Marcel's office.

She knocked once, then cracked the door open.

"Mr. Johnson," she said, her voice strained. "Mr. Jeffries is here for the pitch. Should I..."

Marcel raised a hand without looking up.

Claire's mouth snapped shut.

"He's five minutes late," Marcel said, cool and measured. "The meeting's over."

She hesitated, frowning. "But sir.."

He finally looked at her. Calm. Direct. Unbothered.

That was all it took.

Claire nodded once. "Yes, sir."

She turned, leaving without another word.

"Also," Marcel added before the door shut, "if a meeting's set for eleven, it should start at eleven. Not a even a minute late."

"Understood."

The door clicked shut.

Marcel leaned back in his chair, eyes on the window. The city outside moved like it always did,cars crawling through traffic, people rushing across streets but none of it touched him. It might as well have been a movie playing behind glass.

He had everything on paper. Young. Sharp. Clean reputation. Exactly the kind of man you would expect to run a company like this. But nobody really knew him. Not really.

They didn't know about the dreams.

Every night 3:12 a.m. sharp he would bolt upright in bed, heart racing, drenched in sweat. Always having the same flashes a cabin, someone screaming, a man on the floor. A single cupcake, soft and pink. One candle flickering low. A woman's voice crying out,calling him ''my son,''

He didn't know why the past events was still haunting him.

He went straight to the fridge,when he opened it,he saw his cupcake. Small. Neat.

He never ate it. Never touched it. Just stared for a second, then shut the door. The Cupcake always reminded him of an old friend who he wasn't sure he would ever meet again.