Mara Evans woke to a strange, haunting silence. The room was dim, unfamiliar. The thick curtains shut out the morning light, but enough filtered in for her to see the elegant furnishings, the oversized bed... and the crumpled sheets beside her.
Empty.
She was alone.
And she had no idea where she was.
Her body throbbed with aches—deep, intimate aches that reminded her of the night before. Heat rushed to her cheeks as vivid images flared to life in her mind: the Alpha King's piercing golden eyes, his breath hot against her skin, his trembling hands that had both cradled and claimed her.
It hadn't been rough, nor cruel.
No, that was what confused her most.
He had touched her like she mattered. Like she was something sacred. But how could that be? She was just a maid. Cursed, scentless, hidden from the world.
And yet… last night, under the cloak of moonlight and shadows, she had felt—no, *known*—that something powerful had passed between them.
Her first time.
And it had been with the Alpha King.
The pain between her thighs was a dull reminder of the intensity they had shared. She pushed the sheet off her, winced as she stood, and shuffled toward the nearby washroom. The mirror didn't lie.
She looked ruined.
Hair tangled, lips bruised and swollen, her neck littered with love bites. Her uniform lay on the floor like the forgotten shell of a girl who'd stepped into a world she had no right entering.
**2. Panic and Flight**
Fear clawed at her throat. *What have I done?*
This couldn't be known. No one could know.
She stumbled into her clothes, each movement sharp and raw, her breathing uneven. If someone found her here, if anyone suspected—
A knock startled her. Not loud. Not urgent. But she flinched like a deer sensing the hunter's arrow.
She had to get out.
Gripping the doorframe for support, she slipped into the hallway. It was quiet. Too quiet. Her breath caught as she navigated the unfamiliar corridors. She didn't belong in the Alpha's private wing. If someone saw her—
"Lady Bess," she gasped, breathless, when she finally reached the older woman's door.
The head maid blinked, then rushed forward. "Mara? What on earth—?"
Bess took one look at her and pulled her inside.
"My goddess, child. What happened to you?"
Mara could barely speak. Her lips trembled. She wanted to tell her. She *needed* to. But the words wouldn't come.
Lady Bess examined her closely. Her eyes sharpened. "You're still scentless. But you look like you've just been through a war."
"I need to leave the packhouse," Mara whispered. "Please. Somewhere far. Somewhere no one will ask questions."
Bess didn't argue. Her old eyes softened. "The pack hospital. It's near the border, quiet, isolated. I'll transfer you myself."
Relief broke through Mara's panic. She collapsed into the older woman's arms and sobbed.
**3. The Alpha's Confusion**
Elsewhere, Alpha Malcolm Rodgers stood shirtless in front of his shattered mirror, shards scattered across the marble floor. His fist bled from the impact, crimson streaking down his wrist.
He was losing his mind.
One night.
One girl.
No name. No scent. No trace.
And yet he couldn't stop thinking about her. Dreaming of her. Every detail felt burned into his soul—the tremble in her breath, the heat of her skin, the way her body had molded to his like she belonged there.
His Lycan stirred restlessly inside him.
*Find her. She is ours. Ours!*
But how? She had no scent.
Only peace.
A peace that calmed the storm inside him for the first time in centuries.
He hadn't touched a woman the same way in 450 years. Not even Katrina, who threw herself at him in every subtle—and not-so-subtle—way.
This girl had undone him. Without a name. Without a trace.
He mindlinked his Beta.
*Michael. Now.*
**4. The Search Begins**
Michael Berg arrived minutes later, looking rough from a night of drinking. "What's the emergency?"
Malcolm paced like a caged animal. "I found her. I found my mate."
Michael froze. "What?"
"I don't have proof. No scent. But I *know* it was her."
Michael blinked. "But you said there was no scent—"
"I know what I felt, Mike. My Lycan... he purred. *Purred*. I've never—"
Michael held up a hand. "Okay. Okay. I believe you. What do you remember?"
Malcolm closed his eyes, recalling every sensation. "She was small. Warm. Terrified. But brave. She didn't cry. She didn't speak. But she held on. Like she didn't want to let go either."
"And you didn't recognize her?"
"No."
"She could've been a maid. A nurse. Someone from the border?"
Malcolm nodded. "Possibly."
Michael sighed. "I'll investigate. Discreetly. But scentless girls? That's like hunting a ghost."
Malcolm's eyes darkened. "Then become a ghost hunter."
**5. New Life, New Fear**
Two weeks passed. At the remote hospital, Mara tried to find rhythm in routine. Cleaning. Washing. Checking vitals.
She hadn't shifted. Her wolf still slept.
And she still had no scent.
But something else was changing.
She hadn't had her monthly bleed.
And the nausea…
The head nurse handed her a small paper bag one morning. "A visitor dropped this for you. No name."
Mara opened it to find a pregnancy test.
Her hands shook as she took it into the small restroom.
Minutes later, she stood in front of the mirror again, her heart slamming against her ribs.
Two lines.
Clear. Bold. Unmistakable.
She was pregnant.
The Alpha King's child grew inside her.
She slid down the wall, weeping silently.
**6. The Scent of Rain**
Elsewhere, Malcolm sat beneath the rising sun, sipping black coffee. It had become a ritual. He watched the eastern wind, *waiting*.
Then it came.
So faint. But unmistakable.
Rain.
His Lycan roared inside him.
He dropped the cup and shifted mid-stride, black fur exploding from his skin. Massive paws thundered across the field.
He didn't know where he was going—but the Lycan did.
He followed the scent.
And then he saw her.
She stood outside the pack hospital, pale blue robes around her, holding a baby wrapped in cream.
His breath caught.
Her eyes widened as he approached.
"Mara," he breathed.
Her lips parted. "Alpha..."
"You... it's you."
She nodded.
He stepped forward slowly. "Why did you leave?"
"I was cursed. A dark witch. She made me scentless so my mate would never find me."
"And now?"
"When I gave birth... the curse broke."
He looked at the child. Something in him *clicked*. This tiny boy—he *knew* him. Every cell in his body sang with it.
"He's mine."
She nodded.
He looked at her, voice low and reverent. "So are you."