Marked by fate

Rose's POV

I was headed to the Alpha's chamber to send him food as requested by Dorothy.

She had begged me earlier to help her send the food to him as she needed to attend to something urgently. 

Even though I was bone-tired, I couldn't refuse her. I loved Dorothy dearly. She had helped me settle into the Pack when I first arrived, guided me through the rules, and stood by me whenever I found myself in trouble.

Since arriving at the Black Moon Pack, I had never seen Alpha Jackson up close. I had seen Diva, his betrothed, a couple of times and she was a pain in the neck, always nagging and complaining. She always stepped on my toes. I never knew why she hated me so much, maybe because I was an omega. 

The only time I'd caught a glimpse of him was from afar during a morning run, and even then, it wasn't very clear. But I'd heard the stories. . . so many stories.

They said he was brutal, cold, and terrifyingly powerful. That he once stabbed a slave three times for refusing to sleep with him. That he killed his own guard for leaving the palace to check on his ailing mate without permission. And yet, despite the rumors, countless she-wolves would kill for a chance with him. Because he was dangerously handsome.

Just thinking about him made a chill run down my spine. The idea of entering his room, of being alone with him, had my heart pounding. What if he killed me? What if he forced himself on me?

Why did Dorothy have to send me? I never wanted to be in a situation like this. 

As I trudged down the corridor, my stomach was roaring. I hadn't eaten all day. I could literally finish a whole bowl of porridge. 

It had been a long, draining day at the Pack. A group of visitors from the neighboring Pack had come to mine crude oil, and after they left, we spent hours cleaning up after them. I had just finished my palace chores and all I wanted was a hot meal and a soft bed before I collapsed.

My mind spiraled with awful possibilities as I approached his door. That was when I noticed a scent in the air, sweet vanilla mixed with chocolate. Enticing, addictive. The closer I got, the stronger it became. I could stay like that forever. 

I knocked softly.

No response.

I knocked again. Still nothing.

"I think you should just go in and drop the juice," Rhea, my wolf, suggested. "He's probably out handling Pack business. You'll be in and out."

Wanting to be done with it as quickly as possible and get some rest, I sighed and turned the knob.

The sitting room was empty. But I could hear something, moaning. Cries. The scent of vanilla and chocolate still lingered thick in the air. The sounds grew louder the deeper I went.

A she-wolf's voice, ragged and