The Alpha King's Two Faced Mate

One Night Stand With the Alpha Who Rejected Me-

"You smell that, little wolf?"

The whisper didn't come from the air, but from the back of Sharon’s mind, a dark vibration that made her fingers curl tightly around the steering wheel. She killed the engine, the silence of the coastal drive suddenly feeling heavy. The scent was faint—a ghost of cedar, rain-drenched earth, and something metallic that made her inner wolf pace with frantic, jagged energy.

She hadn't smelled that scent in four years.

"Not possible," Sharon whispered to the empty car. She forced her breathing to level out, her eyes scanning the gravel path leading to her cottage. The Oregon mist was rolling in, thick and gray, swallowing the pines. Everything looked normal. Her small porch light was on, the flowerbeds she’d spent all spring weeding were damp from the afternoon drizzle, and the curtains were drawn. It was the picture of a quiet, human life.

Then the front door flew open.

"Mama! You're home!" Alexander came charging off the porch, his small boots thumping against the wood before he hit the gravel at a full sprint.

Sharon was out of the car before he could reach her, bracing herself as he launched into her arms. Even at five years old, Alexander had the explosive strength of his lineage, his small body a compact bundle of energy. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of flour and laundry detergent.

"Oof, you're getting so big, Xander," she laughed, though her eyes never stopped moving, searching the tree line for shadows that didn't belong.

"Blie let me help with the pancakes!" he announced, his voice vibrating against her chest. "I flipped one and it didn't even fall on the floor!"

"That’s my boy," Sharon said, finally setting him down but keeping a firm hand on his shoulder.

Blie stepped out onto the porch, her infant daughter strapped to her chest in a soft wrap. She offered a tired but warm smile. "He’s a natural in the kitchen, Sharon. My little one, on the other hand, decided today was the day for a twelve-hour lung capacity test."

"I'm sorry, Blie. I owe you one," Sharon said, her voice sounding tight even to her own ears.

"Don't worry about it. You look exhausted. Rough shift?"

"Something like that," Sharon replied, her gaze flickering to the woods behind Blie's head. The shadows there seemed too deep, too intentional. "The wind is picking up. You should probably get the baby inside."

Blie frowned slightly, sensing the shift in Sharon’s mood, but she nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow? Don't forget we're doing the park run."

"I won't. Get home safe."

Once Blie’s car disappeared down the road, Sharon ushered Alexander inside and locked the door. She slid the deadbolt home with a decisive click, but the hollow feeling in her stomach didn't vanish. The kitchen was a disaster zone of sticky syrup and flour, but she didn't have