A Witches Alpha

Prologue

The forest was always still, the air thick with silence as the magical barrier around Vendetta's cabin kept the world at bay. It was the way she liked it—undisturbed, far from the reach of prying eyes or the useless noise of others. To the world outside, her sanctuary didn't exist. Except for one person.

Seraphine.

Vendetta sat by the window, barely lifting her gaze when she sensed Seraphine entering through the magical boundary. The werewolf always brought a certain brightness with her, a vibrancy that clashed against Vendetta's quiet existence. But today, something was different. The air wasn't charged with Seraphine's usual energy. Instead, it felt heavy, burdened with something Vendetta couldn't quite place yet.

The door creaked open, and Seraphine stepped inside, her usual radiance dimmed. Vendetta didn't say anything, only watched as the werewolf moved with uncharacteristic hesitation, her shoulders hunched and eyes cast downward.

The silence stretched between them, and while it didn't bother Vendetta, it felt out of place coming from Seraphine. Usually, the girl's voice filled the room the moment she crossed the threshold. Today, she barely made a sound.

Vendetta tilted her head slightly, her eyes following Seraphine as she stood in the middle of the small room, motionless. No questions, no prying from her. If Seraphine wanted to speak, she would. If not, the quiet suited Vendetta just fine.

But then Seraphine sat down, hands trembling as they clutched at her dress. Her voice, when it came, was soft—too soft for the usually loud and carefree werewolf. "I... something happened," she said, her tone so unlike the sunshine she usually brought into Vendetta's life.

Vendetta's expression remained indifferent, but she didn't look away. She was listening, even if she wouldn't say it.

Seraphine's words spilled out slowly, fractured and full of pain. She spoke of the Alpha's son, of the months of harassment. One night when too much drink had stolen her control, she woke up in a bed that wasn't her own—with him. Her voice cracked as she described how she felt since then—dirty, ashamed like she could never be clean again.

Vendetta's grip on the windowsill tightened, though her face remained blank. She had no love for packs or their hierarchies, and this was why. The abuse of power, the disregard for others—it disgusted her, though she wouldn't say that aloud. Not now. Her eyes, however, sharpened in the low light of the cabin.

"And now," Seraphine continued, her voice barely more than a whisper, "I think I'm pregnant."

Vendetta said nothing, but her thoughts stirred beneath the surface. The quiet wolf who could always find the sun had now been cast into shadow, and while Vendetta lived comfortably within her own darkness, Seraphine didn't belong there.

"And I've just met my mate," Seraphine whispered, her eyes wet with tears that she finally let fall. "He's the Beta of the visiting Black Lotus pack. But how could he... how could he accept me after this? I'm... I don't even know how to face him."

The room fell silent once more, Seraphine's soft sobs the only sound breaking through. Vendetta stayed still, her expression as indifferent as always, but her mind turned over what Seraphine had said. The werewolf had always been so different from her—bright, energetic, and full of life. A burst of sunlight that somehow never irritated her the way most people did.

But now, that light was dimming, and for reasons Vendetta didn't understand, she couldn't allow that. Seraphine wasn't like the others. She was... something more.

Vendetta stood slowly, her movements calm, deliberate. She crossed the room, stopping beside Seraphine without saying a word. Instead of offering comfort through empty phrases, she reached out and gently placed a small cup of herbal tea in Seraphine's hands. A subtle gesture of care, wrapped in her usual quiet.

Seraphine looked up, her tear-filled eyes meeting Vendetta's cool, unreadable gaze. And though no words passed between them, there was an understanding. Vendetta wouldn't speak of the matter again unless Seraphine wanted her to. But she would act. She always did when it came to the few people she allowed into her life, and Seraphine, whether she realized it or not, was one of those few.

"Rest," Vendetta said quietly, her tone as indifferent as ever, but the implication behind it was clear. They would figure out what to do next. There would be no more questions today, only quiet.

Seraphine, exhausted, nodded, her shoulders relaxing just a bit as she sipped the tea.

Vendetta turned away, her mind already moving toward what needed to be done. She might have chosen a life of solitude, but for Seraphine—the only sunshine that had ever managed to break through her barriers—she would make an exception.