The Alpha’s Rebellious Fiancee
Description
She was a servant. Powerless. Invisible. Just another nameless rogue in Lucien Asher's cold, ruthless pack. But Lyra was never just a servant. She's the hidden daughter of the Alpha King-heir to a powerful bloodline, stolen by fate and buried in silence. Now, her identity has been revealed. Her crown reclaimed. And the mate she once served? He's the one she's being forced to marry.
Chapter 1
Oct 13, 2025
Lyra’s POV
“Rogue rat.”
Their voices hit me before the sunlight even does.
I flinch, holding the cleaning bucket tighter against my chest as I pass through the training yard. Warriors are lining up for drills, sneering like I smell worse than the mop water I carry.
“She still limping around here?” one mutters, not even bothering to lower his voice.
“Alpha must like his chambers real dirty,” another chuckles.
“Maybe he likes looking down on her crawling on his floor,” a third snickers.
They all laugh. I keep walking. Don’t speak. Don’t look back. Don’t cry. That’s the rule here in the Hawthorne Pack.
The omegas pass by me like I don’t exist. Even the pups ignore me. I’m the ghost girl, the border-scum. A rogue. That’s what they say I am. And once they brand you that, you’re never anything else again.
I push through the heavy wooden door of the packhouse, keeping my head low. The marble floors gleam even before I touch them—because I scrubbed them just last night. And the night before that. And every single night for the past two years.
Today is no different.
Lucien Asher’s quarters are on the top floor. Of course they are. He’s the soon-to-be Alpha. And I’m his servant.
The hallway leading to his room is empty, quiet. My fingers tremble as I set the bucket down beside his door. I pause. Breathe. I knock softly. No answer.
Of course.
He never answers. Never speaks to me unless it’s through a command.
I push the door open. My eyes instantly go to the bed—massive, unmade, dark gray sheets tangled like he fought sleep and lost. His jacket is slung over a leather chair. Boots kicked off halfway toward the closet. The curtains are drawn, leaving just enough light to see the chaos.
Lucien’s chaos.
And somehow, I know every inch of it.
Every corner of this room—every smudge on the windows, every dent in the wooden desk, every crooked book on his shelf—I’ve cleaned it all.
I’ve lived in it more than I’ve lived in my own skin.
I kneel by the fireplace and start collecting the scattered whiskey glasses, muttering under my breath as I do.
“Drink. Brood. Break things. Repeat.”
He’s never once thanked me. Never once said my name. Sometimes I wonder if he even knows it.
But I know him. Not just the way his jacket always smells like pine and smoke. Or how he leaves the bathroom light on when he showers. I know the way his jaw tightens when he’s angry, the way his fists clench when someone mentions his father.
His father.
I close my eyes, letting the memory wash over me.
Two years ago.
I was bleeding when they found me. Half-dead, lying at the edge of the Hawthorne border. Torn dress. No name. No scent. Just scars and silence.
It was Alpha Magnus—Lucien’s father—who found me. He stood above me like a god. Cold eyes. Heavy boots. He didn’t ask who I was. He already knew. The pack branded me with the word ‘rogue’ before I even opened my eyes.
And Lucien… he just stared. As if he was trying to figure out what I was. Or maybe whether I was worth the trouble. I guess he decided I wasn’t. Because from that day forward, I was nothing. Not even a girl.
Just the servant.
His servant.
I blink back to the present. My knees ache from crouching. I drag the bucket to the bathroom and start scrubbing the floor tiles. It’s the one place in this house I can lose myself. The one place no one watches me.
My fingers are raw. The smell of lemon cleaner stings my nose. My reflection stares back from the wet tile. Pale. Scarred. Eyes too tired for twenty.
A shadow moves behind me.
I jolt upright, heart racing, just as the bathroom door slams open.
A beta barges in, breathless, eyes hard. It’s Darren—Lucien’s second-in-command. His eyes flash when they land on me.
“Alpha Magnus wants you. Now.”
I wipe my hands on my skirt, confused. “Me?”
He scowls. “Did I stutter?”
“No, but… why would he—”
He grabs my arm, pulling me to my feet.
“I—I’m not done cleaning—”
Darren’s grip tightens. “He said now, girl.”
Girl.
Not Lyra. No one here calls me that anymore. But I remember it. I remember that it was my name. Even if they try to take everything from me, they can’t have that.
I swallow hard and let Darren drag me out of the bathroom.
My bucket stays behind. So does the mop. And the only peace I ever get. My heart pounds louder with every step we take down the hall.
Lucien’s scent lingers on my clothes—woodsmoke, rain, power. I shouldn’t notice it. But I do. I always do.
And as we round the corner toward the Alpha’s chamber, I wonder:
What does Magnus want?
The Alpha’s Rebellious Fiancee
30 Chapters
30
Contents
Save
Passion Exclusive
My Passion
Copyright © 2026 Passion
XOLY LIMITED, 400 S. 4th Street, Suite 500, Las Vegas, NV 89101