Iseult

They dumped me like garbage in the forest, the white coats and grinning orderlies. "She’s not our problem anymore," one had said, laughing. I wasn't crazy. But my inheritance was worth more than my sanity to my family. I wandered, broken, bloody feet, trembling hands, every breath a fight. No food. No water. Just the distant growl of beasts, and the taste of betrayal in my mouth. Then I saw him. Tall. Wild. Eyes like molten gold and fury etched into every scar across his chest. I thought I was hallucinating. I hoped I was. But he growled something guttural and the next thing I knew, I was caged in a den of wolves. His name was Iseult. Alpha of the Talladega pack. Merciless. Sharp-tongued. And he hated me. A human. A reminder. He’d lost his mate and child to human scientists long ago. I was nothing but prey in his eyes. He mocked me. Ignored my thirst. Threw raw meat into the cage like I was an animal. But I watched him. At night, when he thought I was asleep, I heard him sing mournful, ancient songs full of loss. I saw him soften only for his old mother. I watched the fierce way he shielded his pack. I hated myself for it. But I started to love him. The cruel Alpha who’d never love a human. The wolf who kept me caged. Yet… sometimes, when he passed too close, I thought I saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes. And I wondered; was it the forest, or fate, that brought me to the beast who might just break me completely?