Alphas Don't Need Mates

Chapter 1: Story Of My Life

My mother died on a rainy day In April, my father died a day after. I grew up not having a family, at least not my real one. My father was the Alpha when he died his younger brother, Ryder the beta took over as alpha then adopted me. I grew up along side their daughter Bridget and two sons, Max and Elijah. Bridget and Max were named after my parents, Maddox and Bridgette they don't live up to the legacy, no one would ever.

I've grown up well taken care of my whole life and happy but I've always missed my loving parents. Through mud fights, sledding down hills, family barbecues I've always felt like I was missing something. That I was missing a part of me, my parents took a part of me when they left me alone.

My life would never be the same and will never be without the love only my true parents can give me. I've learned to accept never seeing them, touching them, feeling their love for me. Now there is no one that I feel truly cares about me. Ryder and his mate Layla love me and so do their children but they took me away from my real family.

They didn't save my mother or my father, they couldn't prevent their death. They will never be forgiven in my book, and neither will their children with their snobby, rich attitudes.

I should be the one getting the Alpha title in a month though since Max is a year younger than me we are to compete to win the title. He doesn't deserve my rightful title as Alpha. I am to make sure it will be mine even if I have to kill him to win it.

He is not fit to be Alpha, I am a pure blooded Alpha child. My mother's and father's whole line are Alphas. Max's line was disgraced by his mother, an Omega. She doesn't deserve to be Luna either, and Ryder doesn't deserve to be Alpha he barely deserved to be my fathers beta.

As I paint the canvas with my brush I think of everything I've ever had to deal with. One stroke, my mother dying, her smile still imprinted in my mind. Two strokes, my father hanging himself and me finding him afterwards. Three strokes, my freedom taken away from me after a rogue attack when I was ten.

Stroke after stroke of endless torturous memories flash before my grey eyes. Until they all stop and show me my mother, painted beautifully on my canvas. She's all I ever draw, her beauty never ceases to amaze me.

I inspire to be more like my strong mother. To have a fraction of her beauty, grace, elegance and her kind heart.

Though I am more like my father, strong willed, stubborn, and strategic. I can still feel my mothers dainty warm hands brushing back my stray hair to my ear. My father throwing me up in the air, laughing while I'm screaming and smiling.

Today is my birthday and the day I get to meet my hopefully loving mate. Today is also the painful day my mother died. What a rainy day in April it will be.