Bound To The Broken Alpha (Amy and Daniel) novel Chapter 2

Amy’s POV

“She’ll do,” Daniel’s uncle, the pack Beta said. “Her bloodline is the key. It’s old, rare. If we bind her to Daniel, his wolf will rise.”

“And if it kills her?” his mother asked, her voice cold.

“Then so be it. The Carters lineage will continue. That’s what matters.”

I pressed a hand to my mouth, forcing myself to stay silent. My heart pounded so loud I was sure they would hear it. Eve pressed close inside me, tensed.

“They don’t see a Luna, they see a vessel,” she whispered.

They didn’t just want me as a stand-in bride. They wanted me as a sacrifice.

All my life, I had wondered why I was different. Why my blood never matched anyone else’s when tested by the healers, why elders sometimes stared too long during moon gatherings. I never understood. And now, I knew they did. They believed binding me to Daniel would wake him, even if it cost me my life.

I should have run. I should have gone to the Council, told them what I heard.

But I didn’t. Instead, I stayed.

Because when I looked at Daniel again, I felt something deep, something calming. He wasn’t just a man in a coma. He was an Alpha still fighting beneath the curse. His wolf was clawing to return, and somehow, I was the only one who could hear his call.

And maybe, just maybe, if I could bring him back, I could finally prove I wasn’t disposable. Not to Mark. Not to Mrs. Smith. Not to anyone.

I returned home and the memories came rushing back. I had known for weeks that Mark was slipping away from me, but the way he ran every time Clara called made it unbearable. She had returned to the pack a month ago, sick and frail, and from the moment she stepped foot inside our territory, he chose her over me.

That night, her name flashed across his phone again. I sat in the living room, waiting, hoping maybe this time he would ignore it. He didn’t.

“Mark,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm, “can’t it wait until morning?”

He barely glanced at me. “She says she’s coughing blood, Amy. I have to go.”

Eve growled low, the sound rolling through my ribs.

“He is always picking her. Never us.”

“Do you hear yourself?” My hands shook in my lap. “Every time she calls, you leave. What about me?”

He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “Don’t start this tonight.”

And just like that, he was gone. No goodbye. No reassurance. Just the sound of the door closing behind him.

I remembered the nights at his hospital bed after rogues nearly tore him apart, my palms blistered from grinding herbs the healers had already given up on. I whispered prayers until my voice was raw, but when his eyes finally opened, he didn’t thank me—his first word was Clara’s name.

Now he was gone again, and I was left staring at the space he’d abandoned. My chest felt carved out, my ribs too weak to hold what was left of my heart. I pressed my face into my hands, but the sobs broke free anyway, shaking me until my whole body ached. Inside me, my wolf gave a broken howl, the sound so hollow it rattled through my bones.

I had sacrificed everything for him—my time, my pride, even risked my standing in the pack when he was accused of negligence after his accident. I fought for him when no one else would. Yet, all it took was Clara’s weak voice through the phone, and he left me behind.

That was the moment I decided I was done.

The next morning, with swollen eyes and trembling hands, I forced myself to gather everything that tied me to him. At first, I couldn’t do it. My fingers shook as I held the bracelet he once tied around my wrist during the Spring Moon Festival, his wolf howling beside mine while the pack blessed us. I wanted to throw it back in his face, but my wolf whimpered as if tearing it away would kill her too.

Then another notification appeared. A voicemail. My chest seized as I pressed play.

“Amy. Where are you?” His voice was sharp, stern. Then he pause, breath jagged like he was holding back a roar. “Answer me.” Then colder, final, each syllable a blade: “You don’t get to leave like this.”

The message ended, but my body didn’t stop shaking. My knees buckled, and I pressed myself against the wall of the hotel hallway, gasping for air like I’d run miles. I could still hear his voice circling in my skull, heavy and inescapable.

He wasn’t begging. He wasn’t broken. He was hunting me.

The next morning, I handed in my resignation. I didn’t want his name over me anymore. I didn’t want to be tied to his company, his power, or his shadow. I had dreams of my own, ones I buried for him.

Since I was a child, I wanted to be a healer—not just the kind who stitched wounds in a clinic, but one who understood both medicine and the ways of the pack. To study anatomy under bright hospital lights and still know which roots calmed a wolf’s fever, which runes steadied a shifting heart. It wasn’t glamorous compared to the life he wanted for me, but it was mine. And now, I finally had the chance to chase it.

When I arrived at the Mark-Wilson Group offices, the air shifted. People stared over the rims of their screens, whispering low, their wolves scenting the tension clinging to me. News traveled fast in a pack. They knew something had happened, though none of them dared ask.

The company’s glass floors gleamed under the lights, every inch humming with power. This was Mark’s world—high-rise meetings, council contracts, the empire he built from the ground up with Wilson money at his back. And for years, I had been part of it, his shadow in the boardroom, the one who smoothed every snarl before it could reach him.

Now I was packing the last of my files into a single box. My badge, my pens, the notes I kept in neat stacks—all of it felt meaningless.

Bella, one of the junior secretaries, stopped me near the elevators. Her voice was careful, almost timid.

“Amy… please wait.”

Her eyes darted to the glass doors behind me, her face pale.