Share
MidReal Story
My Alpha Father's New Mate
Scenario:the daughter of Stephen Salvatore and Lexie they are not together. I’ve gone six years without knowing my mate. And things are crazy cause I’m with my dad’s new mate brother Jeremy, and my dad’s new maid’s name is Lena.
Create my version of this story
Damon Salvatore
My uncle is annoying
Elena Salvatore
My mom
Jeremy Gilbert,
My mate and he doesn’t know it
I’ve gone six years without knowing my mate.
It’s not like I haven’t been trying to find her, but every lead I’ve had so far has turned out to be false.
I know it’s not uncommon for wolves to go ten years or more without finding their mates, but I had always hoped that I would be one of the lucky ones.
That I would find my mate early, like my parents did.
Well, at least my dad and his mate.
My mom Lexie left when I was two, and I haven’t seen or heard from her since.
I don’t even know if she’s still alive.
My dad hasn’t talked about her much, and when I asked him about it, he told me that it was none of my business.
That I would never have to deal with her again.
I didn’t press the issue further because I was scared of losing the only parent I had left.
But sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a normal family, with two parents who love each other and are still together.
To have a mother who is there for all the important moments in my life, like when I got my first period or graduated from high school.
My best friend Jeremy is the brother of my dad’s new mate, and we met on the day he moved into our home.
I was shocked to learn that he was the son of Damon Salvatore, my father’s brother.
I pace back and forth outside my dad’s study, my heart pounding against my ribs.
Through the oak door, I can hear him shuffling papers around.
It’s probably pack business.
My hand hovers over the brass doorknob, hesitating.
I’m not sure if I should go in there and confront him about this.
But seeing Jeremy earlier, happy with his family, pushed me over the edge.
I need to know the truth.
I need to know why Mom left us all those years ago.
I knock twice on the door and then enter without waiting for a response.
My dad is sitting at his massive desk, surrounded by stacks of paperwork and files.
He looks up as I enter, his expression darkening as if he already knows what I’m about to ask him.
"Hey Dad," I say, closing the door behind me and walking over to his desk.
"What is it, Alex?" he asks, his voice gruff but tinged with a weariness that makes my resolve falter for a moment.
"I need to know about Mom," I say, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.
He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples before finally meeting my gaze. "She didn't leave because of us; she left because she had no choice."
I stare at him, waiting for more, but he just looks at me with a mixture of sadness and frustration.
"What do you mean she had no choice?"
I ask, my voice shaking slightly.
He sighs again and looks away from me.
"Alex, I can’t talk about this right now. I have a lot of work to do."
I feel a lump form in my throat as I realize that he’s not going to tell me anything else.
"Fine," I say, turning away from him and walking towards the door.
But before I leave, I turn back to look at him one last time.
"I just want to know the truth," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
He doesn’t respond, and I know that this conversation is over.
I walk out of his office and head upstairs to my room.
As soon as I close the door behind me, I collapse onto my bed and let out a frustrated scream into my pillow.
Why won’t he just tell me what happened?
Doesn’t he know how much it hurts to not know?
I roll over onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, trying to calm down.
But my mind keeps racing, thinking about all the possibilities of what could have happened between my parents. After a few minutes, I get up from bed and start pacing around my room.
I need to do something to distract myself from these thoughts.
As I’m pacing, I accidentally bump into Dad’s antique mahogany desk with my hip.
It’s an old piece of furniture that he brought with him from his pack when we moved here six years ago.
It’s always been in the corner of my room, but it’s never really caught my attention before.
Until now.
The impact causes a sharp crack to echo through the room, and I freeze in place, waiting for someone to come running in and see if everything is okay.
But no one comes.
I breathe a sigh of relief and continue pacing around the room, only to stop again when I notice something strange about the desk.
There’s a small gap along one edge that wasn’t there before. My heart starts racing as I approach the desk cautiously.
What could be causing this?
Is it some kind of structural damage?
Or maybe there’s something hidden inside?
My hands shake slightly as I run my fingers along the edge of the desk, feeling for any inconsistencies in the wood.
And then, suddenly, there’s a mechanical click sound coming from within the desk itself.
