Alpha's Second Chance Nymph

My mother always told me to keep a low profile. She insisted I hide beneath my oversized black cape, which shrouded half my face, and avoid looking up whenever possible.

She drilled into me the importance of obedience, caution, and silence. She warned me against making friends and, most importantly, she urged me to guard my secret fiercely.

All these precautions were to avoid drawing attention to myself. If people discovered my true nature, it would not only endanger me but also those around me. It could force me to do unspeakable things.

Those who sought me wanted to exploit me as a weapon of war, to replicate my abilities and create an army of powerful fighters. At least, that’s what my mother always warned me about.

The cape served another purpose too. My mother believed my beauty was a liability, something others might try to manipulate. She said that if people saw me, they’d be drawn to me, wanting to befriend me instantly.

Nymphs, like me, are known for their friendly, welcoming faces and striking beauty. At least, that’s what the books I’ve read say. My mother always told me I was blessed with extraordinary gifts, but what good are they if I’m forced to live in the shadows? My life felt more like a curse than a gift. It was a tragedy.

I am a nymph, a nature spirit tasked with preserving nature. My duty is to care for the forests and plants of my pack, the Silver Moon Pack. Every full moon, I perform a ritual to thank Mother Nature for her bountiful gifts. I strive to keep my forest thriving, not because my mother taught me to, but because it’s in my nature. It’s something I do without even thinking.

Only my mother and father knew my true identity. Nymphs generally have a good relationship with werewolves, but I had to keep my secret to avoid revealing my other abilities. I wasn’t so much afraid of them hurting me, but of them hurting others.

I’ve never met another nymph, except for my mother. She was half wolf, half water nymph. The operative word being ‘was’...

My mother died when our old pack, the Dark Moon Pack, was attacked. She died because of me, protecting me. A warrior, terrified of me, tried to kill me but killed her instead.

My father constantly reassures me that my mother doesn’t blame me, that it wasn’t my fault. But the guilt never leaves me. My mother was a nymph, and nymphs are forgiving by nature. It was in her nature not to blame me.

I am a mix of three parts. Primarily, I am a forest nymph. A small part of me is a wolf, so small that I can’t even shift. I have a wolf spirit, Madeline, but she doesn’t have a physical form.

It saddens me that Madeline doesn’t have a wolf form. She’s told me countless times that she’s content with her existence, but if I could give her a physical form, I would.

The third part of me comes from my father. I don’t see him often because his job requires him to travel. I only see him when someone around me dies.

My father is Death.

His job is to collect souls from the deceased. He stores each soul in a glass container, organizing them according to family tree and the color of the soul. A person’s soul is black if they were bad in life, white if they were good. But life isn’t just black and white. Mostly, it’s a hundred shades of gray.

Death has two forms.

His first form is the familiar skeleton draped in a black cape, the one we all know from books. His second form is human-like, indistinguishable from any other person.

No one can see Death on a regular basis, but as his daughter, I can see him when he’s around. He always approaches me, asking how I’ve been. I know he truly loves me.

My mother was unique—she could see Death, just like me. My parents couldn’t explain it, but it was this shared ability that sparked their love. Death, being immortal, had finally found someone who could see him after a million years. He had finally found love.

Most people only see Death when they're on the brink of dying. For the good souls, my father grants a death wish.

A death wish is a request granted by Death himself, a dying person's final desire. My father gave me a death wish the last time I saw him. Since I can see him, I can use the wish whenever he's near.

A death wish can do almost anything, except grant immortality or bring someone back to life. I was always told to use it wisely. Even as Death's daughter, I only get one.

I inherited dark magic powers from my father.

These powers make me invincible, but my mother forbade me from using them. She told me to only use them when trusted people were around, but that never happened. The only power she allowed me to use was healing. I can heal human flesh wounds, but I have to feel the same pain the injured person is feeling. I can heal sick plants and trees without any pain. I still don’t know the extent of my healing power.

My wolf is the reason I have a mate. And my mate is the one who completely shattered me, causing me unbearable pain that persists to this day.

Members of the Dark Moon pack always thought I was strange. I was quiet, always wore capes, and they thought I was weak because I couldn’t shift. I hoped that would change when I found my mate. On my eighteenth birthday, I found him—Alpha Hans.

He was standing in front of my house. The most intoxicating scent filled my nostrils, and the most handsome man stood before me. My wolf, Madeline, was restless in my head.

“Alpha Hans...” I said, disbelief creeping into my voice as I lifted my gaze from the ground. Could I really be his mate? Maybe this was just a dream.

He was one of the people who had called me names, but I was ready to forgive him. He was my mate, and I couldn’t fight the bond. He was meant for me, and only me.

“We need to talk, Adelie. Let’s go somewhere quieter,” he said, walking towards the forest without even checking if I was following. But I did.

I didn’t want our first conversation to be in front of my mother either. I gave my mother one last glance and smiled widely. She always spoke about how happy she was with my father, and I wanted that kind of love too.

We walked into a clearing in the forest. He didn’t say a word the entire time. But I was ecstatic—my mate was here, with me. They say that a mate is someone who will love you even after death. Not even death can break a mate bond.

Alpha Hans turned to face me, but his expression wasn’t what I had hoped for. I had expected him to run towards me, to embrace me, but his gaze was cold, as if I was just another pack member—or even less.

“I can’t have you as my mate, Adelie. I’m sorry. You’re weak, and you don’t even have a wolf form. What kind of Luna would you be?” His words were laced with disgust, sending a thousand sharp needles into my chest.

He continued, “You’re hated in this pack. The pack needs someone they can look up to, and you’re not that person.” My heart shattered into a million pieces. Didn’t it hurt him to say those words?

“What?...” I stammered, unable to believe what I was hearing. “I can change, Alpha.” I fell to my knees. “I can be whatever you want me to be, I promise,” I pleaded through my tears.

I couldn’t shift, but I needed him. I couldn’t let go of my savior. He was the one made for me, to understand me, to love me no matter what.

“Adelie Murrell, I, Alpha Hans Lightwood, reject you as my mate and Luna of the Dark Moon Pack,” he declared. My vision blurred momentarily, as if the world itself was recoiling from his words.

My heart felt like it had been ripped out, leaving behind a void filled with the most excruciating pain I’d ever experienced. “No!” I cried out, a mix of anger, sorrow, and heartbreak fueling my outburst.

Suddenly, I lost control of my powers. Black smoke billowed from my fingertips, causing Alpha Hans to recoil in fear. Other wolves began to approach, drawn by the spectacle.

One of them lunged at me, but I instinctively blasted him away with a puff of black smoke. I hadn’t known I was capable of such a thing. The wolf howled in pain, causing the others to retreat in fear. I was scared too, terrified of what I might do next.

My mother rushed towards me. “Mom!” I screamed as Alpha Hans restrained her, his eyes filled with the belief that I could harm my own mother. “Run!” was all she managed to say.

I was always obedient to my mother, but this time, I hesitated. They were going to hurt her. “Run, Adelie!” she urged again.

I remained frozen in place as Alpha Hans approached me, leaving my mother behind. He raised his hands in surrender, his face etched with what almost looked like guilt. “Freak!” a warrior sneered from beside me.

He was still in his human form and hurled a knife at me. But before it could reach me, my mother jumped in front of me, taking the hit. The knife lodged in her chest, and she crumpled to the ground.

I was staring at death. My mother was dying. “Don’t take her,” I pleaded, as if Alpha Hans could do anything about it.

My father looked at me. “Run!” he bellowed, his voice shaking the ground. I’d never heard him yell like that before.

I released a smoke bomb that shielded me from view. I didn’t even think about it, it just happened. I ran until my legs gave out, until I was sure I’d left the Dark Moon territory behind.

I ran like a coward. My mother had sacrificed herself for me, and I’d left her to die without even saying goodbye. She was my everything, and now she was gone.

A year later, I was still a member of the Silver Moon pack. Alpha Archibald had taken me in when he found me wandering around his territory.

He was the kindest alpha I’d ever met. None of his pack members treated me differently because I didn’t have a wolf. They just stared at my unusual coat.

Even Alpha Archibald didn’t know my true identity. When he asked about my mate, I told him he was dead. It was easier than admitting I’d been rejected.

I was ashamed that my own mate, the one I was destined to be with, had rejected me. If I wasn’t good enough for him, then I wasn’t good enough for anyone.

Tonight was a full moon, and I needed to give thanks to Mother Nature. It was already dark, and I made sure my roommates were asleep. I lived in one of the pack houses with other mateless werewolves.

I brewed a potion from forest plants and slipped it into their drinks to ensure they slept soundly. They couldn’t know I was sneaking out, and besides, the potion didn’t harm them. They always wondered why they slept so deeply on full moon nights.

I left the pack house, cloaked in a long black cape and wearing a floor-length white dress. I always wore long dresses, just like my mother used to. She said they were a nymph’s style, more medieval than modern. I’d tried wearing “normal” clothes, but they always felt wrong.

The pack house was quiet, everyone asleep. The guards were patrolling the borders of our territory, and I had no intention of going that far. I’d been successfully sneaking around for a year now, never getting caught.

I made my way deep into the forest to my usual ritual spot. Once there, I removed my cape and let my brown hair cascade down my back. I always made sure to look my best on full moon nights, to show Mother Nature that I was worthy of being a nymph.

I nestled myself next to a towering tree, its branches adorned with vibrant purple blossoms. This tree was the grandest of them all, its spirit was potent, and it had witnessed countless seasons.

From this tree and its brethren, I had gleaned much wisdom. As a forest nymph, they guided me, teaching me my responsibilities. They spoke to me, instructing me on how to care for them.

I shut my eyes, expressing my gratitude for the world around me. I always checked in with the trees, asking if anything unusual had occurred. They kept me informed not only about the forest's health but also about any intruders. Today, someone was lurking near our forest boundary.

As I expressed my thanks, I could feel energy coursing through me, drawn up from the roots.

My duty was to ensure the forest thrived, that no tree was desolate, no plant feeble. I was a steward of the forest, serving its needs.

Each full moon rejuvenated me, making life worth living. I had no one else in my life, only nature.

My thoughts drifted to my mate, Hans. He was always in my mind. I wished I could alleviate the pain, but I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t wish him away.

Even if all that remained of my mate was pain, I still wanted it. Even if I had to endure the excruciating pain of him marking and mating another she-wolf. The pain was a reminder of what I almost had.

I roamed the forest, finally free from my cloak. I inhaled the fresh air, my head held high. I twirled, letting the wind dance around me. The forest was my sanctuary, my utopia of joy.

When it was time to depart, I reached for my heavy cloak. But as I did, I heard footsteps approaching. I quickly looked up to identify the newcomer.

A man, large and muscular, was walking towards me. His muscles were evident even beneath his clothing.

He was a werewolf, and his muscular build was expected given the rigorous training they undergo.

His hair was a deep brown, curly and just long enough to almost cover his eyes. It was longer on top, shorter on the sides, swept to the right. His eyes were a captivating hazel, making me forget for a moment about my cloak.

I turned around, donning my cloak and hood, but I was too late to conceal my face. I knew he had seen me; our eyes had met.

There was something unusual about him, something intriguing yet calming. His presence was soothing, yet strange.

I heard him take a step closer, and then I caught his scent. It was a blend of pine needles and bergamot, with a hint of peppermint. I had never encountered this scent before, but it stirred a familiar feeling within me. And that's when I let my wolf speak to me.