Born to Be Broken: When the Real Villain is the One Who Made You Feel Unwanted

Found Family vs. Bloodline

What hurts more—being hunted by monsters, or being raised like you didn’t matter?

In The Alpha’s Legacy Series, monsters don’t always have claws or glowing eyes. Sometimes, the worst ones wear a smile. Sometimes, they call themselves “family.” Freya Rougarou wasn’t raised in a coven or pack. She was hidden, abandoned, and dumped into the foster system—forgotten by the very bloodline that should have protected her.

The world calls her cursed. The prophecy calls her powerful. But for twenty-two years, Freya was just a girl trying to survive in a world that treated her like a burden.

The Scars You Can’t Shift Away

Freya didn’t grow up with powers. She didn’t know what she was. She had no pack, no magic, no name that meant anything. She had pain. She had silence. And she had to figure it all out alone.

Being passed from one foster home to another taught her how to observe. How to make herself small. How to anticipate anger—not because of supernatural intuition, but because survival demanded it. She read tone, watched eyes, tracked footsteps—because sometimes, that was the only thing standing between her and another night locked in a dark room.

One of the core themes in The Alpha’s Destiny is that blood means nothing without loyalty. Freya’s strength doesn’t come from her heritage—it comes from her refusal to let that heritage define her.

Her connection to others—especially characters like Jackson, Felix, and eventually Vykara—is built on mutual pain and earned trust. They don’t come together because fate tells them to. They come together because they’ve all been used, hurt, or cast aside—and together, they choose something better.

This is where Freya’s real power begins: not in prophecy, but in choosing who she becomes.

Father of the Year — Or the End of the World?

Samuel, the man who created her, didn’t raise her. He never planned to. His interest in Freya begins and ends with what she can do for him. He’s cold. Calculated. And when Freya finds him, he doesn’t greet her with guilt or love—he sees her as a means to an end. A necessary sacrifice. A mistake with value.

He’s never felt love for her. Never even pretended to.

And that’s what makes him terrifying.

Because Samuel doesn’t need dark magic to destroy people. All he has to do is withhold the one thing every child craves: belonging.