Alpha King Silas
The forest was alive with whispers, the kind only an Alpha could hear. The faint rustle of leaves carried the movements of prey, the scent of damp earth mingled with the distant promise of rain, and the cool wind stung my face as I stalked through the trees. My warriors had spread out, leaving me to track alone. This hunt wasn’t about the thrill of the chase or the feast waiting at the end-it was about the restlessness that had taken root deep inside me.
And yet, there was something else in the air. A presence.
I stopped abruptly, my boots sinking slightly into the mossy ground. The hair on the back of my neck rose as I scanned the shadows. It wasn’t an enemy, nor was it prey. No, this was something more… potent. The pull was subtle but undeniable, a low hum vibrating through my veins.
Then, I heard it-a faint whimper, carried on the wind.
I didn’t think; I moved. My legs propelled me through the underbrush, branches clawing at my arms as I followed the sound. It led me deeper into the forest, where the trees grew closer, their gnarled roots curling like fingers. My wolf stirred within me, uneasy yet eager, as if it too sensed something extraordinary.
And then I saw her.
She was crumpled on the forest floor, a fragile figure draped in tattered fabric. Tawny hair clung to her pale face, and shallow breaths pushed against her ribs, their effort visible beneath the thin fabric of her dress. Blood streaked her arms, and faint bruises marred her otherwise smooth skin.
There was something about her-something that stopped the air in my lungs. Even battered and frail, she radiated an undeniable energy. It wasn’t her appearance or her injuries; it was her aura. It drew me in, igniting a fire I didn’t know had been smoldering within me.
My gaze dropped on her face. Her eyelids fluttered weakly, and then, impossibly, they opened.
I froze as I met her eyes-rich, warm brown, like soil after a fresh rain. They were unfocused at first, but then they locked onto mine. The connection was instantaneous, a jolt that traveled straight to my chest. Her gaze held a quiet strength, a serenity that I hadn’t expected, and for the first time in years, I felt… vulnerable.
“Who…” Her voice was barely a whisper, and then her head lolled to the side, her strength failing her.
“Hey,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. “Stay awake.”
She didn’t respond. Her breathing was shallow, her body limp, but she was alive.
Without hesitation, I crouched down and slid one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders, lifting her with ease. Her body felt so light, so fragile in my arms, yet the hum of her presence wrapped around me like an unbreakable thread. My wolf growled low, protective, as though this injured stranger was ours to safeguard.
[Mate]
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.
I pushed the thought aside and focused on the present. The forest seemed darker as I made my way back to the pack house, the weight of her unconscious formed a constant reminder of the mystery now in my arms.
I didn’t leave her side.
After bringing her to the healer’s quarters, I stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed, watching as Liora, our pack doctor, worked to clean her wounds. My instincts screamed to take over, to ensure every movement, every treatment was done perfectly, but I held back. Barely.
“She’ll be fine, Alpha,” Liora said, glancing over her shoulder. “Her wounds are superficial, and she just needs rest.”
I nodded, my gaze fixed on her face. The faint lines of strain on her brow, the slow rise and fall of her chest-all of it burned into my mind.
“She’s your mate, isn’t she?” Liora asked softly.
The question made my chest tighten. I didn’t answer, but the look she gave me told me she already knew.
Hours passed, and the moon hung high when she finally stirred.
Her movements were faint at first-just a twitch of her fingers-but it was enough to make me stand straighter. Then her eyes opened, and for the second time, I was caught in their pull.
“Where am I?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“You’re safe,” I said, stepping closer. “You were hurt. My doctor’s been treating you.”
Her gaze darted around the room, confusion and fear flickering across her face. “Why… why did you help me?”
The question threw me away. Why did I? Any other rogue found near our territory would’ve been questioned, even punished. But her? From the moment I found her, the thought of leaving her behind hadn’t even crossed my mind.
“I couldn’t leave you there,” I said simply, though the words felt insufficient.
She looked like she wanted to press further, but she just nodded weakly, her gaze falling to her lap.
In the days that followed, I watched her closely. She was quiet, her steps tentative, as though afraid to take up space. Yet there was something about her presence that filled the entire room. My warriors gave her space, sensing my unspoken command to leave her be, but I couldn’t. I found myself drawn to her again and again.
It wasn’t just the bond. It was the way she carried herself-wary, but never weak. Even when she avoided my questions or hesitated to meet my eyes, there was a fire in her that hadn’t been extinguished, and I was determined to see it burn brighter.
One night, I found her in the garden, her frame illuminated by the silver glow of the moon. She looked up when she heard my footsteps, her expression unreadable.
“You don’t have to keep saving me,” she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of frustration.
“I’ll stop when you stop needing saving,” I replied, stepping closer.
Her jaw tightened. “I don’t belong here. I don’t belong… with you.”
Her words stung more than I cared to admit. “You don’t believe that.”
“I do.” She turned to face me fully, her eyes blazing with a mixture of defiance and pain. “You’re an Alpha. I’m… no one. I can’t-”
“You’re my mate,” I said firmly, cutting her off.
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, I saw the wall she had built around herself crack. “That can’t be true,” she whispered.
“It is,” I said, stepping closer still. “I felt it the moment I saw you. And I know you feel it too.”
The silence that followed was deafening, but I held her gaze, refusing to let her run from this truth. Finally, she looked away, her shoulders slumping.
“Why me?” she asked, her voice trembling.
The answer was on the tip of my tongue, but how could I put it into words? How could I explain that she was everything I never knew I needed? That her strength, hidden beneath her fragility, had already begun to heal something in me?
“Because fate doesn’t make mistakes,” I said, my voice low.
And for the first time, I saw a flicker of hope in her eyes.