I woke up to warmth. Not the usual kind that seeps from sunlight or firelight, but the strange, unnerving warmth of breath ghosting near my ear. For a mont, I didn’t move. I just lay there, half tangled in the thin blanket I had spread across the cold marble floor last night, my body stiff as realization crawled slowly through like ice.
Sothing or soone was beside .
My eyes fluttered open, heavy with sleep and dread, and my heart stopped. Alpha Zach lay on the floor next to . His broad shoulders rose and fell with slow, asured breaths. His silver eyes were closed, but even in sleep, his presence dominated the room.
The psycho Alpha the sa man whose voice haunted my every waking thought was lying right there, inches away from .
For a mont, I couldn’t even breathe. I didn’t dare. My pulse pounded in my ears so loudly it felt as if the whole room could hear it. I wanted to believe I was still dreaming, that this was another cruel trick of my exhausted mind. But then he shifted slightly, his arm brushing the fabric near my shoulder, and I felt it the faintest contact, real and terrifying. He was real. And I was trapped beside him.
I tried to rember the last thing that had happened. The night before... he hadn’t returned when I brought breakfast. I’d waited until the sun dipped below the horizon, the silence of the Alpha’s quarters heavy and suffocating. The guards didn’t say where he had gone. They never did. They only glanced at with that pitying look that made want to disappear.
I told myself I’d wait. I told myself I’d stay that maybe if I showed obedience, he would stop hating .
And so I had laid my blanket on the farthest corner of his room, curled up on the cold floor, and whispered small prayers to a God who might have forgotten . Now, sohow, he was beside .
The air was thick with the faint scent of pine and smoke that clung to him. My stomach twisted painfully. I couldn’t understand why was he lying here, on the floor, instead of his massive bed?
Was this a test? A punishnt? Or sothing worse? I swallowed hard and began to inch away, as quietly as possible. But his voice low, cold, and calm froze in place.
"Move again, oga, and I’ll break your legs."
My blood turned to ice.
I hadn’t even heard him wake up. Slowly, I turned my head. His eyes were open now, glinting like steel in the dim morning light. He wasn’t angryno, anger I could handle. This was worse. His expression was calm, too calm, as if he were simply stating a fact.
"Y-Your Majesty," I stamred, my voice barely audible. "I—I didn’t know you were—"
"Quiet," he interrupted softly, his tone so smooth it sent chills through . He sat up slowly, towering even as he moved with the quiet grace of a predator. "You sleep like soone waiting to be hunted."
I didn’t know if that was an observation or an insult. My hands trembled where I clutched the blanket. "I’m sorry," I whispered.
He tilted his head slightly, studying the way one might study a fragile insect. His eyes lingered on my trembling fingers, then on my face. "You should be."
Silence stretched between us, heavy and sharp.
Finally, he rose to his feet, his long coat brushing against the floor. He didn’t look back at as he walked toward his desk, but I could feel his presence like a storm cloud hovering above. Every instinct in my body scread at to run, but my legs refused to move.
I thought I’d grown used to fear but this was different. It wasn’t just fear of him. It was fear of myself, of what I was becoming in this world. A trembling shadow of who I used to be.
When he spoke again, his voice carried that unnerving calmness that always made my skin crawl.
"You stayed here last night."
It wasn’t a question.
"Yes," I whispered.
"Why?"
I hesitated. The truth that I had been too afraid to return to the oga quarters in the dark seed pathetic. "I thought... I should be here when you returned."
He turned slowly, his gaze cutting into . "Waiting. Obedient. Quiet." His lips curved slightly not a smile, but sothing colder. "Are you trying to please now, Ellie?"
My na in his voice sent a shiver down my spine.
"I just wanted to do my duty," I managed.
He stepped closer, until I could feel the heat of him through the air. "You look at like I’m about to hurt you," he murmured. "Why is that?"
Because you always do, I wanted to say. Because every word you speak is a blade pressed against my throat. But I couldn’t say anything. My throat felt tight, my words useless.
He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping lower. "If you’re going to fear , oga, at least make it convincing."
My breath caught.
Then, without another word, he straightened and walked past toward the door. He paused briefly, his hand resting on the handle, and for a heartbeat I thought he might say sothing else sothing cruel or mocking.
But he didn’t. He just looked over his shoulder, his expression unreadable.
"Clean this place before I return," he said softly. "And stay off the floor. You’re not a dog."
Then he was gone.
The door clicked shut behind him, and I collapsed to my knees, my heart still racing so hard it hurt. I pressed my hands to my face, trying to catch my breath. Only when I realized my hands were shaking uncontrollably did I let out a weak laugh. It was a broken sound, more a sob than laughter.
"Not a dog," I whispered to myself. "Right."
I didn’t know whether to cry or thank the heavens he hadn’t killed .
I stayed there for a long ti, staring at the space where he had lain just monts ago. The faint indentation on the floor felt surreal proof that the most dangerous man in the pack had willingly slept beside , for reasons I couldn’t comprehend.
Had it been a mistake? A whim? A test? Or was I already caught in whatever ga he was playing?
Hours passed before I moved. The light outside shifted from gold to gray, and I forced myself to stand. My knees were weak, my mind heavier than before. I cleaned the floor, straightened the room, and tried to ignore the lingering scent of him that clung to the air. But I couldn’t ignore the whisper in my mind. His voice. Move again, and I’ll break your legs.
It echoed in my skull like a curse. By the ti the sun dipped again, I was exhausted but sleepless. Every sound made flinch. The creak of wood, the rustle of curtains all of it felt like him returning. Watching. When I finally lay back down on the floor, my eyes remained open, staring at the ceiling. I didn’t want to close them. I didn’t want to dream. Because if I did, I knew what I’d see silver eyes watching in the dark, patient and knowing. The Alpha who haunted my nights and now, my mornings too.
And sowhere deep down, beneath the fear and confusion, a new dread took root. Maybe the old witch had been right. Maybe the only way out of this nightmare wasn’t to run but to make the monster love first. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was light pale gold spilling through the window, catching dust motes that floated lazily in the air. For a mont, I forgot where I was. Then the faint scent of pine and smoke filled my nose, and it all ca rushing back.
The Alpha’s quarters. The cold floor. The faint ache in my back. And him. I turned slowly, my heart pounding.
But he wasn’t there.
The spot beside where his warmth had lingered through the night was empty. The blanket he must’ve pulled over himself was neatly folded and placed on the bed, as if nothing had happened.
For a long mont, I just sat there, staring. Did I dream it?
No. I could still feel it—the mory of his breath brushing my neck, the sound of his steady heartbeat against the silence. He had been there. All night.
But now, the Alpha acted as though it had never happened. I heard the faint clink of tal and turned my head sharply. There he was. Standing by the table, already dressed in his usual black shirt and trousers, sleeves rolled up as he poured himself a cup of tea. His movents were calm, precise, emotionless. Like any other morning.
"Good morning, Alpha," I whispered, forcing my voice to sound steady.
He didn’t look at . "You’re late."
The words hit harder than they should have.
Late. Not you were on the floor, not why did you sleep here, not even a simple good morning. Just that cold, sharp, and indifferent.
"I—I’m sorry, Alpha," I stamred, quickly standing up. "I’ll get breakfast ready right away."
He didn’t respond. He lifted the cup to his lips and took a slow sip, gaze fixed on the window.
Pretending nothing happened. Pretending like he hadn’t lain beside in the dead of night, so close that I could feel the warmth of his skin. My fingers trembled slightly as I picked up the empty tray from last night. His scent still clung faintly to the blanket. I turned away quickly and hurried out of the room before my thoughts betrayed .
The kitchen was already buzzing with soft voices when I arrived. The ogas there gave the sa mixture of pity and fear they always did, though no one dared to say anything. Not after what happened last ti, when one of them whispered that I was cursed to serve the "mad Alpha."
That girl had been reassigned the next day. No one saw her again. I washed my hands quietly and began chopping vegetables, trying to lose myself in the rhythm of the knife against the board. The scent of herbs and simring broth soon filled the air.
But no matter how hard I tried, my mind wouldn’t stop circling back to him. Why had he slept there? Was it guilt? Pity? No, he didn’t strike as a man who felt either. Maybe he just couldn’t sleep in his bed. Maybe it reminded him of sothing or soone he lost. Or maybe he didn’t even think about it at all. Maybe he just did whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, without caring how strange or cruel it looked to others. By the ti breakfast was ready, my thoughts were tangled beyond repair. I arranged everything neatly on the tray eggs, honeyed bread, and a steaming pot of tea and made my way back. When I entered his quarters, he was sitting at his desk, reading through a stack of papers.
He didn’t glance up.
"Leave it on the table," he said flatly.
"Yes, Alpha."
I placed the tray down and stepped back, lowering my gaze.
Reviews
All reviews (0)