The Alpha’s Attention
1028 Words
The next few days passed in uneasy silence.
Lyra’s victory during training had made her the academy’s newest rumor. Everywhere she went, whispers followed — sharp, curious, jealous.
> “She took down Ronan in two moves.”
“Professor Draven chose her for private training.”
“He never trains anyone. Why her?”
She kept her gaze down, pretending not to hear. But every stare, every snide comment pressed against her chest like a weight. The last thing she wanted was attention — especially his.
Still, every night her thoughts returned to the moment his golden eyes met hers. The way his voice sounded when he said her name. The strange pulse that stirred under her skin when he was near.
She told herself it was nothing. Just nerves.
But her wolf whispered otherwise.
---
Lyra arrived at the training hall before dawn. The air was cold, mist curling around the floor. The vast room was empty except for the man standing near the center — Kael Draven, dressed in black again, his back straight, his hands clasped behind him.
He didn’t turn when she entered, but his voice carried easily across the room.
“You’re early.”
Lyra hesitated, unsure if that was praise or reprimand. She gave a small nod.
“Good,” he said simply, turning toward her. The morning light hit his face — sharp jawline, dark hair slightly tousled, eyes that burned gold even in the soft glow. There was an effortless authority in the way he stood, a quiet danger that made the air itself bend around him.
He tossed her a wooden staff. She caught it neatly, surprising him again.
“We start with control,” Kael said. “Speed without control is useless. Show me your stance.”
Lyra obeyed, body flowing into position. Her father had taught her the basics long ago, but Kael’s movements were sharper, more refined. He circled her slowly, correcting the angle of her grip, the distance between her feet. When his hand brushed her wrist, heat shot up her arm like lightning.
Her wolf stirred — restless, alert.
Kael paused for a moment, eyes flickering gold, then cleared his throat and stepped back. “Better,” he muttered. “Now, attack.”
She moved. Fast, precise — but he blocked every strike effortlessly. His speed was unreal. When he countered, she barely dodged. Each time she tried, he read her like a book — until he swept her staff aside and pinned her wrist mid-air.
She froze, breath shallow, eyes wide.
For a heartbeat, neither moved. His grip was firm but not painful. Their eyes locked, and that same strange current buzzed between them again — stronger now, alive.
Kael released her abruptly and stepped back, jaw tight.
“Again,” he said, voice rougher this time.
They trained for hours — until her muscles burned and sweat dampened her hair. When she finally dropped to one knee, exhausted, Kael exhaled slowly.
“You don’t give up easily,” he said, almost approving.
Lyra met his gaze and gave a small shake of her head.
“Good.” His voice softened. “You shouldn’t.”
Something flickered across his expression — admiration, maybe even pride — but he quickly masked it. “That’s enough for today. Be here at dawn tomorrow.”
As she turned to leave, he spoke again.
“Lyra.”
Her heart stumbled. It was the first time he’d said her name with that quiet tone — gentle, almost protective.
He hesitated, studying her face. “Does it bother you?”
She blinked in confusion.
“The whispers. The attention.”
She hesitated, then shook her head. It wasn’t entirely true, but she couldn’t speak even if she wanted to.
Kael’s jaw clenched. “They’re idiots,” he said under his breath. “You have more strength than half of them combined.”
Before she could react, a faint alarm rang through the academy halls — low, haunting, urgent. Kael’s expression shifted instantly.
“Stay here,” he ordered, voice sharp.
Lyra’s pulse quickened as he disappeared into the corridor. Shouts echoed from outside — students running, guards barking orders. Something was wrong.
Ignoring his command, she ran after him.
Smoke curled through the west courtyard. The ground was cracked and glowing faintly red. Several students lay unconscious, and in the distance, dark figures moved — rogues, cloaked in shadow.
Kael was already fighting — his movements deadly and fluid, claws flashing. The sight made Lyra’s chest tighten with awe and fear. But when one of the attackers raised a blade toward him from behind, something inside her snapped.
Without thinking, she sprinted forward.
The blade struck Kael — and Lyra threw herself in front of him. Pain seared through her shoulder. She gasped silently, stumbling to her knees. Kael caught her instantly, fury blazing in his eyes.
“Lyra!”
His voice shook. He pressed his hand over her wound — but then froze as soft, silver light began to glow from her skin.
The pain faded. The blood stopped. The wound sealed completely.
Kael’s eyes widened. “You’re… healing.”
No — not healing. She was healing herself.
And when her glowing hands brushed his arm, a second light spread — closing a cut on his skin too. The glow dimmed, leaving silence behind.
Kael stared at her like she was something impossible. “That ability— it’s been lost for centuries.”
Lyra’s breath came shallow. She didn’t understand what had just happened. All she knew was that she could still feel his heartbeat through his chest, steady and strong.
And the bond between them pulsed — alive, electric, undeniable.
Kael’s gaze softened for the first time. His voice dropped to a whisper.
“Fate,” he murmured. “It’s you.”
Lyra froze, heart pounding as he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face.
His touch was gentle, reverent — the touch of a man realizing he’d found what he never expected.
His destined mate.
And though she couldn’t speak, her silence said everything her heart couldn’t — she had felt it too.
- Writer
