Fated to the Alpha

Zayden’s fingers were trembling, knotted in the sheets as if they could anchor him to this moment — to the way Ezrael’s breath tasted on his skin, to the heat of the body curled around him like it belonged there. Like it had always belonged there. It did belong here. “I’m going to lose you, aren’t I?” Zayden murmured, tears building. Ezrael didn’t answer. She only watched him — her glowing eyes full of that ancient, aching calm. The kind that came from knowing how stories ended… long before they ever began. She knew she didn't have enough time. Outside, thunder murmured. The temple walls held tight, but the world was changing. They both felt it in the air — like something sacred was unraveling. Like this was their last chance to pretend they weren’t destined to break. It was known from the start. Ezrael, the moon spirit couldn't be with a werewolf but she proved stubborn. Zayden rolled over and kissed her. There was no hesitation. Ezrael met him like a woman trying to carve her name into time. Their mouths fit together like a secret language — tongues and gasps and the soft thud of hearts hitting walls they couldn’t climb. “You called me Ezrael,” she whispered, later, breathless as Zayden’s mouth trailed down her throat. “That’s your name, your highness.” “Stop it sweetie... don't call me that. But that's not my name. Not anymore. Not here.” Zayden pulled back just long enough to look at her— like really look. “They’re going to take you from me?.” “They already have.The moon goddess is displeased of this relationship....we were disobeying the gods!” The words burned. Not like fire — like truth. Sharp, unrelenting. Zayden grabbed her face, desperate. “Then I’ll remember. I swear I will.” But Ezrael was shaking her head, a soft smile on her lips and sorrow in her eyes. “No, Zayden. You won’t.” Their last time together wasn’t slow like always. It wasn’t sweet. It was fire meeting wind — tears and moans and promises made through clenched fists. It was desperate. Final. Every thrust, every kiss, every whispered 'I love you' was a rebellion against fate. And it didn’t matter. Because when Zayden woke up, he was alone. No body beside him. No scent on the sheets. No sign Ezrael had ever existed at all. Not even in her paintings only in his memory. His image in Zayden's head was messy so he painted out his lover and took it around with him. He couldn't forget.