Chapter 6 – The Alpha’s First Sight
1174 Words
The moon was high and hidden behind thick, shifting clouds when Kai heard the SUV pull into the gravel driveway.
He had been waiting. This had felt as important to him as it had been to his Beta. Growing up as brothers meant Ethan’s pain was also his to share.
The fire in the hearth had long since dimmed to embers, but he hadn’t moved from the window—not since the call from Mira to let him know they had Jane secured and were on the road.
Rain streaked down the glass in thin rivers. The scent of wet earth and coastal salt rolled in through the open pane. And underneath it… something new.
Something sharp.
He was down the stairs before the car doors had even opened.
Mira stepped out first. Her braid was wind-tossed and her coat soaked through. She caught Kai’s eyes and nodded once—mission complete. He let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding.
As Mira stepped aside, Ethan emerged from the passenger side. He opened the back door and lifted her out carefully, shielding her with his body from the wind, holding a coat above both of them.
The only thing Kai could really make out of her was her bare feet—pale and raw against the gravel.
Kai’s world narrowed as they got closer to the door.
She looked like a ghost.
Ethan made it to the front step, now sheltered from the rain, and peeled the damp coat off from over them.
Kai’s eyes analyzed the alleged lost wolf from the ground up.
Pale skin, thinner than he imagined. Her soaked hospital gown clung to her fragile frame. Her hair, matted and dull brown, hung limp around her face. The gown was too large, slipping off one bony shoulder. Her head lolled weakly against Ethan’s chest.
But none of that mattered.
The moment his eyes met hers—just briefly, those large, tired but piercing eyes peeking from behind the hair hanging in her face—it hit.
The mate bond struck him like lightning behind his ribs. His heart palpitated in shock and awe.
A low sound rumbled in his throat. His wolf surged forward in his chest, claws out, tail lashing, howling a wordless sound he’d never heard before:
Mate. Ours.
Kai stood still, stunned, his mouth slightly ajar.
She smelled like rain and what he could only describe as winter ash—cold, despondent, faint, masked by the piercing scent of medical detergent… but unmistakable. A thread woven through his own blood. The recognition settled in his bones before his mind could catch up.
Ethan looked up sharply, confused.
“Kai,” he said cautiously. “You gonna let us in?”
Kai didn’t answer immediately. His voice was caught between awe and grief.
Mira echoed, “Alpha Kai?”
Kai snapped back to reality, shaking his head and stepping aside to make way. He patted Ethan on the shoulder. “Come in quickly. Put her on the sofa—I’ll get the fire going again.”
They ushered in behind him.
He lingered a little longer at the door, closing it slowly, keeping his back to them just a moment longer. Just a breath more to process what the hell was happening.
He’d expected something tonight, but not this. Not her.
He had pictured firelight and clarity. A woman strong and wild and whole. Not this trembling figure who barely held herself upright.
“Is she…” Kai forced the words out. “Is she sedated?”
Mira nodded. “IV drip in the car. Her system’s overwhelmed. She hasn’t shifted. She doesn’t even know.”
Kai stepped closer, stealing a quick glance at the limp figure Ethan was carefully settling onto the leather sofa.
“Mira,” Kai called out, “grab a blanket and some dry clothes from my mother’s old quarters. Upstairs—left corridor.”
Mira nodded and disappeared, the sound of her boots echoing up the stairs.
Kai knelt at the hearth, coaxing a new fire to life to warm this broken bird lying on his couch.
The bond pulled at him like a current, even with his back turned.
Her head turned faintly toward the sound of his voice, murmuring something to the familiar stranger who had rescued her.
Her eyes tried to focus—stormy, dulled, but familiar.
“She looks like a wisp of a being,” Kai whispered.
“She looks like what they made her into,” Ethan growled softly.
They were inside Kai’s personal home now, safe and away from prying eyes. They had to evaluate this carefully, especially now that Kai had learned this broken shell of a person was supposed to be his mate. But what was clear—urgent, even—was that she needed care.
“We have to keep her hidden,” Kai muttered, already pacing toward the landline phone.
Ethan blinked. “What?”
“No one sees her until she’s stronger,” Kai said, picking up the receiver. “The rumors would tear her apart. Tear me… I mean us apart.”
Mira returned to the room, her arms full of soft, folded fabric. “This should work,” she said gently. She knelt beside Jane. “Ethan…” she added, glancing up. “I’m going to need your help with this.”
Ethan sighed and nodded. Her well-being outweighed any polite social construct right now.
Kai’s voice came low but firm into the phone. “Healer Vanessa. I’m sorry to disturb you at this hour. I require your assistance.”
There was a pause. Then softer, “And your discretion.”
The line clicked, and Kai replaced the receiver slowly. He slipped his hands into his pockets and crossed the room in long strides.
He stopped, standing over the woman on his couch. The woman the Moon Goddess had chosen for him. The woman who didn’t even know who she was yet.
“The lighthouse island,” he murmured aloud.
Ethan, now sitting on the floor beside his sister, looked up.
“It’s isolated. Safe. And only three people besides us have access.”
Kai looked at the woman—his mate—now unconscious but warm, dry, curled in a tangle of hair like a nest. His chest ached.
“She needs quiet. Space. Time to remember herself. To heal.”
His voice dropped low.
“And the Moon Goddess help anyone who says otherwise.”
Later, in the early hours of morning, Jane stirred faintly in her sleep.
Her dreams were nothing but fog and the sensation of being carried. Murmurs. Heat at her side.
A heartbeat not her own.
And the faintest scent of pine, sea wind… and something wild.
Her lips parted. Her brow furrowed.
Her head pounded, but not enough to quiet the whisper in her bones:
He’s here.
Who? she thought
But when she tried to open her eyes, the darkness held her
And she drifted back under.
- Writer
