Chapter 10: The Alpha They Couldn't Chain
579 Words
They came for him at dawn.
Five wolves. All black-cloaked. All branded with the royal crescent.
Kael stood in the clearing, shirtless, arms crossed, waiting.
He didn’t run.
Didn’t snarl.
Didn’t shift.
He only asked one question.
“Are you here to leash me…”
His voice was low.
“Or to kneel?”
The first wolf lunged.
The others followed.
It was over in less than three minutes.
Blood stained the moss. Limbs scattered. One wolf still breathed—barely.
Kael crouched before him, golden eyes burning.
“I am the Alpha they couldn't chain,” he whispered.
“Tell your queen.”
By the time Luna returned from the lower valley with supplies, the clearing smelled like war.
She raised a brow at the bodies.
“Trouble?”
“Just a message,” Kael said, wiping his hands.
She handed him a bundle of herbs.
“You’ve got three days before they send actual warriors.”
“Then we use them.”
That night, Kael lit the ceremonial fire at the heart of the old hunter’s circle.
It had not burned in years—not since the rogue king died.
Not since Luna’s people and Kael’s last shared an oath of peace.
Now, the two bloodlines faced extinction—unless they fought together.
“I will not ask you to kneel,” Kael told the small crowd gathered—rogue wolves, exile hunters, defected guards.
“But I will ask you to stand.
With me.
With her.”
He reached for Luna’s hand.
She stepped forward, bare-shouldered in black, hair unbound, twin daggers at her hips.
“I don’t want a crown,” she said. “I want justice.”
A murmur of approval rose.
She locked eyes with Kael.
“And I want him alive.”
They marked their pact the old way:
By blood.
Luna cut her palm. So did Kael. They pressed hands together as their blood mixed and dripped into the fire.
The flame turned white.
The earth shook.
Magic bloomed—ancient, primal, claiming.
He didn’t bite her.
She didn’t ask.
But the bond between them pulsed in the air, visible, etched across their skin like ink made of moonlight.
Later, after the gathering dispersed, Kael pulled her into the shadows behind the tree line.
“You know what this means,” he said.
“They’ll come for us harder.”
“Then let them.”
He pressed her against the bark.
“I want you,” he growled. “Right here. Right now.”
She pulled him down by the collar.
“Then take me like I belong to no one else.”
He lifted her thighs, spread her open, drove into her with a hunger born of war.
No slow burn. No tease.
Just raw, furious need.
She cried out with every thrust.
He bit her lip. She scratched his back. They moved like wolves in rut—dirty, ruthless, perfect.
When she came, it was with his name on her tongue and her legs trembling.
When he followed, it was with his forehead pressed to hers, a low groan spilling from his lips.
They didn’t speak for minutes after.
Only held.
Breathed.
Burned.
When the moon rose blood-red above the trees, Kael looked toward the distant mountains.
“They’ll ride at full moon,” he said.
“Then we’ll meet them in blood.”
Luna turned to him, eyes glowing silver.
“And this time, we don’t run.”
- Writer
