The Ugly Alpha Wants Me

Chapter 3 - First Encounter

The third scream tore through the night, and Ayla couldn't just stand there anymore. Her heart was breaking listening to someone in that much pain—someone who sounded so human, even though she knew he was anything but.

She had to do something.

Ayla quietly opened her bedroom door. The castle felt completely different at night. Darker. More alive somehow. Shadows seemed to move on their own across the walls, and her bare feet made soft sounds against the cold marble floor. Every step matched her racing heartbeat.

She remembered exploring the castle that afternoon. The main tower was in the east wing, and you could reach it through a spiral staircase behind this fancy carved door. Ayla moved carefully, following some instinct that seemed to guide her through all the twisting hallways.

Moonlight poured through the tall windows, creating bright silver paths that lit her way. The night air felt sharper here, and her silk nightgown wasn't nearly warm enough. She shivered, though she wasn't sure if it was from the cold or her nerves.

Auuuuuu...

There it was again. Clearer now. Closer. Ayla stopped, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. She could still turn around. Go back to her room. Pretend she never heard anything.

But then she remembered all those nights she'd cried alone, desperately wishing someone would hear her and care enough to check on her.

She kept going.

The tower door wasn't locked. The cold iron handle turned easily, showing her the spiral staircase that wound up like a stone snake. Each step was worn smooth from centuries of people climbing this same path.

With every step up, the sounds got clearer. It wasn't just pain—there was something else mixed in with the agony. Anger. Despair. And underneath it all, something that sounded like... crushing loneliness.

Ayla stopped in front of a massive wooden door at the top of the tower. Golden light leaked through the cracks, and she could hear movement inside—something heavy crashing, followed by rough, painful breathing.

Her hands were shaking as she knocked softly.

Complete silence.

Then heavy footsteps, and the door flew open with violent force.

Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw.

A towering figure stood before her, powerful but somehow exhausted. Half his face was hidden behind a dark iron mask with intricate patterns carved into it like twisted vines. His visible eye—the right one—blazed red in the darkness, staring at her with a mix of fury and shock.

But it wasn't the mask or that burning stare that stole her breath. It was the condition he was in.

His black robes were torn to shreds, showing skin covered in bleeding wounds. These weren't normal cuts—they pulsed with an otherworldly light, like something inside him was trying to break free. His bare hand had spiral burn scars wrapped around his fingers like chains, with fresh blood dripping from the tips.

"What are you doing here?" Zephan's voice came out raw and deep, like he'd been screaming for hours.

Ayla opened her mouth but nothing came out. Seeing the Alpha like this had completely shocked her speechless.

"I asked you a question, human!" Zephan stepped forward, threatening. "What are you doing in this tower? Who said you could come here?"

"I... I heard sounds..." Ayla finally managed, her voice shaking.

"So you came for the show?" Zephan's laugh was harsh and bitter. "Wanted to see how pathetic a cursed Alpha really looks? Curious about what a real monster becomes?"

"No!" Ayla said quickly, shaking her head. "That's not—"

"Then what?" Zephan moved closer, his red eye blazing with anger. "You think you can play hero? Think you can save the monster?"

Ayla stepped back but didn't run. Something in Zephan's voice—beneath all that fury—revealed a pain so deep it made her chest ache. "I didn't mean to—"

"GET OUT!" Zephan roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Leave before you see something that will give you nightmares forever!"

But Ayla stood her ground. She looked straight into that burning red eye, searching for something beyond the rage.

"GET OUT!" he bellowed again, his voice changing into something not completely human—something wilder, more dangerous.

Ayla took another step back, but then she saw it—something that cut straight through to her soul. A single tear sliding down from his unmasked eye, making a slow path down his scarred cheek.

The Alpha that entire clans feared was crying.

"You're... you're crying," Ayla whispered, her voice so soft it barely disturbed the air.

Zephan froze. His wounded hand went to his cheek, like he was just realizing the wetness there. When his fingers found the tear, his whole expression changed—from rage to shock, then to something like deep shame.

"Don't..." his voice became a hoarse whisper. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I still have a heart that can be broken," Zephan said, his voice cracking. "Like there's still something left in me worth saving."

Ayla felt something bloom in her chest—something warm and painful at the same time. She couldn't name it, but it felt like the need to protect, to comfort, to hold this broken man in front of her.

"Maybe there is," Ayla said softly, taking one small step forward.

"DON'T!" Zephan stumbled backward, hitting a table. Bottles filled with strange liquids crashed to the floor, releasing colorful smoke that stung the air. "Don't come closer! You don't know what could happen!"

Ayla stopped but didn't back away. "I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be!" Zephan cried out in frustration. "You should run screaming like everyone else! You should see me as the monster I really am!"

"But I don't see you that way."

The words hung between them, creating a heavy, meaningful silence. Zephan stared at her with those glistening red eyes, like he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

"You don't know anything about me," he whispered finally.

"Maybe not," Ayla nodded. "But I know what it feels like to be alone. I know what it's like when people look at you like you're less than human. And I know the feeling of hoping someone might hear your tears."

Zephan went silent, his whole body trembling—whether from physical pain or from Ayla's words touching some old wound in his heart.

"I couldn't ignore it, because I know what it means to suffer alone."

"You don't understand," Zephan shook his head, his voice shaking. "This curse... it's not just physical pain. Every night, I feel my body slowly dying, my humanity disappearing piece by piece. I become more of a monster every single day."

"But you can still cry," Ayla said. "Monsters can't cry."

Zephan stared at her with confused eyes. "Why don't you run? Why don't you flee from a monster like me?"

Ayla thought about her answer, wanting to be honest. "Because... because I see something in your eyes. Something still alive, still feeling. And I can't ignore that."

They stood in silence, looking at each other across just a few steps that felt like a huge divide. Ayla could sense something changing between them—something subtle but real, like a fragile bridge starting to span that gap.

Then Zephan stepped back, breaking their connection.

"Never come here again," he said in a hoarse voice, no longer shouting. "Never come near me again, especially at night. I can't promise you'll be safe."

"Why?"

"Because this curse doesn't just hurt me," Zephan met her eyes with a warning look. "It makes me dangerous to anyone who gets too close. And I won't hurt an innocent person."

Ayla felt her heart sink. Something in Zephan's tone suggested he'd hurt someone before, and that guilt was still eating at him.

"I'm not afraid of getting hurt," Ayla said quietly.

"You should be," Zephan turned away, showing her his back. "Because I'm terrified of hurting you."

The words were spoken so softly that Ayla almost missed them. But she heard them, and they made something deep in her chest flutter.

An Alpha feared by entire clans, considered a cursed monster, was afraid of hurting someone as small and vulnerable as her. There was something both heartbreaking and beautiful about that truth.

"Go," Zephan whispered without turning around. "And never come back."

Ayla wanted to say something, to tell him she wouldn't leave, that she would come back because something inside her couldn't ignore his suffering. But seeing that proud back shaking with held-back pain, she realized her being here might hurt more than help.

With a heavy heart, she turned toward the door.

"Ayla."

He called her name just as she reached the doorway. She turned to see Zephan still facing away from her.

"Thank you," he said, his voice barely audible. "It's been so long since anyone... cared."

Tears filled Ayla's eyes. "I will always care."

Then she left that room, leaving Zephan alone with his darkness and pain. But something had changed between them—something delicate but deep, like a thin thread starting to connect two wounded souls.

As she walked back down the spiral stairs, Ayla knew with absolute certainty that she would return. No matter what he said, no matter how much he tried to push her away, she couldn't abandon him to suffer alone.

Not when she'd seen the tears of a man who'd forgotten he still had a heart worth saving.