Bound to my Alpha

Chapter Three

The night before Zayne and Blake left for the Alpha–Beta Academy, the Silver Ridge compound felt wrong.

Too quiet.

Even the Everly Woods behind the packhouse seemed to know something was changing. The wind barely moved through the trees, and the usual sounds of the compound—laughter, shouting, wolves sparring in the pits long after dinner—had dulled to a low murmur, like the whole pack was trying not to disturb the weight hanging over us.

Inside the Hale house, the silence was worse.

My father was pretending not to worry.

That was how Lucas Hale handled things he couldn’t control. He organized. He checked lists. He reorganized what had already been organized. By the time I came downstairs after dinner, he was kneeling beside the supply crates lined up near the front door, lifting blankets and spare clothes with a deep crease between his brows.

My mother stood in the kitchen doorway with a mug of tea in one hand, watching him with equal parts affection and exasperation.

“Lucas,” she said, “if you inspect those shirts one more time, Blake is going to arrive at the academy naked just to spite you.”

Dad didn’t look up. “I’m making sure everything is packed properly.”

“Everything was packed properly an hour ago.”

He folded a thermal shirt with far more force than necessary. “It’s cold in the north.”

Mom took a sip of tea. “I’m aware. I’ve been north before.”

“It’s different at the academy.”

That made me stop halfway down the stairs.

The academy.

No one in Silver Ridge said those words lightly.

At eighteen, once the Alpha heir and his future Beta graduated high school, they were sent away. No exceptions. No delays. No arguing with tradition.

The Alpha–Beta Academy sat somewhere deep in the northern mountains, beyond the mapped territory of any one pack. I had never seen it, but I’d heard enough stories growing up to build it in my mind—gray stone buildings, endless snow, brutal drills before dawn, combat training until collapse, strategy lessons that lasted late into the night. It was where boys were turned into leaders. Or broken trying.

Only future Alphas and Betas went.

That was what made it such a big deal.

The pack wasn’t just sending away two graduates.

Silver Ridge was sending away its future.

Mom’s gaze flicked up and caught mine on the stairs. “You’re hovering.”

“I’m not hovering.”

“You’re eavesdropping, then.”

“That too,” I admitted, coming down the rest of the way.

Dad sat back on his heels and looked at me. For a moment the lines of stress in his face softened.

“You should be in bed.”

“I’m not tired.”

That wasn’t true. I was exhausted. But sleep felt impossible tonight.

Dad stood and brushed his hands down the front of his jeans. “The boys need to be at the Blackwood house before sunrise.”

“I know.”

My voice came out flatter than I meant it to.

For a second, none of us said anything.

Mom set her tea down and crossed the room. Her hand slid gently over my braid, smoothing a few loose strands back into place.

“They’re not disappearing forever, Alexandra.”

Two years.

Only home for Christmas.

Not forever, maybe, but close enough.

I looked at Dad. “Did you go?”

He nodded once. “For a year.”

Mom lifted a brow. “And hated every second.”

“I did not hate it.”

“You wrote me three letters complaining about the food alone.”

A reluctant smile tugged at Dad’s mouth. “The food was terrible.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “What’s it really like?”

He glanced toward the front windows, as if he could already see Blake and Zayne leaving.

“It’s not meant to be easy,” he said. “It teaches discipline. Leadership. Strategy. Combat. Survival. Control. Every future Alpha and Beta trains there because one day other wolves will depend on them. The academy makes sure they understand the weight of that before they come home wearing a title.”

Mom leaned against the table. “It also strips away comfort, pride, and laziness. Which is why it’s useful.”

I swallowed. “And they really only come home at Christmas?”

Dad nodded again. “If they earn the privilege.”

That sank into me harder than I expected.

If they earned it.

For all his confidence, even Zayne couldn’t charm his way out of that.

My chest tightened.

Blake and Zayne had always been older, always a step ahead of me, but they had still been here. Across the courtyard. In the training pits. In the woods. One shout away.

By tomorrow, they’d be gone to some freezing mountain academy where even coming home for a holiday had to be earned.

Mom must have seen something on my face because her expression gentled again.

“You’ll be fine,” she said softly.

That almost made me laugh.

No, I thought. I won’t.

But I only nodded and made some excuse about needing air before slipping outside.

The night hit me cold and clean.

Silver Ridge stretched around me in shadows and golden windowlight, the familiar paths between the pack houses glowing under the moon. Across the courtyard stood the Blackwood manor, larger than the rest but never showy. Its stone walls were pale in the moonlight, and several downstairs windows were still lit.

So was one upstairs window.

Zayne’s.

I crossed to the bench beneath my bedroom window and climbed onto the sill from outside, curling up where I could see his room clearly across the courtyard.

He was moving around inside, packing.

Even from here, I recognized the way he moved—quick, purposeful, restless. He folded clothes, dropped boots into a duffel, crossed the room again, came back. He looked bigger lately. Broader through the shoulders. Sharper around the jaw. Less like the boy who used to race me through the Everly Woods and more like the future Alpha everyone already saw when they looked at him.

I hated that thought.

Because it meant he was changing.

And I didn’t know if there would still be room for me in the life he came back to.

He stopped at his desk and picked something up.

I couldn’t tell what it was from this distance. He stood there for several long seconds, staring at it, before setting it carefully into his bag.

My throat tightened.

Tomorrow he’d leave.

Tomorrow Blake would leave.

Tomorrow the three of us would stop being what we’d always been.

As if he felt my eyes on him, Zayne turned toward the window.

Directly toward me.

I froze.

For one strange, breathless moment, neither of us moved.

He stepped closer to the glass, one hand braced on the frame, his face half-shadowed by moonlight. There was nothing dramatic about it. No smile. No wave. Just Zayne looking at me from across the compound like he knew I couldn’t sleep either.

My pulse kicked hard against my ribs.

Stupid, I thought. Completely stupid.

We were just looking at each other through windows like two weird teenagers who had never learned how to use doors.

Still, I couldn’t look away.

Then his mouth tipped slightly at one corner.

A small smile.

Private.

Just for me.

Heat rushed to my face so fast it was humiliating.

I reached up and yanked my curtain shut.

Darkness swallowed my room.

I sat there for a second, breathing too fast, then dropped back onto my bed and pressed my hands over my burning cheeks.

Get a grip, Alexandra.

He was Zayne.

Blake’s best friend. My oldest friend. The future Alpha.

And tomorrow he would leave.

That should have been the only thing on my mind.

Instead, all I could think about was that tiny almost-smile before I closed the curtain.

I lay awake a long time after that, staring at the ceiling while the compound settled deeper into silence.

Somewhere across the courtyard, Zayne Blackwood was packing for the life he’d been born for.

And in the morning, Silver Ridge would hand him over to it.

By the time I finally drifted off, one thought was lodged so firmly in my chest it hurt.

Tomorrow changed everything.