Did My Alpha See?
972 Words
The water shimmered under the late morning sun as warriors wrestled and laughed in the stream. The clearing echoed with splashes, shouts, and the occasional snap of raw energy, wolf strength flashing beneath skin. Lyra sat on a smooth stone near the river’s edge, her dress still damp from the incident with the cup, but her heart felt oddly light.
Ronan hadn’t looked at her since. He hadn’t spoken, hadn’t acknowledged her presence once. But she was here. Breathing the same air. Hearing the way his voice commanded respect with no effort. Watching the way the water clung to the muscles on his back, the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck.
She would’ve sat there all day if she could.
A few feet away, Aria stood with arms crossed and an ever present scowl, watching the warriors like a mother hen surrounded by foxes.
“If you sigh dreamily one more time,” she muttered, “I will toss myself into this river.”
Lyra smiled, cheek resting against her knees. “He’s so beautiful when he’s not talking.”
“He’s also cruel, dismissive, and borderline sociopathic.”
“But beautiful,” Lyra said again, sighing. “I mean…look at him.”
Before Aria could answer, the sound changed.
It started subtle, birds fluttering up from trees in a panicked wave. Then came the snap of branches. The low growl of something wrong. Warriors stiffened immediately, turning toward the treeline as their wolves bristled just beneath their skin.
Then they were howls.
Sharp, ragged, and unnatural.
“Rogues!” someone shouted.
Before Lyra could blink, the calm morning exploded into chaos.
Shapes burst from the woods, filthy, wild wolves with frothing mouths and blood stained fur. Half shifted forms lunged across the riverbank, snarling, eyes yellow with madness.
Ronan was the first to move.
He shifted mid leap, his bones snapping, skin tearing, fur blooming like shadow across his form. His wolf, black as the void, larger than any beast she’d ever seen slammed into the first rogue with a roar that shook the forest.
The warriors followed, shifting instantly, baring teeth and claws. Water turned red. Screams and growls filled the clearing. Claws slashed. Bones broke. It was beautiful and brutal all at once.
Lyra stood frozen in place, trembling.
“Lyra!” Aria grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “We have to go!”
“No,” Lyra whispered. “He’s outnumbered. He’s…look!”
Ronan was surrounded.
Three rogues had him pinned near a large boulder. Blood soaked his side. He slashed, bit, twisted but one rogue lunged onto his back, fangs sinking into his neck. Another drove into his ribs, trying to tear through his hide.
He stumbled. Just for a second.
And that second was enough to shatter something inside Lyra.
“No!” she screamed, and before Aria could stop her, she ran.
“Lyra!” Aria shrieked. “Stop! What are you doing?! It’s not your job to protect him.”
But Lyra didn’t hear her. Her blood roared in her ears. Her feet barely touched the ground.
She ran into the battle.
Dodged claws.
Jumped over a dying rogue.
And hurled herself between the wolves and Ronan just as one of them lunged again, jaws wide and dripping with death.
“GET AWAY FROM HIM!” she screamed.
Fangs met flesh.
Pain like fire exploded across her shoulder and chest. She was flung back, her body twisting midair before she crashed into the riverbank with a sickening crack.
She couldn’t breathe.
She couldn’t move.
The world spun.
Her dress was soaked in blood.
Somewhere, a wolf howled in fury. Warriors roared. The fight surged again. Ronan’s shadow passed over her, dark and massive, as he drove his jaws into the rogue that had hurt her. Bones snapped. Blood sprayed.
But he didn’t look at her.
Not once.
He didn’t stop. Didn’t speak. Didn’t hesitate.
He went on killing.
Like she hadn’t just thrown her body between him and death.
Like she hadn’t screamed for him with her whole soul.
Like she wasn’t lying there, broken and bloody at his feet.
“Lyra! LYRA!”
Aria’s voice came in waves.
Hands touched her but they were gentle, panicked, strong. Two warriors knelt beside her, murmuring curses under their breath.
“She’s bleeding too fast.”
“Her shoulder’s torn open.”
“She’s got a puncture near the ribs…dammit!”
“What was she thinking? He could have handled it!”
Aria was crying, her hands shaking as she tried to keep pressure on the wound. “Stay with me, Lyra. Stay with me, okay? Please don’t close your eyes. Please don’t go where I can’t follow.”
Lyra’s lips moved.
She tried to smile.
“I saved him…” she whispered.
Tears streamed down Aria’s cheeks. “You i***t. You stupid, brave idiot.”
“Did… did he see?”
Aria froze.
Bit her lip.
And lied, “Yes. He saw.”
Lyra smiled faintly and slipped into darkness.
The warriors lifted her gently, cradling her body like a fallen leaf. Blood trailed in droplets behind them.
As they carried her toward the healer’s quarters, Aria ran beside them, still clutching Lyra’s limp hand, whispering prayers through her tears.
“Don’t you dare leave me,” she said. “Don’t you dare die for a man who didn’t blink.”
Behind them, the clearing reeked of death.
Ronan stood over the last of the rogues, his black fur matted with blood, golden eyes glowing like firelight in the smoke.
His expression was unreadable.
His voice cold as winter.
“Burn the bodies,” he said. “We end this now.”
No one mentioned the girl who had bled for him.
No one dared.
And Ronan never looked back.
- Writer
