CHAPTER 2: The Alpha Who Shouldn’t Want Her
1482 Words
Eliakim felt her before he saw her.
The moment she crossed the boundary of his territory, something ancient and violent stirred in his chest. His wolf surged forward without warning, claws scraping against his control, growling with a hunger that made his vision darken.
Mate.
The word slammed into his mind like a curse.
“No,” Eliakim muttered under his breath, fingers tightening around the glass in his hand.
This was impossible.
He had lived for years without hope of such a bond. His Luna had abandoned him long ago, severing their connection so cruelly that the scars still burned whenever the moon was full. The elders whispered that the Moon Goddess had turned her back on him, that he was unworthy of a second chance.
Yet now—
Now the bond screamed alive.
From the balcony of the pack hall, Eliakim looked out across the lantern-lit grounds of the plaza. Music drifted through the night air, mingling with laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft hum of celebration. The pack was restless tonight, energized by an unfamiliar presence they could not name.
And at the edge of it all…
Her.
She stood still, as if the land itself resisted her presence. Dark hair framed a face carved by quiet pain and unyielding resolve. Her eyes, sharp and guarded, scanned the territory like a warrior measuring a battlefield.
Not a frightened she-wolf.
Not a hopeful one either.
Dangerous.
Eliakim’s jaw tightened.
“Alpha,” one of the guards said carefully from behind. “A lone she-wolf has entered the outer grounds. No challenge. No request for shelter.”
“I know,” Eliakim replied coldly.
Because his wolf would not shut up.
She’s ours, the beast snarled. She belongs to us.
“She doesn’t belong to anyone,” Eliakim snapped internally, gripping the stone railing. He refused to be ruled by instinct again. Refused to be broken twice.
Still, his body betrayed him.
His pulse thundered. His senses sharpened painfully, tracking every subtle movement she made. The faint scent of her—wild jasmine and rain—reached him, wrapping around his control like silk and steel combined.
“Bring her in,” Eliakim said at last. “Politely.”
The guards hesitated. “Alpha… she feels… different.”
“I said bring her in.”
Minutes later, she stood before him in the great hall.
Close enough now that the bond roared.
Eliakim forced his expression into practiced indifference as he descended the steps. Every instinct urged him to reach for her, to claim, to protect.
Instead, he stopped a careful distance away.
“What is your name?” he asked.
She lifted her chin, unflinching under his Alpha pressure.
“Hadassah.”
The sound of it sent a violent pull through his chest.
Mate.
His wolf howled.
Hadassah met his gaze without submission, without fear. Only calculation flickered behind her eyes.
“I seek temporary shelter,” she continued evenly. “I can work. I don’t cause trouble.”
Eliakim studied her closely.
There was strength beneath her calm exterior—hard-earned and sharpened by loss. Faint scars marked her aura, invisible to human eyes but screaming to a wolf’s senses.
A broken mate bond.
His control slipped for a fraction of a second.
“Who hurt you?” The question escaped him before he could stop it.
Her lips curved slightly. Not a smile. A warning.
“That’s none of your concern, Alpha.”
Silence fell heavy between them.
The pack watched.
Eliakim straightened, reclaiming authority. “This territory does not harbor wanderers without reason.”
Hadassah stepped closer.
Not submissive.
Not defiant.
Intentional.
“I heard this pack values strength,” she said softly. “And fairness.”
His wolf surged again, furious and possessive.
She challenges us.
“I do,” Eliakim replied coldly. “And I value honesty.”
Her gaze flickered—just once.
“I want to stay,” Hadassah said. “And I am willing to give you what you want.”
Danger.
Every alarm in his mind blared.
“And what exactly do you think I want?” Eliakim asked.
Her voice lowered. “An ally. A woman who won’t break under pressure. Someone useful.”
She didn’t say Luna.
But the implication hung thick in the air.
Eliakim took a step forward, towering over her. His Alpha aura pressed down, testing.
She didn’t kneel.
Didn’t flinch.
Didn’t run.
The bond flared violently, sending pain and longing crashing through him at once.
“You don’t know what you’re offering,” he said roughly.
Her eyes darkened. “I know exactly what I’m offering.”
A weapon.
A temptation.
A mistake.
The pack murmured.
Eliakim exhaled slowly.
For a brief moment, Eliakim said nothing.
The silence stretched, thick and dangerous, until the pack began to feel it pressing against their chests. His power bled into the air unconsciously, a warning and a shield at once. Several wolves lowered their gazes, instinctively submitting to his unrest.
Hadassah, however, remained still.
That alone unsettled him.
Most she-wolves sensed an Alpha’s turmoil and reacted—fear, awe, submission. Hadassah showed none of it. If anything, she seemed to study him, as though measuring the cracks in his armor.
“You’re reckless,” Eliakim said slowly. “Walking into another Alpha’s territory without protection.”
Her lips curved faintly. “I wasn’t unprotected.”
His brows knit together. “You stand alone.”
She met his gaze steadily. “That doesn’t mean I’m defenseless.”
Something twisted painfully in his chest.
Once, long ago, his first mate had spoken the same words—proud, unyielding, convinced strength meant never needing anyone. He remembered how that had ended. Remembered the night she turned her back on him and chose another Alpha’s bed.
His wolf growled low, sensing the echo of old betrayal.
“Confidence without caution gets wolves killed,” Eliakim said.
Hadassah stepped closer, lowering her voice so only he could hear. “And obedience without self-respect gets them broken.”
The words struck deeper than he expected.
The pack shifted uncomfortably. A few elders exchanged wary glances. They felt it too—the tension between Alpha and stranger vibrating like a drawn blade.
“You speak boldly for someone seeking refuge,” Eliakim said.
“I speak honestly,” she replied. “Because lies waste time. And I don’t have time to waste.”
Eliakim searched her face, his senses brushing against her aura again. The damage there was undeniable. Whoever her mate had been, he hadn’t merely rejected her—he had destroyed something sacred.
A dangerous anger stirred within Eliakim, sharp and territorial.
Ours, his wolf snarled again. She should have been ours.
Eliakim forced the thought down.
“You think staying here will heal you?” he asked quietly.
“No,” Hadassah answered without hesitation. “I think staying here will make me stronger.”
A ripple of murmurs spread through the hall.
Strength.
Not love. Not comfort. Not belonging.
Revenge flickered briefly in her eyes before vanishing behind a mask of calm.
That was when Eliakim understood.
She wasn’t here to be saved.
She was here to use him.
The realization should have angered him.
Instead, it thrilled him in a way he despised.
Eliakim straightened, every inch the Alpha again. “If you stay,” he said, voice cold steel, “you will not manipulate this pack.”
Her gaze sharpened. “I wouldn’t dare manipulate something I respect.”
“And me?” he challenged.
Her lips parted, then closed again.
“That,” she said softly, “depends on whether you give me a reason.”
The bond pulsed violently between them, alive and demanding, as if mocking every word they spoke.
Eliakim inhaled slowly.
Fate had brought a storm to his doorstep.
And he was about to invite it inside.
“Very well,” he said. “You may stay.”
Hadassah’s shoulders relaxed slightly—but her eyes remained sharp.
“Under my rules,” Eliakim added. “You do nothing without permission. You speak to no one about your past. And you keep your distance from me.”
Her brow arched faintly. “That last rule might be difficult, Alpha.”
His wolf snarled, furious and pleased all at once.
“Test me,” Eliakim warned.
She inclined her head, a mockery of submission. “I wouldn’t dare.”
As she turned to follow the guard away, Eliakim felt it—the sharp tug of the bond pulling at his soul, tightening with every step she took away from him.
His fist clenched.
He had sworn never to let fate dictate his choices again.
But as her scent lingered in the hall, one terrifying truth became impossible to deny—
The Moon Goddess hadn’t abandoned him after all.
She had sent him his greatest weakness.
- Writer
