How Brave Is Your Alpha?
1230 Words
Reza
The door clicks shut behind us with a soft, final sound that feels far too loud in the quiet room.
That’s when my legs finally give out.
If it weren’t for the arm still steady around my shoulders, I’m fairly certain I would have crumpled straight to the floor again. This time without the spectacle of flying papers or an audience to witness it. My body feels hollow, like all the strength has drained out of me at once, leaving only a dull, aching weight behind.
The man, Carl, I realize belatedly, guides me toward a chair and helps me sit. The leather is cool beneath my trembling fingers as I grip the armrest, grounding myself in the sensation, anchoring myself to something real.
“Easy,” he says calmly, as if this is something he does often. “Take your time.”
I nod, because nodding is the only response I can manage right now.
The office is warm. Surprisingly so. Large windows stretch across one wall, letting in soft afternoon light filtered through the trees outside. Dust motes drift lazily in the air. The faint scent of coffee lingers. Familiar, ordinary, almost comforting.
Too ordinary for what just happened out there.
Carl disappears briefly into a small adjoining kitchenette. I hear the tap run. Glass against counter. Controlled, measured movements. Nothing rushed. Nothing frantic.
Unlike me.
Starla is pacing inside my head, restless and broken, her earlier excitement splintered into something raw and aching.
-He left, she whimpers. He smelled us. He knew. And he left.
-I know, I curl my fingers tighter around the chair. I know.
Carl returns with a glass of water and hands it to me carefully. Our fingers brush for the briefest moment. The contact is grounding. Solid. Human.
“Drink,” he says gently.
I obey, taking small sips. The cool water soothes my dry throat, but it does nothing for the tight knot lodged in my chest. Each swallow feels like effort. Like pushing something past a block that refuses to move.
Carl watches me quietly. Sharp blue eyes, observant and steady. There’s weight in his gaze, not unkind, but assessing. Protective, even.
When I’ve drained about half the glass, he finally speaks.
“So,” he says, leaning back against the edge of his desk, arms crossed loosely. “Do you want to tell me who you are?”
The question is simple. Neutral.
And somehow, it nearly breaks me.
“I..” My voice cracks immediately. I clear my throat and try again. “My name is Reza.”
Starla stills, listening.
“I arrived yesterday,” I continue, staring down at the water instead of meeting his eyes. “I transferred here from the Half Moon Pack. I’m… I’m supposed to start working at the pack hospital once I’m done with the paperwork.”
Carl’s eyebrows lift slightly. “The Half Moon Pack,” he repeats, as if turning the name over in his mind. “That explains a few things.”
My grip tightens around the glass. “Explains what?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he exhales softly and straightens, walking over to his desk to gather the folders that were retrieved from the hallway earlier.
“You made quite the entrance,” he says mildly.
Heat floods my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t..” I stop, frustrated, shaking my head. “I just smelled something and the next minute I was sitting on the floor.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, the ghost of a smile appearing for half a second before fading. “Yes. That part was… noticeable.”
I wince. “I’m sorry.”
“For the record,” he says, turning back to face me, “no one here thinks you did anything wrong.”
I glance up at him, surprised. “It didn’t look that way.”
His expression sharpens, not at me, but at the memory. “Bethany has a talent for making situations worse than they need to be.”
So that’s her name.
Bethany.
The name settles bitterly on my tongue.
“She’s… with him,” I say quietly. It’s not a question.
Carl exhales through his nose. “She’s been trying to be for a long time.”
My chest tightens painfully. “But he let her..”
“He didn’t,” Carl cuts in, gentle but firm. “Not in the way you think.”
I look at him fully now, confusion colliding with the ache hollowing me out. “Then why?”
Carl studies me for a long moment. Then, as if deciding something, he pulls a chair across from me and sits.
“Reza,” he says, voice low and serious. “What happened out there wasn’t small. And it wasn’t something Aaron was prepared for.”
My breath catches at the sound of his name.
“Aaron,” Carl continues, “is the Alpha of the Blue Moon Pack. Every move he makes is watched. Every reaction weighed. Finding a mate, especially unexpectedly, in public, isn’t something he can afford to handle impulsively.”
Impulsively.
The word cuts deeper than I expect.
“So walking away was… what?” I ask, my voice thin. “The responsible choice?”
Carl’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t answer immediately. “It was the only choice he thought he had in that moment.”
Starla lets out a low, wounded whine.
-He rejected us, she insists. He chose another.
“No,” Carl says quietly, as if he can hear her too. “He didn’t.”
My heart stutters. “Then what did he do?”
Carl meets my gaze, steady and unflinching. “He bought himself time.”
The room seems to shrink around us.
Time.
“For what?” I whisper.
Carl leans back slightly, exhaling. “To think. To protect you. To protect the pack. To protect her.”
Her.
Bethany.
The ache in my chest sharpens, twisting into something more painful than before.
“I didn’t even know,” I say weakly. “I didn’t plan this. I wasn’t looking for him. I just..”
“I know,” Carl interrupts softly. “If you’d planned it, it would’ve gone very differently.”
That almost earns a laugh from me, thin and hysterical, but it dies somewhere between my ribs and my throat.
Silence settles between us again, heavier now.
After a moment, Carl stands. “You should go home,” he says. “Rest. Today was… a lot.”
I nod slowly, numb. “The paperwork..”
“Can wait,” he says firmly. “I’ll handle it.”
I blink at him. “You don’t have to..”
“I know,” he replies. “But I will.”
He opens the door for me, giving me space to stand on my own. My legs feel steadier now, though my heart still feels like it’s splintering.
As I pass him, he pauses.
“One more thing,” he says quietly.
I look up.
“You’re safe here,” Carl says. “No matter what happens next.”
I swallow hard. “What does happen next?”
His gaze flicks briefly down the hallway, toward where Aaron disappeared earlier.
“That,” he says slowly, “depends on how brave our Alpha decides to be.”
- Writer
