The Alpha Who Couldn’t Love Me

POV: Aria I knew the moment I saw him. Kael stood beneath the canopy of ancient oaks, his broad shoulders backlit by slivers of early morning light. The power rolling off him was like a storm trapped in a man's body. Raw. Commanding. Quiet in the most dangerous way. My breath caught before I could stop it. Every instinct, every thread of magic in my blood, screamed one truth. He was mine. My mate. But when our eyes met across the clearing, he looked through me. Not past me. Through me. Like I didn’t even exist. The hollow ache that followed hit deeper than anything I’d ever imagined. The bond was supposed to draw us together, igniting like fire in our chests. But Kael’s wolf didn’t stir. His expression didn’t change. And just like that, the dream I’d carried for so long began to unravel. The pack had gathered to witness what should have been sacred. Whispers passed between them like falling leaves, their excitement fading into confusion. I stood frozen, clutching the invisible thread I thought would tie us together. But it slipped through my fingers without a sound. Kael turned and walked away. No growl. No spark. No recognition. Only silence. When the crowd finally drifted off, I remained in the clearing, numb. The forest was peaceful now. Birds chirped high above, and light filtered through the trees in golden ribbons. But all I saw was the shadow curling inside me. I had prepared myself for nerves. For intensity. For overwhelming love. I hadn’t prepared for this. The elders had warned me of the curse, though only in half-spoken fragments. It was an old wound in our bloodline, said to silence the mating bond before it could fully awaken. But no one told me it would feel like being erased. That night, I sat alone with ancient scrolls spread around me, desperate for answers. I traced symbols and whispered to the wind, asking the moon to help me understand. Days passed in a haze of reading and searching. The curse, it turned out, was real. Its roots ran deep into our history. Buried within a forgotten manuscript, I found a single line: "To wake what’s been silenced, blood must be given. The wolf first. Then the soul." The words struck something deep inside. I didn’t yet know what they meant, but I understood the warning. If I wanted to break the curse, it would cost me more than I could imagine. Still, I made my choice. When the full moon rose again, I returned to the clearing. Kael was already there. He didn’t speak. Neither did I. But I could feel the tension between us, thick like a storm waiting to break. “I know what you are to me,” I said, voice steady. “And I’m going to make you feel it.” I reached for the bond, summoning every ounce of magic I carried. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. My wolf surged forward with a howl of longing. Then came the pain. It ripped through me like fire. My knees hit the earth as my wolf’s cry echoed inside. I wasn’t sure if I screamed aloud, but I felt her—the part of me that had always been wild and alive—fracture. Kael stood frozen. One hand clutched his chest, and his eyes widened with something almost like recognition. The bond had stirred. I wasn’t imagining it. But the cost was real. The next morning, I woke to silence. My wolf’s voice was barely there, her presence reduced to a flicker behind glass. Still alive, but fractured. Just like me. Kael said nothing. He watched me with a haunted look, as though he felt something too, even if he couldn’t explain it. The pack was restless. Some started to question me. Others whispered that I had brought this darkness with me. I ignored them. I trained harder. Fought harder. Pushed my body until I collapsed in exhaustion, and studied every piece of forbidden lore I could find. Somewhere in that chaos was the key to saving us both. One night, around the fire, I sat beside Kael. He didn’t move, but he didn’t pull away. I placed my hand on his, letting the warmth of the bond speak for me. His fingers twitched. His wolf stirred. Faint, but present. So did mine. We were both broken, but not beyond repair. I would find a way to heal us. I had to. Even if it meant losing more of myself in the process.