The Ruthless Alpha

The Alpha's wife

The morning sunlight poured into the room as I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. The quiet felt heavy, almost suffocating, as though the walls themselves were holding their breath. I knew Kane would probably ask me to sleep in his room soon. We were married after all. But he hadn't shown up yet, and a part of me was relieved.

When the door finally opened, Kane stepped in, his presence dominating the space. He was dressed impeccably, as always, his black shirt and dark jeans a stark contrast to his silver eyes. There was an air of authority's around him that made me feel small, insignificant.

I stood instinctively, my fingers brushing against the hem of the oversized shirt I still wore. His eyes flicked over me briefly, his expression unreadable.

“You’re awake,” he said flatly, his tone devoid of any warmth.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice quiet.

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. “We need to establish a few things.”

I tensed, unsure of what he meant.

“You’re my wife now,” he said, the words clipped. “Which means you’re part of this pack, whether you like it or not. You can go wherever you want within the packhouse borders, but don’t test my patience by wandering beyond them.”

I blinked at him, surprised by the statement. It felt like a strange sort of freedom, though his cold tone made it clear that it wasn’t a gift.

“Thank you,” I murmured, unsure of what else to say.

He frowned slightly, as if my gratitude annoyed him. “You don’t need to thank me. Just follow the rules.”

There was a pause, the silence stretching between us. His silver eyes bore into mine, unyielding and sharp.

“Do you understand?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

“Yes,” I said quickly, nodding.

He studied me for a moment longer before pushing off the doorframe. “Good. Breakfast will be served soon. Don’t be late.”

And with that, he left, the door clicking shut behind him.

I sank back onto the bed, letting out a shaky breath. Kane’s presence was overwhelming, his cold demeanor making every interaction feel like a battle I couldn’t win.

But at least I had something now—a semblance of freedom.

The packhouse was even larger than I’d realized, a sprawling maze of hallways and rooms that seemed to stretch on forever. As I wandered, I tried to take in my surroundings, memorizing the layout as best I could.

Most of the pack members avoided me, their wary glances making it clear that I was an outsider. A few nodded politely as I passed, but no one spoke to me.

I couldn’t blame them. I was the Alpha’s wife, yet I barely felt like I belonged here.

By the time I returned to the dining hall for breakfast, most of the seats were already filled. Kane sat at the head of the table, his expression as cold and distant as ever. He didn’t acknowledge me as I slipped into a seat near the far end of the table.

The food was delicious, but I barely tasted it. My mind was too preoccupied, turning over Kane’s words from earlier.

You can go wherever you want.

The idea of having free reign within the packhouse was both liberating and overwhelming. For as long as I could remember, my days had been dictated by chores and commands. Cooking, cleaning, scrubbing floors—those were the things that had defined my existence.

But here? I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.

As the meal ended and the pack members began to disperse, I lingered at the table, my thoughts swirling. What did wives of Alphas do? What did I do now?

The idea of idleness felt foreign, uncomfortable.

By midday, I’d found my way to the kitchen, a space bustling with activity. The smell of freshly baked bread and simmering stew filled the air, and the sight of the staff working together made my chest ache with longing.

I watched from the doorway for a moment before stepping inside.

“Do you need any help?” I asked hesitantly, my voice barely loud enough to be heard over the clatter of pots and pans.

The cooks froze, their eyes darting to me with a mix of surprise and confusion.

“Help?” one of them repeated, a young woman with flour-dusted hands.

I nodded. “I’m used to cooking and cleaning… I thought maybe I could help.”

There was a pause, the staff exchanging glances. Finally, the young woman shook her head.

“You’re the Alpha’s wife,” she said, her tone careful. “You don’t need to do any of this.”

“But I want to,” I insisted, feeling a twinge of desperation. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Her brow furrowed, but before she could respond, a low growl echoed from the doorway.

I turned to see Kane standing there, his silver eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice sharp.

“I just…” I faltered, my cheeks flushing. “I wanted to help.”

His gaze swept over the kitchen before returning to me. “You don’t belong here,” he said curtly. “If you’re bored, find something else to occupy your time. This is not your place.”

The cooks busied themselves, avoiding our tense exchange.

I nodded stiffly, my stomach twisting with embarrassment. “I understand.”

Kane’s eyes lingered on me for a moment longer before he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I wandered aimlessly through the packhouse, unsure of where I was supposed to be or what I was supposed to do. Every time I passed a pack member, their eyes lingered on me, their curiosity palpable.

By the time night fell, I was exhausted—not from exertion, but from the emotional toll of trying to fit into a world where I didn’t belong.

Yet again I returned to my own room. Kane hadn't called for me to join him in his. I sank onto the bed, my mind heavy with thoughts.

For the first time in years, I wasn’t a servant. I wasn’t scrubbing floors or cooking meals.

But without those things, I didn’t know who I was.

And the realization was both terrifying and strangely freeing.