The Ruthless Alpha

Scars and secrets

The room felt too warm, the crackling of the fire too loud. Kane’s movements were deliberate as he tugged at the buttons of his shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside. The expanse of his chest was all hard muscle and pale, scarred skin, a testament to battles fought and won. He stood there for a moment, watching me with those piercing silver eyes as if daring me to look away.

I didn’t dare.

I sat perched on the edge of his massive bed, my hands gripping the soft blanket beneath me. My pulse roared in my ears, each beat a frantic warning. When he reached for the belt at his waist, my gaze darted downward, and I felt my cheeks flush.

He wasn’t fully undressed, but the sight of him standing before me in only his pants was somehow worse. There was an intensity in how he moved and how his chest rose and fell as he exhaled deeply.

Kane prowled toward me, his steps slow and deliberate. Each one made the space between us seem smaller, the air heavier. When he reached the bed, he climbed onto it with fluid grace, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. I knew what would come next.

I froze as he loomed over me, his hands braced on either side of my trembling body. He smelled faintly of pine and something darker, something uniquely him. His proximity made my heart race even faster, and I could feel the heat of his skin, so close to mine.

“Lie down,” he commanded, his voice low and rough.

I swallowed hard, obeying without a word. My body felt stiff and awkward as I reclined against the plush pillows, my gaze fixed on the ceiling. I wanted to look anywhere but at him. My fingers clutched the edges of the blanket as if it could somehow shield me from what was coming next.

Kane moved closer, his weight settling above me as he leaned down. He cupped my cheeks with his callused hand, forcing me to meet his silver eyes. They bore into mine, and I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.

“You’re quiet,” he said, his tone sharp. “Is that how this is going to be? You can’t even speak to me?”

“I-I…” My voice came out as a stammer, and I immediately regretted it.

Kane’s brow furrowed, his sharp gaze narrowing on me. “What’s wrong with you?” he demanded. “Are you afraid of me?”

I didn’t answer, but I could feel the trembling of my limbs, the rapid rise and fall of my chest. My silence only seemed to frustrate him further.

“Speak,” he snapped, leaning closer.

“I’m scared,” I blurted out, my voice barely above a whisper.

He froze, his expression shifting from frustration to something I couldn’t quite place. For a long moment, he simply stared at me, his gaze scanning my face as if trying to decipher something.

“Scared?” he repeated, his voice softer now.

I nodded, my throat too tight to form words. How could I not be? He had claimed me, and not spoken one kind word to me since we met. He was ruthless and everyone knew it.

He shifted slightly, his weight pressing down on the bed beside me. “Why?”

I hesitated, my hands clutching the blanket tighter. It was an odd question. Not one I had expected. From how he acted, I would have thought he wanted me to be scared. But how could I explain, that at this precise moment, it wasn't the rumors of his cruelty that scared me? How could I tell him that I’d never been with anyone before? That the thought of intimacy terrified me—not because I didn’t want it, but because I didn’t know how to handle it.

And worse, what would he think when he saw me? When he saw the scars that marred my back, the permanent reminders of my place in the world?

His sharp gaze softened just slightly as if he could sense the depth of my fear. “Have you ever… been with anyone?” he asked quietly.

The question made my face burn with shame. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bring myself to speak. Instead, I shook my head, the small movement feeling like a confession.

Kane cursed under his breath, the harsh sound making me flinch. He shifted, pulling back slightly as he sat up. His hands ran through his dark hair, and he let out a low growl of frustration.

For a long moment, he just sat there, staring at me. His expression was unreadable, a storm of emotions flickering in his silver eyes.

Finally, he let out a heavy exhale and stood, his movements abrupt. He didn’t say a word as he grabbed his discarded shirt and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

I lay there for a long time, my heart still pounding. The tension in my body refused to dissipate, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze lingering on me.

Eventually, exhaustion won out, and I sank into the soft mattress, the scent of pine and darkness surrounding me. It was his scent, and I hated how it made me feel safe.

As sleep began to claim me, I hated myself even more for liking it.