Chapter 3: Taken by the Enemy Alpha
719 Words
Darkness wrapped around Nyra like a heavy veil.
For a long time, she didn’t move.
Didn’t think.
Didn’t feel.
It was easier that way—floating in the quiet emptiness where the pain couldn’t reach her.
But slowly…
Something pulled her back.
Not gently.
Not kindly.
But insistently.
Like a force that refused to let her disappear.
Her breathing returned first—uneven and shallow. Then came the dull ache in her chest, still lingering from the broken mate bond.
Even shattered… it refused to fade completely.
Nyra’s brows furrowed slightly as her consciousness returned in fragments.
The scent around her was wrong.
Not the forest.
Not her pack.
This was something darker.
Richer.
Filled with unfamiliar wolves.
Her eyes snapped open.
She sat up abruptly, her body tensing as instinct took over.
This wasn’t her territory.
The room was dimly lit, built from dark stone and aged wood, with shadows lingering in every corner. The air felt heavier here, like it carried secrets.
Danger.
Nyra’s heart began to race.
“Relax.”
The voice came from the shadows.
Deep.
Smooth.
And dangerous.
Nyra turned sharply toward the sound.
A man stepped forward slowly, emerging from the dim light as if he had always been there, simply waiting for her to notice.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
His presence alone filled the room in a way that made her instincts flare.
Not fear.
Something more complicated.
Something that made her alert.
Ready.
“Who are you?” Nyra demanded, pushing herself off the bed despite the weakness in her limbs.
The man’s lips curved slightly, not quite a smile.
“Ronan Black.”
The name hit her instantly.
Her breath caught.
Everyone knew that name.
A rogue Alpha.
Feared. Unpredictable. Dangerous.
“What am I doing here?” she asked, her voice tightening.
Ronan studied her for a long moment, his gaze sharp and unfiltered, as if he were looking beyond her surface—into something deeper.
“I brought you here,” he said simply.
Nyra’s eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he began to circle her slowly, his steps measured, deliberate.
Predatory.
Nyra held her ground, even as every instinct inside her told her to be cautious.
“You’re not what you appear to be,” he said at last.
Her chest tightened.
“I’m exactly what you think I am,” she replied.
“Weak?” he asked softly.
The word struck—but not the way it used to.
Nyra’s jaw tightened.
“No.”
Ronan stopped in front of her.
Close enough that she could feel the heat of his presence.
“Good,” he murmured.
“Because weak things don’t survive what you did last night.”
Nyra froze.
“You saw it?” she asked quietly.
“I felt it,” he corrected.
Silence fell between them.
The memory rushed back—the energy, the voice, the fear in everyone’s eyes.
Nyra’s fingers curled slightly.
“I don’t know what that was,” she admitted.
Ronan’s gaze darkened.
“I think you do,” he said.
Nyra shook her head.
“No.”
But even as she said it—
She remembered the voice.
You were never weak.
Her breathing became uneven.
“That wasn’t me,” she whispered.
Ronan stepped closer.
“It is you,” he said. “You’re just not used to it yet.”
Nyra looked up at him.
“Then tell me what I am.”
For a moment—
Ronan didn’t answer.
And that hesitation told her everything.
“You don’t know either,” she said.
A faint smirk returned to his lips.
“Oh, I have an idea.”
“Then say it.”
Ronan leaned slightly closer, his voice lowering.
“Not here,” he said. “Not yet.”
Nyra frowned.
“Why?”
“Because once you understand what you are,” he said quietly, “everything changes.”
Her heart pounded.
Before she could respond—
A low growl echoed outside the room.
Nyra stiffened instantly.
“What was that?”
Ronan’s expression sharpened.
His attention shifted toward the door.
“They found you faster than I expected,” he murmured.
Nyra’s chest tightened.
“Who?”
Ronan looked back at her.
His eyes dark.
Focused.
“Your past.”
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