Alpha King's Broken Mate

Almost Lost Her

ORION

The ruins were behind us, but they did not release us.

Their presence still clung to the forest like mist that refused to burn away, curling through the trees, seeping into the soil beneath our feet. Even as we walked, I could feel the echo of what Briseis had touched, ancient power, stirred from sleep, stretching like something waking after a long dream.

She walked beside me in silence.

Moonlight brushed her pale hair, catching in the gentle curve of her cheek. Her hands were folded in front of her, fingers trembling slightly, as though she were holding herself together. Every few steps she glanced at me, uncertainty and apology written in her eyes.

She expected me to be angry.

That alone made something ache inside my chest.

The wolves of her old pack had taught her fear instead of safety. I could see it in every small movement, every hesitation. Even now, after I had told her I wasn’t angry, she was braced for punishment.

I kept my voice low and steady. “You don’t need to be afraid.”

She swallowed. “I didn’t mean to disobey you.”

“I know.”

Her gaze lifted in surprise.

“I know,” I repeated, more softly. “The ruins called you. That wasn’t choice — that was something deeper.”

Her breath hitched. “They felt… alive.”

They were.

But I did not say that.

We walked on, the path winding through thick roots and shadowed brush. The night should have been calm, but my instincts screamed that something was wrong. The forest was too quiet. No insects. No distant howls. Only the sound of our steps and Briseis’s uneven breathing.

Danger stalked us.

I slowed, subtly shifting my body so she was more fully behind me.

“Stay close,” I murmured.

Her fingers brushed my arm. She nodded.

The first growl rolled through the trees like thunder.

Three shapes emerged from the darkness — thin, scarred, their eyes burning with hunger and madness. Rogues. Their scent hit me, sharp and sour with bloodshed and desperation.

One of them grinned, broken teeth flashing. “The Alpha King himself. Out here with a pretty little omega. How lucky we are.”

Briseis gasped softly.

My claws slid free. “Turn around and walk away. Now.”

They laughed.

The first rogue lunged.

I met him with brutal force, slamming him into the earth, feeling bone give beneath my strike. The second came from my blind side — fast, wild — and raked his claws across my shoulder before I could throw him back.

“Orion!” Briseis cried.

The sound of her fear tore through me.

I fought like something feral, like a king defending not land or crown, but something far more precious. I tore through them with claws and teeth, blood soaking into the soil. But even as I fought, I could feel one of them slipping past me.

Toward her.

“Mine,” he snarled.

Time slowed.

Briseis turned just as he reached for her, terror frozen in her eyes.

“No—!”

I moved faster than thought, catching him by the throat and slamming him into the ground so hard the impact shook the earth. His claws scraped against my arm, his breath hot and foul against my face.

“You will not touch her,” I growled. “Not in this life.”

When it was over, the forest fell silent again.

I turned to Briseis.

She was shaking, pale, her eyes glassy with shock.

The forest did not go quiet right away.

Even after the last rogue fell, the air still trembled, thick with the echo of violence. I stood there, chest heaving, blood warm on my skin, listening for any sign that more would come. Briseis remained frozen where she was, her eyes wide, her breath shallow, as though her body had not yet realized the danger was over.

I turned to her slowly.

“Briseis,” I said gently. “Look at me.”

She did, but her gaze was unfocused, glassy with shock. Her knees trembled, and I knew she was about to fall.

I crossed the distance between us in two strides and caught her before she hit the ground. She was light in my arms, lighter than she should have been, her body trembling like a leaf in a storm.

“It’s over,” I murmured, cradling her against my chest. “You’re safe now.”

Her fingers fisted weakly in my coat, as though she needed something solid to keep her from disappearing. I held her tighter, careful not to hurt her, but unwilling to let go.

That was when Lyra’s small voice reached us from the trees.

“Daddy?”

My heart nearly stopped.

I turned quickly, angling my body so she would not see what lay behind us, the fallen rogues, the blood staining the ground, the violence that no child should ever witness.

She came running toward me, eyes wide and frightened.

I knelt as best I could with Briseis in my arms. “It’s okay, little wolf. You’re safe.”

Lyra looked at Briseis, curled weakly against me, and her face crumpled. “Is she hurt?”

“No,” I said softly. “Just scared.”

Lyra nodded, then reached out, gently touching Briseis’s hair. “It’s okay. Daddy’s here.”

Briseis made a small sound, her eyes fluttering, and Lyra climbed into my free arm, wrapping herself around Briseis as well.

I held them both, one against my chest, one against my shoulder, shielding them from the night behind me.

When I stood, I turned away from the bodies, placing my back between Lyra and the forest floor. I carried Briseis carefully, her head resting against my shoulder, her breath warm against my neck. She was so small, so fragile, and the thought that those rogues had nearly touched her filled me with a quiet, terrifying rage.

Lyra held onto us, her arms wrapped around Briseis like she was afraid she might vanish.

“Are we going home?” she asked sleepily.

“Yes,” I said. “We’re going home.”

As we walked toward the palace lights, I felt the ruins behind us once more, ancient, watchful, patient.

They had called to Briseis.

The rogues had tried to take her.

And now fate had tightened its grip.

But as long as I carried her in my arms…

Nothing would take her from me.