The Alpha's weakness
1162 Words
Chapter Four
The Alpha’s Weakness
I didn’t sleep that night.
Not because I couldn’t—but because I wouldn’t allow myself to.
Damon’s scent still clung to me, like wildfire trapped under my skin. I had bathed, scrubbed, changed into clean clothes—but the heat of him, the way his hands had gripped my arms, his breath on my cheek... none of it washed away.
Elira purred in the back of my mind, restless.
“You still want him.”
“No,” I said aloud to the dark ceiling. “I want him to suffer.”
And yet, that wasn’t the full truth. That was the part of me that remembered rejection, humiliation, pain. The part that grew claws and trained until I bled.
But there was another part.
The part that remembered his voice. His eyes. His body. The part that still dreamed of his touch, even now.
I hated that I still burned for him.
---
By dawn, I was already in the courtyard, sword in hand, running drills.
Crimson Fang protocol followed me everywhere—early rise, silent training, physical endurance. It was the only way to silence the chaos in my head.
My blade sliced through the morning air in swift, practiced arcs. Sweat slid down my spine. I focused on control, precision, breath.
Then I felt him.
I didn’t have to turn. Damon’s scent swept through the courtyard like a storm—smoke and earth, heavier than I remembered.
I finished the last strike before slowly lowering the blade and turning.
He stood ten feet away, arms crossed over his chest. His black shirt clung to his chest, soaked from an early run. His eyes were darker today. Hungry.
“You’re up early,” he said, voice low.
“Some of us don’t sleep with guilt on our conscience.”
His jaw flexed.
“I haven’t slept since the day you left,” he said.
I sheathed my sword. “Not my problem.”
He stepped closer. “It is. Because every day since then, I’ve thought about that moment. Every f*****g day. I hear your voice in my head. The way it cracked. The way you looked at me like I’d shattered something sacred.”
“You did,” I said quietly. “And the worst part? You knew it.”
He swallowed hard. “I panicked.”
“You chose cruelty.”
“You were so small. So quiet. I didn’t expect it to be you. I wanted... I wanted someone powerful.”
I took a step forward, lifting my chin. “You got what you wanted. And now that I’ve become powerful, you want me back.”
“No,” he said firmly. “I want you back because I know who you are now.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” I snapped.
His eyes roamed over me—slow, intense, burning.
“I know your scent drives me insane,” he said, voice dropping. “I know your body has haunted me for three years. And I know when you walked into that council room yesterday, I felt my wolf lurch in my chest for the first time since I rejected you.”
I hated the way my pulse raced at his words.
Elira stirred beneath my skin.
“He’s ours.”
“No, he’s not,” I whispered.
Damon took another step forward, and now he was close—too close. His eyes dropped to my lips, then lower. His hand lifted, as if reaching for me, but I stepped back.
“I’m not yours anymore, Damon.”
His expression darkened. “The bond is still there.”
“Then cut it.”
He hesitated.
“You can’t, can you?” I said. “You want me to do it. You want me to release you from the mistake you made. But here’s the thing—I won’t. You rejected me, but you don’t get to move on without consequences.”
He was breathing hard now.
“You’ve changed,” he said.
I leaned in close, my lips near his ear.
“I had to become the kind of woman you regret.”
Then I turned and walked away, leaving him shaking in the middle of the courtyard.
---
That night, I met with Roman through the secure Crimson Fang line. He was still serving as Regent Alpha until their current leader returned from foreign war councils. Roman had become like a brother to me—quiet, precise, but endlessly protective.
He appeared on the screen, face stern.
“How’s the treaty holding?”
“On the surface,” I said. “But Damon... he’s not stable.”
Roman raised a brow. “Emotionally?”
“Both,” I admitted. “He wants to pretend I’m still his mate. He’s... obsessed.”
Roman leaned back. “Good.”
That made me blink. “Good?”
“You’ve rattled him. That’s leverage.”
“I’m not a weapon.”
“No,” Roman said, tone softening. “But you are power. And you can use it however you see fit. Just don’t forget the mission.”
“I haven’t.”
But the moment I ended the call, I leaned back on the bed and exhaled sharply.
I wasn’t sure what scared me more—that Damon still wanted me… or that some part of me wanted him too.
---
The following day, I was summoned to Damon’s study.
I nearly didn’t go.
But curiosity dragged me.
His study was large, dark wood and bookshelves lining every wall. He stood by the window when I entered, arms behind his back, tension rolling off him in waves.
“You wanted something?” I said.
He turned, and there was something wild in his eyes. “Tell me how to fix this.”
“You can’t.”
“I’ll try.”
“You’re three years too late.”
He stepped closer. “Aria, I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re desperate.”
His hand slammed against the wall beside my head, trapping me without touching me. My pulse jumped.
“I hate the way you look at me now,” he growled. “Like I’m nothing.”
I met his stare. “Then maybe now you understand.”
His eyes flicked to my mouth again. Then lower.
“I dream about you,” he admitted. “Every night. And when I wake, my bed is cold and I’m angry because you’re not there. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”
I should have walked away.
Instead, I whispered, “Then why didn’t you choose me?”
Silence.
He leaned in, brushing his lips against my cheek.
“I was afraid,” he whispered.
I turned my head slowly, brushing my lips near his.
“Be afraid again.”
Then I walked out, leaving him breathless.
The Luna he left behind was not here to be reclaimed.
She was here to conquer.
- Writer
