Cracks in the Alpha’s Mask
1035 Words
Chapter 5
Chapter 5 – Cracks in the Alpha’s Mask
POV: Ryan
The air in the council chamber was thick with the scent of smoke and cedar. The firelight flickered, casting shadows on the walls and highlighting the tense faces of my pack elders, all of them fixed on me, waiting for the decision they expected.
Marcus stood beside me, arms crossed and jaw clenched. He was thirsting for blood. They all were.
One elder leaned in, his voice gravelly. "She’s a rogue. There’s no discussion here. Execute her before she poisons the pack."
A murmur of agreement spread through the room. Another elder, sharper and more forceful, added, "If news gets out that you let her live, others will think we've become soft. That we've lost our grip on the law."
Law. It was always about the law. Kill rogues on sight. No exceptions. It was a rule I had enforced more than anyone, the very foundation of my Alpha title. Now, they were waiting for me to apply it once more.
But I stayed silent, feeling the weight of their expectations hanging over me.
Marcus finally broke the silence. "Alpha. Give the order."
Every eye in the room was fixed on me. My throat tightened, but I managed to get the words out. "She stays alive."
The room erupted in chaos. Voices clashed—anger, disbelief. "Alive?" "What good will that do?" "This is a sign of weakness."
I let them shout until the noise became a jumble. Then, with a single word, I cut through it all. "Enough."
An uneasy silence settled in. Their eyes were still fierce, but none dared to openly defy me. Marcus's gaze lingered on me, filled with questions. I avoided it.
"She remains alive," I repeated, my voice steady, though I felt like I was starting to c***k inside. I didn’t offer an explanation; I couldn’t. The truth was too heavy to share—not yet, maybe not ever.
The council ended with reluctant compliance. They bowed, but there was no trust in their eyes—just doubt. Doubt in me. And that was more dangerous than any rogue.
Once the chamber was empty, I lingered, gripping the edge of the table until my knuckles turned white. The silence was suffocating.
That bond pulsed within me again, low and steady in my chest. A constant reminder I couldn’t shake. The Moon Goddess had tied me to her, to a rogue, as if my vows meant nothing. As if the deaths of my father and brother were just a cruel joke.
I hated her for it. I despised her for mocking me, for planting that weakness where I so desperately needed strength. My father had faltered once, and it cost him his life. The same for my brother. If I made a mistake, it wouldn’t affect just me—it would be my entire pack.
And yet, every time I closed my eyes, I saw those amber eyes burning with defiance. Not pleading. Not afraid. Unbroken, even in chains.
I swore under my breath and left the chamber.
The stairs creaked as I made my way down to the basement. The air chilled around me, and the scent of steel and wolf greeted me before I reached the cell. She was awake, waiting for me.
Amelia.
She stood by the bars, arms crossed, her eyes locking onto mine as soon as I showed up. Her lips twisted into a smirk, sharp and pointed.
"Well," she said, her voice low and mocking, "the king himself returns. Here to gloat? Or just checking to see if your little rogue is still breathing?"
The word "pet" tugged at the bond between us. My wolf bristled, but I kept my voice steady. "Don’t flatter yourself. You’re alive because I allow it."
Her eyes sparked with fire. "How noble. A cold-hearted Alpha sparing a filthy rogue. Should I bow?"
The sarcasm cut deep, but beneath it, I felt the bond heat up, stirring something within me. I hated that it affected me at all. I stepped closer, close enough to see the faint scar on her wrist and the determined lift of her chin.
"You’re alive," I said, my tone harsher than intended, "because you might be useful. Nothing more."
Her laugh was bitter, slicing through the tension. "Useful. That’s the pack’s favorite word. Until the day you decide I’m not useful anymore, and then it’s the cage, the noose, or the knife. I’ve seen it happen before. I’ll watch it happen again."
I held her gaze, neither of us blinking. The tension thickened, the bond thrumming with every word. I wanted to deny it, to crush it, but my chest betrayed me with each breath.
For a moment, I imagined reaching through the bars, gripping her throat, ending this curse right then and there. One movement, one command, and the bond would perish with her.
But my hand stayed at my side.
Then I envisioned something different—being closer, not with violence but with something else entirely. Her breath mingling with mine. Her defiance softening into something else. The thought sickened me.
I turned away abruptly. "You’ll rot in that cell until I decide otherwise."
Her voice followed me, sharp as a blade. "I won’t rot. I’ll escape. I always do."
I clenched my jaw and forced my feet to the stairs. I didn’t dare look back. If I did, I wasn’t sure what I’d see in her eyes—or in my own.
When I reached the main hall, the night air rushed in through an open window. I breathed deeply. The scent hit me hard and wrong.
Smoke. Iron. Oil.
Hunters.
That stench sliced through everything. My wolf stirred, a low growl building in my chest. I recognized that smell from anywhere—silver, guns, death.
They were close. Too close.
I straightened, every muscle tensing, every thought snapping back to my duty. The pack needed me.
The bond tugged at me again, a reminder of the rogue locked away below. I shoved it aside, burying it under my rage.
Hunters had crossed my border. And I would spill their blood before they got a chance to spill mine.
- Writer
