The Alpha King

Chapter 5

Hadley's P.O.V.



A loud crash jolts me awake. My heart kicks once—sharp, instinctive—and I'm on my feet before I'm fully conscious.

I enter Tessa's room and its dark, quiet, except for the sound of soft movement.

That's when I see her.

Tessa.

She's gliding through the shadows, barefoot, eyes half-lidded, her lips moving in whispers I can't make out. For a second, I think she's awake—until I notice the emptiness in her gaze.

"Hell," I mutter under my breath as I flip on the lamp closest to my reach.

She doesn't flinch.

Instead, she kneels by the cold fireplace, hands trembling as she digs through the ashes.

"It has to be here," she murmurs. "It has to be here..."

I stay quiet, watching her fingers sift through the soot like she's searching for something buried. I've seen battlefields with less desperation.

Then—she stops.

Her head tilts, and she turns toward me, nostrils flaring like she's scenting the air.

I freeze.

"Who are you?" she whispers. Her voice is low, sharp, nothing like the shy woman I met earlier. "Why are you watching me?"

I lift my hands, slow and visible. "Tessa—it's me. Hadley."

Her eyes go hard as flint. "Say another word and I'll make sure you regret ever uttering my name."

Her voice left no room to argue. The back of my neck heats, a delicious pull to challenge her, to claim the moment. Desire and curiosity braided into something I couldn't — and didn't want to — resist.

"And who am I speaking to, then?" I ask, stepping closer but keeping my voice calm.

She hesitates, eyes flickering as if she's hearing something I can't. "Aisling," she replies a heartbeat later.

"Aisling." The name settles quietly around us.

That name hits different. It feels old—like it carries weight.

I nod slowly. "I heard you awake, came to check on you. What are you looking for?"

She gasps, sudden and turns sharply back to the fireplace. "The picture... have you seen it?"

"No," I say softly. "Maybe it'll turn up in the morning. You've had a long night."

Aisling studies me, her eyes—Tessa's eyes—still distant, haunted. Then she sighs, nodding once. "Alright. I'll lie down now."

I hesitate, looking around the disheveled room, and the ripped up bed spread, then grab her arm gently. "Come, you can't sleep in here right now."

She shuffles after me as I lead her to my bed and she slips in innocently and unaware folding my blanket around her, her breathing soon turning even and slow.

Sleepwalking.

But that name—Aisling.

Who the hell was that?

Morning comes in a blur of sunlight and exhaustion.

The bed beside me is empty, sheets smoothed. The sound of the shower hums faintly behind the bathroom door.

I yawn, scrub a hand over my face, and change into sweatpants, grabbing the first shirt I see.

When she steps out, towel-drying her hair, my mind goes blank and eerie silent.

Her white T-shirt clings to her like it had been painted on, damp in all the right places, tracing the gentle swell of her chest in a way that made my pulse race. The fabric had gone thin, almost transparent, teasing the edges of what I shouldn't be staring at. Her shorts hang low on her hips, brushing the smooth, sun-kissed skin of her thighs with every subtle shift, and her eyes... still heavy with sleep, soft and hazy, made her look impossibly vulnerable and impossibly tempting at the same time.

She catches me staring and stiffens, cheeks flushing pink, eyes darting away like she's trying not to give me the satisfaction.

I smirk at the way she huffs, eyeing the door in darted glances.

"Where... where do you want me to teach Riley today?" Her voice is softer, hesitant, almost like she's waiting for a command.

I step a little closer, letting the weight of my presence press against her. "Wherever I say," I murmur, low and deliberate, and I see her swallow, that small spark of resistance fading under my gaze.

I smirk, buttoning my shirt with deliberate calm. "There's a room at the end of the hall—used to be my office. There's a desk, a computer. I'll have someone bring in another set for you."

She nods, trying to look anywhere but me, then turns to go.

"Tessa," I call.

"Whose Aisling?"

She stops dead in her tracks, whipping around to face me, slightly startled.

Her expression is unreadable, but there's something fragile in her eyes. "That's... my wolf's name. Only my mother knows that name. Why...How-?"

"You told me last night," I reply quietly. "In your sleep."

Not quite true—but close enough.

She blinks, stunned. "Oh. I must've been dreaming. I don't even remember."

I nod. "Yeah. Probably nothing."

She murmurs a faint goodbye and leaves. My gaze lingers on her as she walks away—long legs, the soft sway in her step, unaware that she's already under my skin.

And I hate that.

Because I don't do soft. Not anymore.

Tessa's POV

The kitchen smells like heaven—bacon, eggs, toast, coffee. The woman at the counter looks up with a bright smile.

"Good morning, Luna. I'm Jules, your cook. You must be starving."

I wave her off quickly. "Please, just Tessa. I'm not your Luna. I'm not here to replace anyone."

Her smile falters for a second before she nods. "Of course, Tessa."

"Can I ask why the house feels so empty?"

She wipes her hands on her apron, tied neatly behind her back "Only the staff and royal family live here."

I nod, taking a seat. "Makes sense."

"Coffee?"

"Yes, please. I might actually kill someone for a cup."

She laughs, just as Hadley walks in.

The shift in the room is immediate. Jules straightens, her tone formal. "Good morning, Alpha. Coffee?"

"Please." His voice is rough, still half-asleep, but steady. He takes a seat across from me, scanning a few papers as he sips.

Riley slips in a few minutes later, pale and quiet, eyes swollen from tears. She sits beside me without uttering a word.

I keep eating, pretending not to notice the tension.

"How'd you sleep?" Hadley asks her gently.

"Fine," she lies.

He frowns but lets it go. "I won't be home till late tonight. Tessa, my mother will come by to help you prepare for the wedding."

The word "wedding" settles around us, heavy and thick in the air.

He looks at me then, gaze steady. "My offer still stands—guide my daughter, marry me, and your father's debt is erased. You'll both be free of it."

I swallow, pushing back the ache that rises in my chest. "Yes, sir."

He studies me for a beat, then nods, rising from his chair. "I'll see you both at nine."

He presses a kiss to Riley's head, then looks at me—just long enough for something unreadable to pass between us.

Then he's gone.

And I'm left sitting there, heart unsteady, trying to pretend I don't feel the pull of the storm that follows him wherever he goes.