The Alpha King

Chapter 2

Tessa's P.O.V.



The car winds up the long mountain road, and through the fog, I catch my first glimpse of it - the King's castle.

It looms over the forest like a sentinel, dark glass and polished steel catching the moonlight in sharp, fleeting glimmers. Spires stretch into the clouds, jagged and untamed, while soft, shadowy lights trace the gates, flickering as if aware of every movement in the cold night air. A quiet hum vibrates through the walls, hinting at the power contained within.

I shiver. It wasn't fear exactly - it was awe. The kind that pressed on your lungs and made it hard to breathe.

When the car stops, King Hadley steps out first. He doesn't wait for anyone to open his door.

Power rolls off him in calm, steady waves. Even the guards standing watch, call to attention when they catch sight of him.

Then he turns towards me.

"Come," he says, his voice low but firm - a tone that didn't need to raise to command obedience.

I hurry out, the chill air biting at my skin. My head stays bowed, eyes focused on the gravel beneath my feet.

But even then, I could feel him watching me.

Inside, the castle is warm, the scent of cedar and smoke heavy in the air. Shadows stretch across the marble floors, broken only by the soft glow of the lights. The walls were lined with paintings - kings and queens with proud eyes and impeccable posture.

I wonder if one day, my face would hang beside theirs.

The thought made my stomach twist.

"This way," the King says, his stride long and sure. I had to almost jog to keep up.

We came to the double doors, our shadows stretching long across the floor. He turns, his gaze heavy and unyielding. "You will meet my daughter. She's direct. Don't let that fool you into thinking she's in control."

His voice holds a note of warning beneath the composure.

When the doors open, a sharp laugh echoes through the room.

A girl - maybe fourteen, fifteen - sat curled up sideways in a velvet chair, legs draped over one arm, a book upside down in her lap. Her black hair gleams under the lights, a tangle of waves around a face far too clever for her age.

"Father," she says without looking up, "did you bring another victim?"

The guards tense. My breathe halts.

The King's reply comes out smooth as smoke. "Watch your tone, Riley."

"I was just asking," she says sweetly, finally glancing up. Her blue eyes - the exact shade of his - raked over me with practiced disinterest. "She's small. Looks skittish. This one might cry faster than the last."

Heat crawls up my neck. I drop my gaze immediately, murmuring, "It's an honor to meet you, Princess."

"Oh, don't call me that," she snorts harshly, closing the book with a snap. "Only weaklings and old men do. You can just call me Riley."

"Riley," I repeat back softly.

Her smirk widens. "You sound like you'd apologize for breathing."

My lips part, but no words come out. I didn't know how to respond - and apparently, I didn't need to.

The King's voice cuts through the air, sharp and deep. "Enough."

The tone - not loud, but weighted - made the room still. Even Riley's smirk falters.

"Behave," he continues. "Miss White will be living with us from now on."

Riley rolls her eyes. "Until she runs away screaming, sure."

The King turns toward her slowly, and the temperature in the room seems to drop. He doesn't snarl, doesn't even raise his voice. He doesn't need to- he's low, deep and commanding.

"Stand up."

Riley hesitates, but the command is unmistakable. She rises, chin tilted high, defiant even as her pulse flutters visibly in her throat.

"Apologize," he says simply.

Her lips press together harshly. A full five seconds pass before she mutters, "Sorry."

"Look at her when you say it."

Riley's jaw tightens. Then, begrudgingly, her gaze meets mine. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

I force a small, nervous smile. "It's all right, Princess- I mean, Riley."

King Hadley's head tilts slightly, his eyes flicking between us. Then, just like that, the tension breaks.

"Good," he says, his tone softening. "That's enough for tonight."

He glances at me, and something about the way his eyes linger make my knees weak. "Riley will show you to your room."

Riley groans. "Seriously?"

"Yes," he says, voice calm but carrying that unspoken finality that made refusing impossible.

She huffs loudly and brushes past me, muttering something about being "surrounded by complete idiots."

I follow her through the halls in silence, the echo of our footsteps bouncing off stone. The corridor seems endless, lined with arched windows overlooking the forest.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Riley asks after a minute of sharp and eerie silence.

"I... I'm still processing, getting used to the idea of everything," I admit.

She glances at me over her shoulder. "Used to being kidnapped?"

My cheeks warm. "Your father didn't-."

"Oh, relax," she interrupts, grinning. "I'm joking. Sort of."

I didn't know if I should laugh or not, so I stay silent.

When we reach the guest wing, she stops at a large oak door. "This one's yours. It's better than mine, so don't get too comfortable. He's trying to bribe you."

"Bribe me?" I blink.

"To like him," she says bluntly. "Everyone does, eventually. He's good at pretending to be nice. Makes you forget he's the one always in control."

Before I could reply, she adds, "You'll see. Anyway, welcome to the cage," and disappears down the hallway.

I step into the room slowly.

It's breathtaking - pale walls, soft light flickers from a small fireplace, a window overlooking the forest. A warmth I hadn't felt in years seeps into my bones.

I didn't have long to take it in before a soft knock rings through the air.

"Come in," I answer swiftly, startling at the loud creaking of the door already opening.

King Hadley steps inside, his presence instantly filling the room. His dark hair was slightly tousled now, his sleeves rolled up. He looked every bit the monarch - confident, composed, entirely aware of the power he carried.

"I trust my daughter didn't bite?"

"Not hard," I say quietly before I could stop myself.

His mouth curves - not quite a smile, but close. "You handled her well."

"I wasn't sure what to say."

"Sometimes silence says more," he replies, his gaze lingering on me just long enough to make my stomach twist.

He moves toward the fireplace, his attention catching on something atop the mantel. I follow his line of sight - a framed photograph.

A woman with long, dark hair and bright green eyes smiles back, cradling a baby in her arms.

"She's beautiful," I whisper.

His expression softens, the hard lines of his face easing. "Her name was Natalie."

"Your mate?" I ask quietly.

He nods firmly. "She died giving birth to Riley. The night she left us, the moon burned red."

He pauses, eyes distant for a moment. "She was strong. Stubborn. The kind of woman who faced danger head-on. Even though I was always in disagreement.

I look at the picture again. There was warmth in it - the kind that made your chest ache.

"I can see that," I murmur. "She seems... kind."

He turns his gaze back to me, studying my face with unnerving calm. "You remind me of her. Not in looks, but in the way you hold yourself. Smart, and careful but steady.

My breathing catches. I didn't know what to say, so I just lower my head slightly. "Thank you, my King."

He steps closer, the air between us shifting - not threatening, but commanding. The faint scent of pine and leather clings heavily to him.

"You don't need to fear me, Tessa," he says, his tone low. "But you will obey me. In every way."

My pulse quickens. "Yes, my King."

His smile - slow, confident - sends a strange flutter through my chest. "Good girl."

He turns, heading for the door. "Rest. Tomorrow begins a new life for you."

When he leaves, the room feels too big, too quiet. I turn back to Natalie's photo, tracing her face with my eyes.

I didn't envy her. I admired her.

And as the fire crackled low, I whisper to the empty air, "I'll take care of them - both of them. I promise. Just promise to take care of mine."

Outside, the moonlight spills through the window, and for the first time in years, my wolf didn't cry. She was listening.