The Alpha King

Chapter 4

Tessa's P.O.V.



The night air hits me the moment I step outside, sharp and clean, filling my lungs with a mix of relief and something heavier I can't name. I need it. I need the motion, the escape from the tension Riley left coiling in my chest. My wolf stirs under my skin, restless, impatient, craving something I haven't felt in years.

I tilt my head toward the stars, letting the dark stretch around me, and I feel the hollow ache settle in my chest. It isn't raw pain, exactly. It's quieter, subtle, a pull of memory that whispers of something lost. I can't reach it anymore, not really, and still... I miss it.

"You coming?"

I turn to see Hadley leaning against the tree, still and commanding, dark eyes catching the moonlight. I nod, and my pulse hitches. He radiates power and control, and I feel it even before I see it fully. Even now, standing still, he makes the air feel tighter, heavier, as if it bends toward him.

I shift, letting my wolf take over, and I tear through the trees, silver and white fur catching the moonlight. My heart pounds, my lungs burn, and the wind rips past me in a way that makes me feel alive. I glance over to see Hadley moving like a shadow behind me, ash-gray fur, black markings around his eye and paws, strong and perfect. I feel small, yes, but alive in a way I haven't been for years.

We run in silence. I feel the forest air swirling around me, smell the damp earth and pine, the taste of the wind. My wolf pushes me forward, hungry, wanting to feel the connection we once shared. I let the memory brush my mind, fleeting and soft, a whisper of warmth I haven't known since my mate died. It stirs in me quietly, almost shyly, like it's testing the edges of my grief.

I glance at Hadley. He doesn't speak. He doesn't need to. His presence is enough - dangerous, magnetic, and calm. I feel it pressing against me, pulling at something I didn't know I could still feel. His eyes flick toward mine briefly, and something twists in my chest. I force myself to look away.

When we finally slow, I shift back to human form, panting, shaking, and lean against a tree. My wolf settles, but the ache in my chest doesn't fade. It lingers, quiet, persistent, a reminder of what I lost and the connection I've been craving without knowing it.

Ten minutes later, I see him. Hadley steps from the shadows, calm and composed, exuding that quiet, dangerous charm that makes my pulse jump. I feel small, but something else stirs - curiosity, tension, an awareness of him I can't quite name.

I exhale. "I... just need a moment." My voice is low, breathless.

He tilts his head, lips twitching in that faint smirk that always catches me off guard. "Take your time," he says, voice low, almost intimate.

I slip back into the castle, quiet, careful. The corridors feel too large, too empty, as if they are holding their breath with me. I step into the guest room.

Chaos.

The bed is tossed, my belongings and papers scattered. She sits in the middle of it, small and furious, tears streaking her cheeks.

I stop, anger flaring quietly, my hands clenching. "Why?" I ask softly but firmly.

She sniffles and looks up at me. "I don't want you, I want my father."

I cross my arms, jaw tight, keeping my voice calm. "That doesn't give you the right to destroy the room."

Her smirk twists cruelly. "Like you care. You're just here so my father has someone to... use."

Something inside me tightens. "Get out. Tomorrow, you clean this up."

"I won't," she sneers, rolling her eyes.

"You will. Now leave," I say. My gaze flicks to the picture of my mother near the fire. "Do not touch that."

Her smirk falters. "Why? Don't want me to ruin your perfect little life? Bet your family never fought. Bet they told you they loved you every night. Well... f**k you."

Before I can stop her, she throws the picture into the fire. I snap, grabbing it out, heat biting and licking up my palms. My wolf growls low, protective and tense. The photograph smolders in my hands. My chest tightens, hollow, subtle, almost unbearable.

"I... that was the only one I had," I whisper, voice breaking.

The door opens. Hadley steps in. He's calm. Controlled. Dangerous. His eyes land on me, the charred photo, my blistered hands. "Riley... go to your room," he growls, voice low, commanding.

"I didn't know," she mutters, looking small and uncertain.

His gaze flicks between us, and then he reacts.

Kneeling down to me, he's careful, deliberate in his steps as he leads me into the bathroom, and soothes my hands in cold water, his sharp and strong fingers gentle as they apply the ointment to my already blistering skin. The bottle was found tucked neatly and conveniently in the shelf behind the bathroom mirror. I shiver - half from the pain, half from him, from the heat that radiates from him in waves even if he isn't touching me directly.

"Your wolf will heal it overnight," he murmurs, voice soft but authoritative. My chest twists in a quiet, almost forgotten ache. Something stirs in me, subtle, patient, reminding me of the connection I once lost but could've had.

I nod, words failing me. He steps back, just far enough to give me space, but the pull of him lingers.

"Sleep," I murmur more to myself, trying to comfort the ache in my chest.

The bed shifts. He's beside me. I feel the heat of him, the steady presence, the magnetic calm.

"You handled Riley well today," he says, voice low, quiet, intimate. "Thank you."

I press my face into the pillow, letting exhaustion, subtle longing, and the tension of him beside me carry me into sleep. Even in grief, even with anger simmering beneath my skin, the pull of him stays - quiet, magnetic, undeniable, lingering long after he had left the room.