Chapter 5: The Alpha
930 Words
Luna Callahan POV
The dreams hadn’t stopped.
If anything, they’d grown more intense—more vivid. Wolves, fire, a blood-red moon. Every time I closed my eyes, I was back there, standing in the heart of the flames, feeling eyes on me from every direction. Feeling… known.
But that voice—his voice—kept pulling me back.
Come to me, my mate.
Mate. That word haunted me like a ghost I didn’t understand.
And now, back in Moonshade Hollow, I was pretending to be normal.
I needed herbs. Real ones. Not dried bundles in the corner of my old dorm closet. My professors hadn’t seen me in a week, and I was running out of believable excuses. It was Saturday—the local market would be open, and if I didn’t go now, I’d be stuck with caffeine headaches and no mugwort for the next two weeks.
I told myself this was good.
Normalcy. Structure. People.
I dressed carefully, hiding the mark on my wrist beneath the long sleeves of a knit sweater. It had stopped glowing—for now. But every so often, it itched, like something beneath my skin wanted to claw its way out.
The cold had returned in full. The town square buzzed with locals bundled in scarves, sipping hot cider and weaving between stalls. The air smelled like cinnamon, roasted chestnuts, and pine. Familiar. Safe. Human.
Until I felt it.
That presence.
I froze halfway down the row of booths. My pulse kicked up like a drumbeat behind my ears. It was the same sensation I’d had in the woods before the attack. The same weight in the air. Charged. Electric. Heavy with power I didn’t understand.
And then I saw him.
Across the market.
Golden eyes. Dark hair. Tall. Broad-shouldered.
Him.
The stranger from the forest.
He wasn’t dressed like a woodsman anymore. No torn flannel. No blood. He wore a black coat that brushed his thighs, his hands tucked into the pockets like he couldn’t be bothered by the cold. But it was him. I knew it was.
My breath caught. My heart slammed against my ribs.
He wasn’t just looking at me.
He was watching me.
The crowd blurred. The noise faded. It was just us—two storms colliding in the eye of something ancient and terrible and fated.
I took a step forward. So did he.
My fingers trembled at my sides. The closer I got, the louder everything became—my blood, my heartbeat, the wind whispering through the trees like it knew something.
He didn’t blink.
And then, when we were only a few feet apart, our eyes locked.
And something inside me snapped.
A sudden surge of heat burst between us like lightning hitting the earth. My vision was blurred. The ground trembled. A force pushed me backward like an invisible wave, knocking the air from my lungs.
I hit the cobblestones hard, gasping.
He staggered too—but caught himself just before falling.
People screamed. A vendor’s cart tipped. Apples spilled. Wind howled through the square even though no storm clouds darkened the sky.
I lay there for a moment, dazed. My fingers tingled. My body buzzed like I’d been struck by a live wire. The mark on my wrist burned like fire.
And when I looked up—he was right above me.
Kneeling.
Staring.
Not angry. Not concerned.
Awake.
“I found you,” he whispered.
His voice was velvet and thunder. And terrifyingly familiar.
“You,” I breathed. “You’re real.”
A corner of his mouth twitched, but not into a smile. There was no amusement in his expression—only a kind of stormy recognition.
“I shouldn’t be here,” he said more to himself than to me. “But I couldn’t stay away.”
My pulse skipped. “Who are you?”
Before he could answer, a man in uniform pushed through the stunned crowd.
“Is she alright? What the hell just happened?”
The stranger turned his head slowly. “She’s fine.”
His voice wasn’t raised. But the man flinched like he’d been hit with a cold gust of air.
And then, just like in the forest, the golden-eyed stranger turned—and vanished into the crowd.
Not running. Not panicking.
Just gone.
I sat up slowly, my head spinning.
People were muttering around me—about the blast of energy, the strange wind, the man who showed up out of nowhere and looked like a god. Some tried to help me stand. I waved them off.
I needed air.
I pushed my way through the market, gripping my arm like it was my anchor. My body still buzzed with residual heat. My mark was brighter now—vivid silver, glowing through the fabric.
That man—whoever he was—had triggered something. And not just in me.
In everything.
By the time I reached the edge of town, I was panting.
The forest loomed in front of me. Tall. Cold. Familiar.
But now it doesn’t scare me.
Not as much as what I was becoming.
Not as much as what had just happened between us.
That wasn’t normal. That was magic. Or something even older.
And still, my thoughts returned to his face.
Golden eyes. Rough jaw. Lips that spoke like prophecy.
He knew me.
And I wanted to know him.
I pulled my sleeve up.
The mark had changed again.
The crescent moon was no longer alone.
Now, curling around it like a serpent, was the faint outline of a wolf.
- Writer
