My Alpha
The moon sat swollen above the treetops, casting pale silver across the forest, cool and sacred. Its light poured through the canopy in slow, deliberate beams, setting the world aglow like a whispered omen. Liora moved through it with reverence. Her bare feet kissed the soft forest floor, her breath steady, her eyes focused on the clearing ahead.
Tonight wasn't a battle. It was a promise. A vow sealed with flesh.
He was waiting for her.
Gonzalo Kenyon, Alpha of the Bloodfang Pack, stood by the ceremonial altar, back straight, shoulders sharp with power. His presence didn't just command attention, it swallowed it. Even the trees bent slightly toward him, as if fearing to disobey.
Liora slowed. Her heart thudded in her chest, not from fear, but from knowing. From believing.
He turned when he sensed her. His golden eyes, wolf-born and molten met hers.
"You're late."
"You said midnight," she replied, stepping into the clearing.
"I said when the moon peaks. That was five minutes ago."
She smiled faintly. "You never said you cared about time."
He watched her approach. His gaze was unreadable, but his voice softened. "I only care about you."
Liora's chest tightened. She believed him. She wanted to believe him.
"You always say the right things," she said quietly.
"Because they're true."
He reached for her hand. She gave it.
His grip was firm, warm. She remembered how those hands had held her when she was broken, how they had lifted her from bloodied soil after a battle, how they traced her scars like they were sacred.
He leaned in. "The pack sees you differently now. They whisper your name like it means something. That's because of me. Because I brought you to them."
She nodded. "I know."
He kissed her cheek. "You don't have to thank me. Just stay by my side. That's all I want."
Her heart beat too loudly in her chest.
She looked up at him. "You said one day we'd stand here together. As Alpha and Luna."
Gonzalo smiled. "One day."
"When?"
"Soon. When the Elders stop watching my every move. When the pack is stronger. You know how it works."
She nodded slowly. She did know. But she was tired of waiting.
"I've fought for you," she said. "Bled for you."
"And I've kept you alive. That's more than most get."
She looked away.
He tilted her chin back. "Liora, do you doubt me?"
"No," she whispered. "Never."
He leaned in and kissed her, full and hungry. She melted into him because that was what he expected. Because it was what he always demanded.
But somewhere beneath the warmth of his mouth, there was a chill.
Later, she sat alone by the river. Nyssa, the pack's healer, approached in silence.
"He called you again," Nyssa said. "Did he tell you when?"
Liora shook her head. "He said soon."
"He always says soon."
"He means it. He has to."
Nyssa knelt beside her. "You don't need to be Luna to matter."
Liora smiled sadly. "But that was the promise."
"And if it's a lie?"
She didn't answer.
Nyssa sighed. "He's powerful. But that doesn't make him right."
Liora turned to her. "Do you think I'm a fool?"
"No. I think you're in love. That's more dangerous."
In the weeks that followed, Liora's world circled Gonzalo.
He summoned her before hunts, before speeches, before bloodshed. He praised her in front of others, calling her loyal, fierce, and essential.
He told her she was his.
At night, in secret, they met in the old ruins behind the eastern ridge.
His body was fire. His words were a shadow. His grip was worship and warning.
"I don't trust them," he'd whisper.
"Then trust me," she'd answer.
"You're the only one I do."
Liora believed every word, because the alternative would shatter her.
She wore his mark on her neck. His scent. His command.
And still, no Luna ceremony came.
One night, she dared to ask.
"Is it me?"
Gonzalo looked at her with something colder than silence. "It's politics."
"You promised me."
"I said I'd try. I didn't say I'd die for it."
She flinched. He softened instantly.
"Liora. You mean more to me than any ceremony. You know that."
"I want to be seen. With you."
"You're safer in the shadows."
"And you're safer with me silenced."
He stepped back, his voice now low and deadly. "Careful."
She held his gaze. "Or what? You'll banish me?"
He said nothing.
But she saw the answer in his eyes.
She left him that night, not with rage, but with fear. Fear that everything Nyssa said was true.
She returned to her den and stared at the moon.
"Tell me," she whispered. "Am I his, or am I just convenient?"
The moon did not answer. But her wolf stirred in the silence.
Something had shifted.
And she would not ignore it forever.