The Royal Alpha

Chapter 12: Kidnapped?! [Part 1]

"Your performance has improved noticeably since your arrival," Elder Amaruq says, his gaze moving across the line of trainees. "This is encouraging. Consistency matters more than raw talent. Maintain this trajectory, and you will find your progress far smoother than you expect. Good luck."

With that, he turns and leaves the examination hall, the other elders following shortly after. A few apprentices remain behind, answering questions and outlining next month's schedule.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

The exam hadn't been easy—but it had been fair. For the first time since arriving here, I hadn't felt like I was drowning.

Fenris is still in the room.

I can feel his presence without looking—steady, composed, impossible to ignore. Occasionally, my awareness brushes against his, and every time it does, I look away too quickly, my heart tightening with something dangerously close to guilt.

It has been a week since the night in the forest.

A week since my wolf leaned into his.

A week since everything I believed about myself fractured quietly, without spectacle.

I haven't spoken to him since.

Not because he's avoided me—he hasn't—but because I don't know how to face him without revealing too much. I rejected him once, out loud, with conviction. Now I know that conviction was fear wearing confidence like armor.

But how do I explain that without sounding like a girl who only turned back because she was lonely?

Because part of me is lonely.

And that truth terrifies me.

"Sir," Alexandria's voice cuts through my thoughts, sweet to the point of nausea. "Your guidance truly helped me today. I wouldn't have managed without your advice."

I turn just in time to see her standing far too close to Fenris, chin tipped upward, lashes lowered in practiced admiration.

Fenris doesn't flinch.

"You did the work," he replies evenly. "That's what matters. Focus on precision during combat drills. Awareness without control is wasted potential."

With that, he steps past her and walks away, not sparing her another glance.

Alexandria's smile slips.

I almost smile too.

"Relax, kotyonok," Fenris says quietly as he passes me, not slowing. "I don't concern myself with people who mistake attention for substance."

I freeze.

I didn't mean to say that aloud.

Heat rushes to my face, and when I look up, he's already a few steps ahead—pausing, just long enough to tilt his head slightly.

A silent invitation.

I don't follow.

Not immediately.

My feet feel rooted, my chest tight. I'm not ready—not to accept him, not to reject him, not to exist somewhere between those two truths.

What if he thinks I'm coming to him only because Aztec moved on?

What if he believes I'm settling?

I can't let him think that.

"I won't hurt you," Fenris says calmly, misunderstanding my hesitation. He turns, meeting my eyes directly now. "And I won't corner you. I just want to talk."