The Royal Alpha

Chapter 13: Kidnapped?! [Part 2]

I am an idiot.

For the first time since I met her, Sierra had finally stopped looking at me as if I were something dangerous—something volatile she needed to guard herself against. Her eyes, usually sharp with defiance or shuttered with fear, had lingered on me today. Just for a second. Not long enough to be obvious. Not long enough for anyone else to notice.

But I did.

There had been no anger in that look.
No rejection.
Just uncertainty... and thought.

She was beginning to understand.

And what did I do?

I walked away.

I hid behind my promise like a coward cloaking himself in honor, silencing every instinct screaming at me to stay. To say something—anything—to ease the storm inside her. To reassure her without pressing, without claiming, without demanding.

Instead, I left her alone with questions she wasn't ready to answer.

Now her face keeps replaying in my mind—tight with restraint, emotions barely contained, her gaze darting away every time our eyes met, as if looking at me required more strength than she could spare.

I told myself that distance was respect.
That restraint was maturity.
That keeping my hands to myself and my mouth shut made me better than the wolves who force fate into submission.

But watching her retreat into herself today...

That wasn't respect.

That was abandonment.

So here I stand—half-hidden near the examination hall, senses stretched outward, pretending to observe the trainees while my attention remains locked on a single she-wolf.

Alexandria.

That one is trouble stitched together with jealousy and ambition. Wolves like her don't need proof to feel threatened—they sense it. She knows something has shifted between Sierra and me, even if she can't name it. And insecure wolves always strike where it hurts most.

Aztec's presence snaps my focus sharp.

I straighten instinctively, jaw tightening before I can stop myself. I never chose him as an enemy—but fate has a way of drawing lines whether you consent to them or not. He moves with the confidence of someone who has never questioned his place in the world, never feared losing it.

I listen.

Alexandria's voice cuts through the air, sharp and venomous.

"...power-hungry," she sneers. "Some she-wolves confuse ambition for affection."

My wolf growls low in my chest, the sound barely restrained.

Power-hungry.

If she had any idea what Sierra has endured—how often she shrinks herself to avoid being misunderstood, how carefully she carries her hopes so they don't inconvenience anyone else—I would—

I cut the thought off.

I wait for Sierra to respond.

She doesn't.

Instead, she turns.

Her shoulders are rigid. Her steps too fast, too deliberate. Her scent spikes—hurt, humiliation, grief tangling together so sharply it makes my chest ache.

And then she's gone.

Running straight out of the building.

Toward the woods.