The Royal Alpha

Chapter 18: Misunderstood?!

SIERRA

We sit like that for a long time—long enough that time itself seems to loosen its grip. Fenris doesn't move, and neither do I. His arms remain around me, firm but careful, as though he's afraid that if he tightens them even slightly, I might shatter. My cheek rests against his chest, and beneath my ear his heart beats steadily, grounding me in a way I didn't realize I needed so badly.

The world feels distant here. Safe. Contained.

But the longer I stay, the stronger the currents become.

They no longer feel like gentle sparks or fleeting warmth. They pulse—hot, insistent, alive—curling through my veins and settling low in my stomach. It's overwhelming, frightening in its intensity. I become acutely aware of my own body, of the way I'm pressed against him, of the fact that there is nothing between us but his shirt and my skin.

I'm naked beneath it.

The realization crashes into me with brutal clarity.

Heat floods my face and chest, but it isn't embarrassment alone. It's something far more dangerous—an instinctive need to stay. To press closer. To bury myself into him and let the pull take over completely. My body wants what my mind is terrified to accept.

This isn't comfort anymore.

This is something else.

Something binding.

Panic snaps through me.

I pull back abruptly, retreating against the cushions of the infirmary bed, my heart racing as if I've just escaped something I don't yet understand. The loss of his warmth feels immediate, like stepping out of shelter into cold rain.

I can't look at him.

I'm afraid of what I'll see in his eyes.

I don't want the black. Those dark, predatory depths filled with restrained fury and pain I don't know how to soothe. I want the blue—the deep, oceanic blue that once felt steady and almost gentle. Those eyes pulled me in without demanding anything from me. They made me feel seen, not claimed.

I've never heard of a wolf whose eyes change like this.

The thought unsettles me deeply.

"Uh... th-thank you," I manage, my voice small and uncertain. "For... for comforting me."

The moment the words leave my mouth, regret hits hard.

His face tightens—not in anger, but in something far worse. Disappointment. Hurt. A quiet withdrawal that slices deeper than any raised voice ever could.

He doesn't respond.

He simply stands and moves to the chair nearby, putting space between us so deliberately that it feels like a wall being built brick by brick.

The distance both relieves me and devastates me at the same time.

Before I can gather the courage to say anything else—to explain, to apologize, to beg him not to shut me out—the door opens.

Aztec walks in, Avery close behind him.

My heart stutters.

Without thinking, I turn toward him. He reaches me in a few long strides and pulls me into his arms. The familiarity of his embrace wraps around me instantly, muscle memory taking over before my mind can stop it. His arms feel the same as they always did—strong, protective, known.

For a moment, I let myself sink into it.

It's been weeks since I last stood here. Weeks since I belonged in this space.