The Alpha’s Summons

Colten’s POV

The fire had long since died out in the hearth, but I was still pacing like the damn thing was burning behind my eyes.

I’d scrubbed off the blood from yesterday’s hunt. Changed clothes. I tried to distract myself with reports from the outer territories. Nothing worked. My thoughts kept circling back to the same goddamned place. Or rather, the same scent.

Kieran.

That omega’s scent had wormed its way under my skin and refused to leave.

It wasn’t perfume or any cosmetic trick. It was her, clean rain on pine bark. Faint. Subtle. But maddeningly persistent. Like her. No matter how I tried to shove her to the edges of my mind, she lingered.

And the worst part?

It didn’t smell like an omega.

It smelled like mine.

I stopped pacing and stared out the window, the distant trees blurring into shades of gray and green. The entire world felt wrong since the Ceremony. Off-kilter. The Moon Goddess had made a joke of my position, of my bloodline, pairing me with a powerless, trembling slip of a girl whose only notable trait was her absolute unfitness to be Luna.

I’d rejected her.

Publicly.

Unmistakably.

So why the hell did I still feel her everywhere?

I dragged a hand through my hair, frustration knotting up the back of my neck. I needed answers. Or at the very least, a target for the boiling fury that had been building in my gut all morning.

I was about to head out to the training grounds, maybe spar until I forgot the color of her eyes, when a knock rapped twice on my door.

“Come in,” I barked.

Gareth, one of my younger guards, stepped inside and bowed low. “Alpha, pardon the interruption, but Beta William is down in the southern wing. He’s requested additional staff for the fifth courtyard.”

I narrowed my eyes. “The fifth?”

“Yes, Alpha. He mentioned preparations for tonight’s Summit gathering. Something about accommodating a—uh—presentation.”

My jaw tightened.

The fifth courtyard was reserved for visiting dignitaries or high-ranking introductions. Not lowly servants. And certainly not suspended betas playing god while I wasn’t looking.

“What preparations?” I asked, though I already had a sick feeling clawing at my ribs.

“I’m not sure, sir,” Gareth said carefully. “But... Lady Maria was seen entering the western side with her attendants. They brought grooming kits. And... silks.”

Silks?

My blood ran cold.

“You are dismissed,” I said through clenched teeth.

He bowed and left. I stood perfectly still, heart hammering.

William.

That bastard had defied me.

I turned on my heel and stormed toward the door, fury simmering hot and sharp in my chest. Every step I took echoed like thunder in my ears.

I’d suspended him. Ordered him to stand down until further notice after the Ceremony. And now he was grooming the omega as if she meant something? Dressing her in silks like she belonged beside me?

The nerve. The insubordination.

He was grooming her for the Summit. Without my say. Without even telling me.

And worst of all—

Some twisted, quiet part of me wanted to see her.

I ground my teeth. No. This wasn’t about her. This was about control, loyalty and order.

I wouldn’t tolerate disobedience. Not from William. Not from anyone.

************

The fifth courtyard glistened in the late-afternoon sun, fountains bubbling gently beside blooming rows of moon lilies. Soft harp music floated in from somewhere distant. The entire place looked ceremonial. Regal.

My boots clicked loudly against the stone as I approached, shoulders squared, breathing hard through my nose.

If William had dared go this far, I’d—

Then the doors opened.

And everything else... fell away.

She stepped into the light.

I froze.

No. That wasn’t the same girl. It couldn’t be.

Kieran, if that was still her, stood stiffly between two stylists, the ends of her pale blue gown brushing the tiles like water. Her hair, which last I saw was pulled back in some frayed braid, fell in soft waves down her back, glowing black under the sun. The transformation wasn’t dramatic; it was deliberate. Strategic. She looked like herself, but... more.

Every inch of her screamed unwilling grace.

She wasn’t trying to impress. She was surviving.

And gods help me, it made her even more breathtaking.

Her eyes scanned the space as if looking for escape. She didn’t notice me at first.

But I noticed everything.

The way her hands fidgeted with the seams of her gown. The way she swayed slightly on her heels, unused to the height. The way she held herself as if waiting for someone to tear her down again.

And still—she stood.

A flush crept up her neck as her gaze finally met mine.

And she didn’t flinch.

Not like before.

There was something steely in her now. Something tired, but unwilling to bend. It twisted in my gut in a way I wasn’t ready for.

I’d come to punish my beta. To stop whatever farce this was before it reached the Council’s ears.

But I hadn’t expected this.

Not the way her scent hit me harder now, fresh lavender and smoke, calm and ruin all at once.

Not the way the world stopped spinning for a single second when she looked at me like that.

Not like prey.

Not like a servant.

But like someone who knew I’d broken something.

And had nothing left to lose.

I didn’t speak. I couldn’t.

William emerged from the side arch, arms folded, watching me closely.

“She’s ready for tonight,” he said, like this was some formal transaction.

I didn’t respond.

My eyes were still on her. On the soft tremble of her breath. On the impossible contradiction of strength and fragility standing right in front of me in silk and moonlight.

She looked...

Like the mate I didn’t want.

And the Luna I was terrified she could become.

I stepped forward, ignoring William entirely. I didn’t stop until I was inches away from her.

Close enough to see the faint scratch below her ear. A remnant from the scuffle in the Ceremony.

Close enough to hear the panic in her pulse.

But she didn’t back down.

And I didn’t look away.

My voice came out low, rough. “Who gave you permission to dress like this?”

She blinked. Then whispered, “I didn’t ask for permission.”

That response should’ve infuriated me.

But all it did was make something deep inside me ache.

Because she wasn’t wrong.

None of this was her doing.

I turned sharply to William. “We’ll talk later.”

Then I turned back to her. My tone dropped lower. “Come. Walk with me.”

She hesitated. Then nodded.

And as we stepped out together, the silence between us wasn’t tense, it was loaded. With too many things we hadn’t said. Too many things I wasn’t ready to face.

But I couldn’t look away from her.

Couldn’t ignore what I was feeling. What I was smelling. What I was fighting.

This was no longer just about defiance.

It was about her.

And the terrifying realization that I might be too far gone.

—To be continued.