The Alpha’s Lie

As the patrol arrived, the snow crunched under their boots. The cavern's mouth was illuminated by flickering light from the torches they carried, giving the entire area a sinister, golden glow. The air still smelled strongly of blood.

With one hand on the hilt of a stolen blade and the other tied possessively around Elaria's wrist chains, Draven stood still in the center of it all, his bare chest smeared with drying crimson.

With her eyes downcast and her heart pounding like a drum beneath her skin, she knelt at his feet.

This was the game now.

Prisoner. Captive. Enemy.

Even though his touch on the chain was gentle. Even though she could still feel the heat of his mouth on hers from moments ago. Even though the bond between them vibrated like a live wire.

The Kaelith wolves spread out in a semicircle, weapons drawn, eyes darting between the carnage of rogue corpses and their Alpha.

Draven's second in command, Weyric, was in the front of the group. A slender man with a stone-carved face, keen blue eyes, and graying hair.

He glanced at the scene, taking it all in.

“Alpha.”

Draven didn’t move. “Weyric.”

“You vanished for two nights. We tracked your scent through the valley—then found this.” He motioned toward the rogue corpses, and then toward Elaria. “You’ve been busy.”

“I was ambushed,” Draven replied coolly. “By those creatures. They weren’t random. Someone sent them.”

Weyric’s eyes narrowed. “And the girl?”

Elaria stayed silent, lowering her head further.

“She’s from Veyne,” Draven said, the words cutting like glass. “The healer. Beta’s daughter.”

“Enemy territory.”

“Captured.”

Weyric looked from Draven to Elaria and back again. “Convenient.”

“She’s valuable,” Draven said. “Knows herbs, poisons. Could be useful.”

“Or dangerous.”

“I’ll decide which.”

There was a noticeable tension between the two men. Elaria didn't miss the flicker of doubt in Weyric's eyes or the way his hand lingered too near his weapon.

He doesn’t trust Draven.

And worse—he suspects something.

“I’m taking her back to the fortress,” Draven declared. “Secure her in the lower level. No visitors. No questions.”

Weyric bowed his head stiffly. “As you command, Alpha.”

But there was no obedience in his tone. Only calculation.

Draven took hold of Elaria's shackles as the patrol turned to depart. “Move.”

Slowly, she stood with her heart in her throat and her head still lowered.

They strolled in the snow together. In silence. In shadow. With too many eyes on them.

But beneath it all, Elaria felt the briefest squeeze of her wrist—Draven’s way of telling her he was still with her.

That this was all part of the act.

Even if it was killing him.

The Fortress

Stone chiseled into ragged walls and towers, the Kaelith stronghold rose from the edge of the cliff like a beast's teeth, looming like a scar in the mountainside. With the gates creaking open, a chilly wind howled through the courtyard.

Elaria had never seen it up close. Only heard the stories.

Cold.

Cruel.

Unforgiving.

They marched through guard-lined hallways until they finally arrived at the Alpha's wing, a huge vaulted room filled with silver fire pits and black stone.

Draven shut the heavy door behind them.

The moment it slammed, silence returned.

And then—

He dropped the chains.

They clattered to the ground like a broken promise.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

Elaria turned to face him. “You sold me out.”

His jaw clenched. “I protected you.”

“Is that what this is?” Her voice rose. “Because it feels a hell of a lot like being owned.”

His hands fisted at his sides. “Do you think I liked putting a collar on you in front of my pack? Do you think I didn’t want to rip Weyric’s throat out when he looked at you like you were a threat?”

"So why did you not?”

"Because I'm not sure who I can trust!" he bellowed.

The stone walls reflected the sound.

Silence fell again.

Draven’s breath was ragged. He turned away from her, facing the fire.

“There’s something happening in this pack. Something dark. I didn’t just lose those memories by accident.”

“You think someone tampered with you.”

He nodded. “I’m not ruling out my own inner circle.”

“And you think I’m safer here,” she said bitterly. “In chains.”

“No.” His voice cracked. “I think you’re safer close to me.”

Her breath caught.

For the first time, she noticed the weakness behind his might when he turned back to her. The doubt. The fear. The man she remembered.

“Something inside me remembers you, Elaria,” he whispered. “And it’s louder than the lies they fed me.”

She stepped closer. “Then let it speak.”

Their eyes locked.

However, a knock on the door interrupted them before they could continue.

Draven stiffened. “Stay silent.”

He took two steps across the room and opened it slightly.

Weyric stood outside.

“Forgive the interruption,” the Beta said smoothly. “But the Elders wish to speak with you. Now.”

“I’ll come when I’m ready.”

“They insist.”

Draven’s knuckles whitened. “Very well.”

He closed the door, then turned to Elaria.

“They’ll want proof you’re secured.”

She lifted her chin. “Then give them a show.”

His lips parted, a breath caught halfway between surprise and awe.

And then—

He went across the room, picked up a length of heavy chain, and wrapped it loosely around one of the columns of stone support. It was painless. It wasn’t even locked. But it looked real enough.

“Don’t speak to anyone,” he warned. “And don’t trust anyone but me.”

“I don’t even know if I can trust you.”

He froze. “Do you want to run?”

“No,” she said. “But I want to know if you’ll run when the truth comes for us.”

His eyes darkened. “I won’t run.”

And with that, he left.

The door slammed shut behind him.

Hours Later – In the Shadows

Elaria dozed by the fire, her body aching from the cold. The chains clinked softly every time she shifted.

But it wasn’t until deep night that the door creaked again.

She jolted upright.

A figure stepped through—not Draven.

But Weyric.

And he wasn’t alone.

Behind him stood a pale, robed Elder with eyes like silver coins—and a woman Elaria didn’t recognize.

“You,” Weyric said coldly. “Are going to answer a few questions.”

Elaria stood slowly, every muscle tensing.

The Elder stepped forward. “Do you know why you’re here, girl?”

“I was captured,” she said evenly.

“Yes. But how you were captured… and why Draven refuses to let anyone else near you… that’s where our curiosity lies.”

The woman stepped forward. She was beautiful. Regal. And entirely unfamiliar.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” she purred. “I am Athissa. His betrothed.”

Elaria’s blood ran cold.

Betrothed?

She couldn't tell if the anger in the other woman's eyes or the word stung more.

Weyric smiled thinly.

“Now let’s see just how much our Alpha is hiding.”