The Golden Wolf

Willow's pov

Alaric didn’t ask before lifting me.

One moment my knees buckled, the next his arm was behind my back and I was off the ground, my body pressed hard against his chest. 

Gasps rippled through the sparring hall, but Alaric didn’t slow, didn’t explain, didn’t look at anyone except straight ahead.

His grip was firm, unyielding in a way that made my breath hitch.

I could still feel Zandro’s scent on my skin. 

Dominance that had soaked into me like a bruise I didn’t know how to explain. 

And when Alaric passed him, I felt the tension. The jealousy snapping through the air like a live wire.

Zandro’s voice followed us. “Careful, Alaric. She didn’t tap out.”

Alaric didn’t turn. His jaw tightened instead. “She doesn’t need to.”

That shut him up.

He carried me through the halls like I weighed nothing, his steps controlled, his arm locked around my waist. 

Every place I touched him felt magnified...his chest rising beneath my cheek, the heat of his skin through his uniform, the subtle flex of muscle when I shifted.

“You should have stopped earlier,” he said quietly.

“I wasn’t losing,” I muttered.

His mouth twitched. “You were bleeding internally.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it. 

My head throbbed. 

My limbs felt wrong...too heavy, too light, like my body hadn’t decided what it was yet.

When we reached my room, Alaric kicked the door shut behind us and set me down on the edge of the bed. 

His hands lingered longer than necessary. Longer than safe.

His eyes darkened.

“Word of advice…Stay away from Zandro,” he said.

“I thought he was your friend.”

His gaze snapped to mine. “He is bad news.”

“So are you,” I shot back.

Silence answered me. 

Alaric exhaled slowly, then crouched in front of me, rolling his sleeves up. “Let me see.”

I swallowed. “You don’t have to...”

“I know.”

And yet he did.

His hands were careful as he checked my ribs, his touch warm, almost reverent. 

Every brush of his fingers sent heat spiraling through my stomach, my wolf stirring under my skin like it recognized him as something dangerous.

Something tempting.

“You don’t submit,” he murmured.

“No.”

A minute of silence. “Zandro will push harder now.”

“I can handle him.”

His thumb pressed just below my collarbone, firm enough to make me gasp. “You shouldn’t have to.”

The tension snapped. His hand stilled. His breath changed. For half a second, I thought he might lean in. Kiss me. 

Instead, he stood.

The expression vanished from his face in a second. 

“I’ll send painkillers,” he said tightly. “Rest.”

Then he left, the door closing with finality that made my chest ache in a way the injury didn’t.

By evening, my body had steadied enough to move.

I headed for the library because I needed quiet...needed space where no one could touch me or look at me like they wanted something from me. 

I was halfway through the marble corridor when a woman stepped into my path.

She was tall, beautiful with golden hair that I envy. Her presence radiated status so loudly it pressed against my skin.

“You’re Amber,” she said, smiling.

“Yes. And you are...”

“Seraphina.” She extended a hand. “Golden Wolf.”

I shook it, ignoring the faint chill that ran up my arm. “I’ve heard of you.”

“Of course you have.” Her smile sharpened. “Everyone has.”

She walked beside me like we were equals, asking where I was from, how I’d found the academy, how I’d survived my first sparring match. 

I answered every question with ease. 

That was my mistake.

Her friends joined us near the stairwell… Alean brunette with sharp eyes and a laugh that felt rehearsed.

“So this is her?” one of the girls asked. “She’s smaller than I expected.”

Seraphina tilted her head. “I thought the same.”

I slowed. “Is there a problem?”

Seraphina’s smile didn’t fade. “Not at all. I just find it interesting how quickly attention shifts.”

Her friend laughed. “Alphas love novelty.”

“Especially broken ones,” Seraphina added lightly.

My mouth opened in shock. “I didn’t ask for their attention,”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Seraphina leaned closer. “That’s the lie they all tell themselves.”

Her friend circled me. “You should learn your place before the drill. They would rip you apart. You are too weak for them.”

My stomach tightened. “What drill?”

Seraphina’s eyes gleamed. “You really don’t know anything. Do you?”

Suddenly, the air shifted. A presence cut through the corridor like a blade.

“Enough.”

Nyx stepped between us. His gaze locked on Seraphina. “Walk away.”

Her smile stiffened. “You don’t control...”

“I do here.”

She scoffed, turning on her heel with her friend trailing behind her.

Nyx turned to me slowly, Violet eyes raking over me with unapologetic interest. “You’re trouble.”

I remembered him. The man who had been watching me in the lecture wing. 

I pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. “So I’ve been told.”

His mouth curved. “As much as I hate to agree with her, she is right…the drill will break you if you’re not careful.”

“Then why warn me?”

He leaned in. Close enough that my pulse spiked. “Because watching you survive would be far more interesting.”

The pull between us was electric. 

Before I could react, he pushed me closer to the wall lightly. He looked at me for a moment and then without thinking his mouth claimed mine. 

My lips were already parted when his tongue pushed inside, hot and demanding.

He broke the kiss for a second. 

“I have been wanting to do this," he said out of breath. 

I pushed him closer. 

He sucked hard on the tip of my tongue, drawing it deeper, letting his teeth graze the sensitive skin just enough to make me gasp. 

The sound seemed to snap something in him. 

One hand slid up to fist in my hair, tilting my head back so he could angle in harder, fucking my mouth with slow, deliberate thrust of his tongue while the other hand clamped possessively around the back of my neck, keeping me exactly where he wanted me. 

My breath rushed in faster. 

When he pulled back, his eyes burned. “The academy is not for the weak, Amber.”