6. Kept Apart: Michail POV

Groaning, I heard a growl behind me. Before I could react, my face slammed against the ground, and then—nothing. Just the darkness swallowing me whole.

When I opened my eyes again, I realized I was lying inside a grand king’s bedroom. My face throbbed with pain. Before I could collect my thoughts, the mattress dipped, and Alpha Alek bent down to my level.

Every inch of my body ached, and then—in a single instant—his lips pressed against mine, clouding every question I wanted to ask.

His kiss was sweet, warm. His hot breath filled me, chasing away the hollow ache of losing my son. For a moment, that warmth eased the sharp edge of grief. But the memory cut through—I hadn’t even been allowed to see my boy’s body before I was knocked out. That loss burned deeper than any wound.

I wanted to see him one last time. Just once. Yet all I could think about now was this moment… with my Alpha.

My Alpha.

The realization shattered the haze of comfort. I broke away from the kiss and tried to move, but pain exploded in my skull. The memory surged back—my head slamming against the cold metal doors of the hospital morgue, the ones that kept the bodies of the dead.

I felt my body slipping back into darkness when Alpha Alek’s growl cut through, forcing me to stay awake. His voice made me flinch, a memory flashing—Doniel striking me whenever I dared disobey.

“Why did you do that?” he demanded.

Before I could form an answer, he forced his lips back onto mine. I winced at the sharp sting of pain, and he tore away abruptly, fists slamming into the wall. The sound made me scramble to hide, my body curling instinctively away from him.

My head pounded, and I pressed my palms against my temples, silently praying for the pain to fade. The fear clawed at me—terrified that the Alpha would hit me harder than whoever had already done it before.

The ache grew unbearable, exhaustion dragging at me. Yet I didn’t fall asleep. I lay there, unmoving, my body weak, but my ears caught everything. Every sound. Every breath. Every growl.

Waiting for the worst, I heard the door slam shut. A moment later, another door opened, and footsteps drew closer until a woman’s voice reached me.

“Miss Toth, I’m Doctor Conner. Do you remember my mate? He saw you when you came to him after thinking you were pregnant—when you found out you really were.”

Her words registered, but trying to speak hurt too much. I remembered him, yes, but I hadn’t known he was mated.

Something in her tone told me something was wrong. I heard drawers opening, items being moved, until her fingers pressed against my neck and then traced up to my head. The moment she touched the sore spot, I broke, tears spilling from the pain.

“You’re conscious, but you’ve got concussions—front, back, and another at the side. These are new, stacked on top of old ones. After I help you heal, I want you to know you can talk to me about these incidents. I want to help you. I know you’re in a lot of pain, but you aren’t alone, Miss Toth.”

I couldn’t answer, but I knew she was right.

Not only had I lost my son, but I’d been assaulted in the same room by someone I should have been able to trust. The thought that it might have been my ex-husband tore at me, and all I could do was hate myself for trying to shield my son from his father.

From his abusive father.

The only comfort I clung to was knowing that Zebasthian never met him, never felt his cruelty. But that comfort turned bitter, because I was also the reason my son was gone.

Whoever had me in their grip clearly knew how to keep me broken. Even after clawing my way free from my abuser with divorce papers signed, they’d made sure happiness remained out of reach—like it was something I didn’t deserve.

I felt the doctor’s hands shift me, the sting of a needle sliding into my arm. Whatever it was, it pulled at me fast. My body grew heavy, my muscles numb, the world fading until sleep dragged me under again.

When I opened my eyes, what I saw made no sense.

A small yellow bunny with glowing red eyes sat inches from my face, sniffing at my nose. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating. But then it jerked back, its body shivering, bones stretching, skin rippling—until before me stood a woman.

She looked exactly like me. Like me… and my mother.

The air shifted. Shadows bent, and before I could even process it, a man’s hand hurled a cloak over her bare shoulders. His voice thundered, raw with rage.

“I have no desire to be fated to a cursed thing like you! Worthless. Weak. A peasant at that! Leave me!” His words cracked like a whip, each one sharper than the last.

The woman staggered forward, tears streaming down her face. She clutched at him desperately, her sobs breaking the silence like shattered glass.

“Please… please, don’t do this,” she cried, her arms wrapping around him as if she could anchor him to her heart. “I can be what you need—just don’t cast me away!”

But his face hardened, lips curling back. He shoved her violently aside, his growl exploding with all the fury of a storm.

And then—I froze. Because that voice wasn’t just his. It was mine. The sound, the hatred, the venom—I heard it rip out of my throat, even though I hadn’t spoken.

It was as if I’d been dragged into his body, forced to wear his rage like a second skin. The words tore from me, unbidden, unstoppable:

“Let’s reject this evil curse and protect our pack from its taint, brother!”

The echo rattled inside me. My chest burned. My hands shook.

It wasn’t me. And yet—it was.

The curse?

Whatever they were talking about. It was pulling me under, binding me to something older, darker. My own voice had become a weapon of rejection, a tool of destruction.

I wanted to scream, to rip free, but the shadows swallowed the scene before I could move. The woman’s cry lingered, hollow and broken, until I heard him scream so loud it sounded as if it was two of the same people claiming.

“I, Alpha King Rowan and Roman Cygnus, reject you, Amy Milly Toth, as my fated mate and Luna!”

The sound of his fury shook me. His tone—gods, it was so much like Alpha Alek’s voice, only sharper, crueler. But it couldn’t be Alek. I had never heard him spit such venom.

And yet I couldn’t look away from the woman. Amy. The way she stared at him with wide, breaking eyes, the way the hope drained out of her face like a candle guttering in the wind—it made my chest ache. She had loved him. She had wanted him. Her entire life must have been bent toward this moment, only for him to destroy it with one strike of rejection.

She opened her mouth to speak, but before a single word left her lips, the world collapsed. Darkness swallowed everything, ripping her from me, pulling me down into silence.

Then—like surfacing from a nightmare—I heard the doctor’s voice again, dragging me back to the hospital, to reality, to pain.

“You mean to tell me she has old wounds from previous assaults? That’s impossible. There are no records of her being injured—only one report of a broken leg, caused by her now ex-husband.”

Alpha Alek’s voice filled the room, but something about it wasn’t right. It carried a rougher edge than usual, a shadow that didn’t belong. My mind flickered back to the dream, to the rejection, to that cursed voice—and it made no sense.

I groaned, pain lancing through my ribs. Footsteps approached, steady and deliberate.

“Michi, you’re awake… thank the goddess.”

The bed dipped near my chest as Alek sat beside me. His nearness should have calmed me, but before I could cling to that comfort, the doctor’s worried voice broke through.

“Alpha, I fear her health isn’t what those documents claimed. Something isn’t true here. Please—let me search deeper. I need to be sure for our Lu—”

A guttural growl slashed the air, silencing her. The same voice from my dream—raw, cruel, and laced with fury—snapped from the far corner of the room.

“Leave us. Find out whatever you think, Doc. I can’t wait to kill the poor bastard who thought he could get away with this shit and live.”

The doctor’s breath hitched. She stammered, gathering her things in a flurry, her fear stinking up the room.

“Yes—yes, Alpha, I’ll—we’ll talk again soon. Ex… excuse me. I’ll b-be back to check her state again. Excuse me.”

Her words tripped over themselves as she nearly ran from the room. The door slammed shut, and I shivered. I didn’t feel safe with that voice lingering here.

A monitor beeped, breaking the silence, and Alek’s tone softened—gentle, tender, the voice I knew.

“I’m sorry for my tone. I was just… scared I’d lost you. Please, forgive me, Michi. I swear I mean you no harm. I’m going to find out what’s happening, I promise you. But I need you to wake up now. Stay with me.”

His voice steadied me. Each word was a balm, easing the sharp edges of pain until I felt strong enough to obey. I forced my eyes open. At first, everything blurred and doubled—I could have sworn I saw two Aleks, one shadowing the other like in my dream.

But as my focus sharpened, the illusion faded. Only one Alpha stood before me. Just Alpha Alek. Just him.

And it felt… wonderful.

Among the pack, especially in the poorer districts and the middle-class homes, Alek was spoken of with nothing but respect. Admiration. To them, he was the kindest Alpha anyone could hope for. A leader with both strength and compassion, rare as gold.

But others—men like my ex-husband Doniel—painted a darker picture. To them, Alek was a beast with no soul. I still remembered one time when Doniel came back from practice wearing a cheap plastic brace on his arm. His wolf was already healing him, but Doniel, in one of his endless fits of rage, wouldn’t stop sneering that Alek had destroyed his arm in some cruel unfair fight.

Doniel always had venom ready for the Alpha. He ranted about how unfair it was that wolves like him worked endlessly while women only begged for equality, yet took “pathetic jobs” like drawing, writing… like mine.

He spat those words at me as if my art meant nothing. Yet my drawings had sold, my stories had spread. I had written books known across the world. I had made something of myself despite him.

But after the divorce, everything changed. I traded the freedom of online commissions and part-time service work for the cage of a full-time receptionist job. Something steady, something safe. Something to survive.

And yet, lying here with Alek’s eyes on me, I wondered if maybe, just maybe, I could be more than survival.

His eyes softened the moment I met them, yet there was something deeper there too… something I couldn’t name.

“Better,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “I can see you now. Truly see you.”

The way he said it sent a shiver through me, though I told myself it was just the exhaustion, the remnants of pain. Still, the weight of his gaze made my pulse quicken.

He reached out slowly, almost hesitantly, brushing his fingers along mine where they rested against the blanket. His hand was warm, steady, a silent promise of strength.

“You’ve been through so much, Michi,” he whispered, his thumb grazing the back of my knuckles. “More than you ever should have. But you’re still here. Still fighting.”

I swallowed hard. No one had ever spoken to me like that—not Doniel, not anyone. My ex had called me weak, useless, a burden. But Alek’s words… they made me feel seen. Cherished, even.

For a moment, I forgot the hospital, forgot the pain. All I felt was him—his presence like fire against the cold.

I tried to look away, but his hand tilted my chin gently, guiding my gaze back to his. The way he looked at me made my breath catch. There was something unspoken in his eyes, something raw and consuming, as if he knew a truth I hadn’t yet realized.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said, so quietly it was almost a vow. “Not with me.”

My heart stumbled, and I wondered if I was imagining the tenderness in his touch, the reverence in his voice. Because why would Alpha Alek—respected, admired, untouchable—look at me like I was more than just another broken woman trying to survive?

And yet… he did.