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The Alpha Prince
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2025-06-17 07:05:54He arrived with no fanfare, and yet the air changed the moment he stepped into it.
We were assembled in the northern courtyard for combat pairing announcements. Dawn hadn’t warmed the stone, and the sky was still ash-grey, bleeding toward storm. The instructors stood like statues near the weapon racks, eyes scanning the lot of us like they were already counting bodies. I stood near the back, half-wrapped in my regulation cloak, arms crossed tight against the wind. My ribs still ached from a sparring match two nights ago. A girl from House Mournvale had cracked them clean. I won the match anyway. The sound came first—not footsteps, but the subtle shift of silence. Conversations dropped. Heads turned. Shoulders straightened. Then he appeared at the far archway. The boy who had looked at me the first day, the boy I had come to know as Lucian, the alpha prince. Lucian… I didn’t know he was royalty at first. I only knew he moved like the world didn’t have the right to touch him. He was taller than I expected. Broad-shouldered, all lean muscle and storm-black leather. His uniform wasn’t standard issue. His cloak was trimmed in silver thread, his collar marked with the sigil of the High Fang. His eyes—the color of frost and fire—swept the gathered cadets like they were beneath him. And maybe they were. “Who is that?” I whispered to the boy beside me. He didn’t look away. “That’s the Alpha Prince.” Oh. Fantastic. Lucian stopped near the instructors, saying nothing. He didn’t need to speak to be heard. His presence was a command. A witch beside me—one of the pureblood girls—sighed like she was seeing her favorite poem brought to life. “He trained with the royal pack. Killed a mountain drake when he was fifteen. He’s already been leading hunts.” “Must be nice,” I muttered, “having your crown handed to you along with your claws.” It was meant to be quiet. It wasn’t. The courtyard had gone still again—painfully so. And I knew the moment I made the mistake. Knew it before I looked up and saw Lucian’s eyes on me. Frost and fire, now locked on mine. He didn’t look angry. He looked… interested. Gods, that was worse. A low chuckle rose from the instructors. Commander Kael, standing beside Lucian, arched a brow. “Would you care to repeat that, Thornbrook?” I lifted my chin. My blood roared in my ears, but I kept my face still. “I said it must be nice.” Lucian took a step forward. Just one. I hated the way the world seemed to tilt toward him. The way heat bloomed in my cheeks. His scent hit me then—smoke, pine, and the kind of cold you only find at the heart of a blizzard. He didn’t stop until he stood a few paces away. Close enough that the other cadets subtly pulled back. His voice was smooth, low, and sharp as broken glass. “Is there a problem with my presence, witch?” “No,” I said. “Just your entitlement.” A sharp inhale from someone nearby. Lucian’s gaze dropped briefly to my mouth, then back to my eyes. “Entitlement requires something to be owed. I take what I earn.” “And you think that’s what you’ve done?” His jaw twitched. Just barely. He didn’t answer. Instead, he looked to Commander Kael and said, cool as winter rain, “Pair me with her.” My stomach dropped. “What?” The commander’s grin was all teeth. “As you wish, Your Highness.” Lucian looked at me again. “You’ll learn quickly, witch. Or you’ll bleed trying.” “Don’t worry, wolf,” I said, teeth bared. “I’ve bled before.” His mouth curved, just slightly. Not a smile—something more dangerous. Something that promised ruin. We stood there, two storms circling the same sky. It was hatred, it was heat, and it was only the beginning.
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Her Enemy, His Curse The light of the Hallow
Lucian:Arielle barely breathed.But she did breathe.That was the only reason the world hadn't shattered beneath me.I held her tighter, arms around her like I could transfer my strength into her bones. Her blood soaked my chest. Her magic — flickering and faint — brushed my skin like a fading ember.But it was hers.She was still here.Still mine."Stay with me," I whispered, voice shredded raw.Her fingers twitched weakly against my collar. That was enough.I didn't look at the bodies I'd left behind.Didn't need to.The sounds they'd made — choking, cracking, pleading — had already been memorized by the part of me that didn't forgive.The part that was wolf.A torch burned low in the corner. The walls bled. Not with blood but with whispers etched in a language no one should speak.The realm had felt me arrive.And it hated me for it.I shifted Arielle in my arms — one beneath her knees, the other behind her shoulders. She didn't fight me, only leaned into my chest, her breath shal
Her Enemy, His Curse The Savior
Lucian:The woods bent around me as I moved.Trees leaned like witnesses. The wind sharpened its breath. Even the shadows seemed to part as I stalked through them, the dagger still warm in my grip.Arielle's blade. Arielle's bond.And my oath.I didn't care if the path to her was carved through hell.I would carve back.The portal forge was hidden in the spine of the mountain. Old. Half-buried. Left to rot after the Rift Wars. I'd passed it as a child once, my father calling it cursed. A place only fools and traitors dared to use.Now?It was perfect.Fenton caught up just as I reached the ridge, breath shallow but steady. He carried a small vial and a torn piece of cloth wrapped in leather."She left this on the dueling field," he said, offering both to me.A lock of her hair and blood that was dried but still potent.It shouldn't have hurt. But the sight of it made my vision go white at the edges.I snatched both without a word.The forge door stood before us—carved stone, overgrown
Her Enemy, His Curse The search for fate
Lucian:The echoes of my howl still clung to the cliffs when I stood.Not entirely shifted, nor fully man.Somewhere in between.My skin felt too tight, too hot—like my own magic didn't know where to sit without her to anchor it. My hands trembled, claws half-formed. My teeth were sharp beneath the press of my tongue. I could still taste the blood I hadn't spilled.I didn't wait for orders.I didn't wait for strategy.I didn't wait for comfort.I turned from the cadets, from my best friend Fenton, from everything that wasn't her—and stalked into the broken husk of the command building. The shattered bones of a desk lay in splinters beneath me. A wall bore the imprint of something scorched. Not fire—sigil-burn.I knew that kind of magic. Ancient. Illegal. Rift-borne.I knelt beside the mark, my hand hovering just over the residual heat still pulsing from the ground.Spellfire. Tethering magic. A trap set to recognize her.She and no one else.It hadn't gone off by accident.They had wa
Her Enemy, His Curse The fall
Ari:The flight was uneventful.Too uneventful.The griffins flew hard and fast, their wings cutting through the sky like knives, leaving ripples in the clouds behind us. I kept my eyes on the horizon, jaw set, hands tight on the reins even as the cold air burned through the thin seams of my gloves.Below, the earth stretched into shadow. Forests gave way to jagged ravines, frost-tipped peaks, and fields dusted in snow that didn’t belong to the season. Magic had touched this land once. Now it lay dormant, sleeping, waiting.No one spoke to me. Not during flight. Not during the descent into the valley. Not when we dismounted on the outskirts of the research outpost—what was left of it.The buildings were half-collapsed, scorched black at the edges, and the remnants of spells still buzzed like hornets around the perimeter. The air stank of ozone and burnt wood. There were no bodies, no signs of struggle, just… silence.Too much silence.“This doesn’t feel right,” I muttered, more to mys
Her Enemy, His Curse The mission at hand
Ari:The scent of steel clung to me.Not blood. Not sweat.Steel.Unforgiving. Cold. Familiar.The blade lay beside me now, useless as my limbs, as my voice. I had stopped swinging long before the others arrived. Stopped moving altogether, crouched on the mat like a broken thing, trying to remember how to breathe.I heard them before I saw them.Boots scuffed against sand. Quiet conversation. The kind that always stopped the moment I was in earshot. I didn’t look up. Let them pass around me like wreckage they didn’t want to acknowledge.No one asked what happened.No one offered a hand.They moved around me like I was a ghost.I got to my feet slowly, every muscle aching, my hands raw beneath the wrappings I’d torn from my pack. My hair clung to my neck, my chest heaving with the aftershocks of what I’d done—who I’d let in—and what it had cost me.Lucian was nowhere to be found.But that wasn’t new.He was always leaving.And still, somehow, he’d made a home inside me.I didn’t have t
Her Enemy, His Curse The brokenhearted and blue
Lucian:The rooftop was too small to hold what I felt.The wind hit me like a blade when I left her, cold and punishing, slicing through the heat still clinging to my skin. I could still taste her on my tongue. Still feel her hands dragging me back from the edge of restraint. Her body had welcomed mine like a vow, like a tether, like she’d known all along we were built to fit together this way.And gods help me—I hadn’t run because I didn’t want her.I’d run because I did.Because I wanted her more than I’d ever wanted anything.I didn’t stop moving until the castle fell away behind me, until stone gave way to earth, forest, and shadows older than any of the crowns we wore. Somewhere deep in the woods, I collapsed against a crumbled ruin—the remnants of an outpost lost to time. Ivy had claimed the walls. Moss had softened the bones of ancient war. It was forgotten, hidden.Safe.And I broke there.I leaned back against the stone, breath ragged, chest heaving like I’d outrun death its
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