chapter 5

Chapter 5

Enzo

I stood in the center of the large, dimly lit room and watched the boy. He was kneeling on the hard floor, his body small and trembling. My beta had already told me what I needed to know: his name was Noah.

I looked at him, really looked at him, and I saw the terror etched into every line of his face. His eyes were wide, darting around the room as if looking for a way to escape a nightmare that had no exit.

He looked breakable, like a bird with a clipped wing.

But the moment I took a step toward him, everything changed. It wasn't a choice I made; it was something deep inside my blood. My wolf, Moses, surged forward with a force that nearly knocked the wind out of me. He was howling, a sound of pure recognition that echoed in my skull.

Before I could catch the word, before I could push it back into the dark corners of my mind, it slipped past my lips.

"Mate."

The word felt heavy in the quiet room. It felt wrong.

My beta, Ren, reacted instantly. He saw the way I froze and the way my expression shifted. He moved forward, his hand reaching out as if to help me or perhaps to step between me and the boy. But I didn't want his help. I didn't want anyone near me.

I raised my hand sharply, a silent command that stopped him in his tracks.

I stared down at Noah. I didn't feel the warmth or the joy that the stories always talked about when a wolf found his other half. Instead, I felt a burning, white-hot anger. It scorched my chest and made it hard to breathe.

How could this happen to me? How could I, the Alpha, be tied to a human?

In my world, humans were nothing. They were weak. They were slow. They were meant to be slaves, tools to be used and then discarded. They were meant to serve our kind, not to sit beside us on a throne.

To me, a human was a flaw. And now, the universe was telling me that this specific, broken human was the missing piece of my soul.

I hated him for it. I hated the way he looked at me with those scared eyes.

"Take him away," I snapped at the guards.

I waited until the doors slammed shut and the sound of Noah’s dragging feet faded down the hallway. The silence that followed was even worse. I looked at the glass of whiskey still in my hand. Without thinking, I threw it.

It hit the far wall and shattered into a thousand glittering pieces, the liquid staining the expensive wallpaper.

A deep, guttural growl rose from my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting to push Moses back down. But the wolf was restless. He didn't care about my pride or my hatred for humans. He only cared that his mate was nearby.

I felt my body begin to react to the stress. My claws slid out, sharp and black, digging into the palms of my hands. I could feel the heat behind my eyes, and I knew they had turned that predatory shade of red.

I was on the edge of a shift, my skin tight and my muscles aching. I knew exactly what my wolf wanted. He wanted to go to Noah. He wanted to claim him, to protect him, to mark him as ours.

But I stayed where I was. There was no way I would ever accept a human. I would not let a weak creature like that have power over me.

The door opened again. I didn't have to look up to know it was Ren. He was the only one brave enough to come back in so soon. I sensed him standing near the shattered glass. I didn't turn around. I kept my back to him, my claws still extended.

"Have you handled the boy?" I asked. My voice was a low rumble, barely human.

Ren nodded, his voice steady despite the energy vibrating off me. "He is locked up, Alpha. In the basement room. He won't leave until you give the order. The chains are secure."

I turned slowly to face him. I must have looked like a monster. My claws were still out, and I could feel the red glow of my eyes reflected in the dark windows.

Ren looked at me, and for a second, I saw a flash of confusion on his face. Then, it turned into something else—concern. He had been my friend for a long time, and he knew me better than anyone.

"Why do you feel pain?" he asked softly. He stepped a little closer, searching my face. "Is it because of that human? Did he do something to you?"

I didn't want to explain. I couldn't explain the shame of what I had discovered. I just stared at him for a long moment, my chest heaving. The silence stretched until it felt like it would snap.

"Leave," I said coldly.

Ren bowed his head. He didn't argue. He knew when I was past the point of talking. He turned and walked out, closing the door softly behind him.

I stayed in that room for a long time. Eventually, the sun went down and the shadows grew long. I sat down heavily in my chair, staring at the spot where Noah had been kneeling.

My wolf spoke to me then, his voice a constant, urgent pressure in the back of my mind.

We should go see our mate, Moses growled. He is finally right in front of us. He is cold. He is hurting. Why are we here?

Hearing those words made my anger flare up all over again. I hit the arm of the chair with my fist.

"I can never make a human my mate," I said out loud, my voice harsh in the empty room. "He is nothing. He is a debt to be paid. That is all."

But as the hours ticked by, the pull became impossible to ignore. It was like a physical rope tied to my heart, tugging me toward the basement.

Midnight came, and the house fell into a deep, heavy quiet. The guards were at their posts, and the hallways were empty. I found myself walking. I didn't even remember deciding to move, but my feet knew exactly where they were going.

I stopped in front of the heavy wooden door. I stood there for a long moment, my hand hovering over the handle. I hated myself for being there. I hated that I couldn't just stay in my room and forget he existed.

Finally, I turned the handle and stepped inside.

The room was freezing. The stone walls held the damp chill of the night. Noah was on the thin bed in the corner. He was asleep, or at least he had been. He was curled into a small ball, his body shaking visibly from the cold.

The heavy iron chains around his wrists and ankles clinked softly as he moved in his sleep. He looked so vulnerable, wearing nothing but his boxers, his skin pale against the dark shadows of the room.

Something twisted inside my chest. It wasn't anger this time; it was something much more dangerous.

It was an ache.

I moved closer to the bed, my footsteps silent on the stone floor. The moment I stepped into the faint light near him, Noah’s eyes snapped open. He didn't scream, but he gasped, his breath hitching in his throat.

Our gazes met, and I saw the instant the recognition of who I was hit him.

He scrambled back, his body hitting the cold stone wall. The chains rattled loudly, a harsh sound in the small room. He looked like a trapped animal waiting for the final blow. His voice came out scared and shaky, barely more than a whisper.

"What do you want to do with me?" he asked.

I didn't answer. I kept moving slowly, like I was approaching something wild that might bolt at any second. I reached the edge of the bed and sat down.

Noah tried to pull away even more, pressing his back so hard against the wall I thought he might try to disappear into it. I could hear his heart. It was racing, a fast, frantic thrumming that I could feel in my own blood.

I just stared at him. I took in every detail—the bruise forming on his cheek from where his father had hit him, the way his ribs showed when he took a sharp breath, the fear in his dark eyes.

He was so small compared to me.

Slowly, almost against my own will, I lifted my hand toward his face. I wanted to touch his skin, to see if he was as soft as he looked. I wanted to see if the connection would feel different if I actually touched him.

But as my fingers got close, a sharp pain shot through my skull. Moses was trying to take full control, pushing against the walls of my mind with everything he had. The power was too much.

I pulled my hand back quickly, my breath coming in short bursts. I had to stop. I had to regain control before I did something I would regret—before I let the wolf win.

Noah watched me the whole time. He didn't move an inch. His eyes were wide, filled with a confusing mix of terror and a strange curiosity he probably didn't even realize he had.

I looked at him, my emotions swirling like a storm. I felt hate, I felt disgust, and I felt a pull so strong it made me feel sick.

Then, without thinking, I reached out again. This time, I didn't hesitate. I grabbed his neck. I didn't squeeze hard enough to hurt him or stop his breath, but I held him with a firm, steady grip that forced him to stay still.

I needed him to look at me. I needed him to see me.

I looked straight into his eyes, searching for an answer to a question that didn't have one.

"Why you?"