How Far An Alpha Will Go.

Keon’s POV

She doesn’t say anything when I lift her.

Not a word.

Her body just relaxes into mine like she doesn’t have the strength to argue, her head falling lightly against my shoulder, her breathing slow and uneven from exhaustion.

Or maybe from everything that just happened.

I don’t question it.

I don’t give her the chance to protest either.

One arm under her knees. The other firm around her back.

Secure.

Mine.

The thought comes naturally.

Too naturally.

And this time

I don’t push it away.

The corridor is quiet as I walk, my steps steady, controlled, but my mind is anything but. The palace feels different at this hour. Colder. Still. Like it’s holding onto everything it witnessed tonight.

Or maybe that’s just me.

Because I can still feel her.

The warmth of her body against mine. The faint rise and fall of her chest. The way her fingers curl slightly into my shirt without even realizing it.

My grip tightens just a fraction.

Not enough to wake her.

Just enough to remind myself she’s here.

That this is real.

That it happened.

And I don’t regret it.

Not for a second.

My jaw sets as I continue down the hall, my gaze fixed ahead.

If anything—

I’m more certain now.

About her.

About what this is.

About what it’s been trying to become since the moment she stepped into my territory.

I gave her space.

More than I should have.

Let her walk freely.

Let her decide.

Let her stand beside me without pressure.

And what did that do?

It gave Derrick room.

Too much room.

The image flashes in my mind before I can stop it.

Him in her room.

Close to her.

Touching her.

My hand clenches slightly against her back before I force it to relax.

Control.

But the anger doesn’t fully fade.

It settles.

Low.

Quiet.

Dangerous.

He’s my brother.

That fact doesn’t change anything.

If anything, it makes it worse.

Because he knows better.

He should know better.

And yet—

I exhale slowly, pushing the thought aside before it turns into something else.

This isn’t about him.

Not right now.

This is about her.

And what I’m going to do next.

Because I’ve already decided.

I’m done pretending this is something I can ignore.

Done acting like distance will solve it.

It won’t.

All it does is create space for someone else to step in.

And I’m not allowing that again.

Not with her.

Not ever.

We reach her door. I enter, walking towards the dresser. I grab a spare blanket on the chair next to it to cover her up. Once she's covered to my satisfaction, I turn around.

I see the bed. The place where it all happened, sheets still rumpled like it's expecting someone to come back and finish what they started. I click my teeth.

I don’t stop.

I pass it. I walk out the door, closing it with my back heel.

The decision is made before I consciously acknowledge it.

She’s not going back in there tonight.

Not after—

My jaw tightens again.

No.

I keep walking.

Her breathing shifts slightly against my shoulder, but she doesn’t wake. Just settles deeper, like she trusts where she is without needing to see it.

That does something to me.

Something I don’t examine too closely.

My room is farther down the corridor, separated from the others, quieter, more private. The guards posted outside straighten when they see me approach, but I don’t slow.

“Leave,” I tell them.

They hesitate for less than a second.

Then obey.

Good.

I push the door open and step inside, closing it behind me with a soft click.

The room is dark, lit only by the faint glow of the night filtering in through the tall windows. It’s quiet here. Controlled. Mine.

I move toward the bed and lower her carefully onto it, slower than necessary, making sure she’s settled before I let go.

For a second—

I don’t move.

I just stand there, looking at her.

Her hair fans out slightly against the pillow, still a little damp at the ends. Her lips are parted just enough for soft breaths to pass through, her face relaxed in a way it wasn’t earlier.

She looks… peaceful.

Like none of this is touching her right now.

That’s not true.

I know it’s not.

The bond doesn’t disappear just because she’s asleep.

I can still feel it.

Faint.

But there.

A steady pull beneath my ribs that refuses to loosen.

My hand lifts before I think about it.

Stops.

Then continues anyway.

My fingers brush lightly against a strand of her hair, pushing it away from her face. The movement is slow, deliberate, like I’m testing something.

She doesn’t stir.

Good.

I shouldn’t be doing this.

I know that.

I don’t stop.

My gaze traces over her features, slower this time.

More intentional.

Taking in details I avoided before.

The curve of her cheek.

The softness of her expression.

The way she didn’t pull away earlier.

That thought settles heavily in my chest.

Because that’s the part that matters.

Not the interruption.

Not Derrick.

Not the timing.

Her.

She stayed.

I straighten slightly, dragging a hand down my face as I step back.

This changes things.

Not in a way I regret.

But in a way I can’t ignore anymore.

Derrick is going to notice.

If he hasn’t already.

He’s not stupid.

And he doesn’t like being second to anyone.

Especially not when it comes to something he wants.

My jaw tightens.

That’s going to be a problem.

A big one.

But it’s not enough to make me step back.

Not anymore.

If anything—

It just means I move smarter.

More carefully.

But not slower.

Never slower.

My gaze shifts back to her again.

Still asleep.

Still in my bed.

And for the first time tonight, something in my chest settles.

Not completely.

But enough.

“She’s mine.”

The thought is quiet.

Certain.

Final.

I don’t say it out loud.

I don’t need to.

The decision has already been made.

Now it’s just a matter of what comes next.

And how far I’m willing to go to keep it.