Taming The Alpha

Catalina ran her fingers across the spine of the book one last time before sliding it back onto the shelf. The quiet of her room felt heavier than usual. She returned to bed, pulling the covers to her chest, but before her head could touch the pillow, her phone rang.

She exhaled sharply, grabbed it from the side table, and stepped onto the balcony.

“Mom… why?” she asked, her voice tired. “Is something wrong?”

“Did I wake you, baby?” her mother asked, breathless.

Catalina almost nodded out of habit before remembering she was on the phone. “No.”

On the other end came the sound of uneven breathing — panicked, strained. Catalina knew that sound too well.

“I need you here, darling. Your father and I… we need you at the hospital.”

Catalina straightened. Without hesitation, she nodded, even though her mother couldn’t see it.

“I’m coming.”

Minutes later, she was already on the road, the city lights streaking past her windshield. Her phone rang again.

She switched it to speaker. “Hello?”

“Child, where are you? There’s been a major accident nearby. The ER is overflowing — we need you now.”

“I’m almost—what the—”

Blinding light. A deafening crash.

Glass exploded inward as something massive slammed into her car. Pain tore across her face as shards from the windshield struck her eyes. The world spun, then vanished into darkness.

She couldn’t move.

Couldn’t see.

Couldn’t hear anything except the distant ringing inside her skull.

Warm liquid slid down her cheeks — tears mixed with blood.

For a suspended moment, everything seemed frozen… until another impact crushed the vehicle again, metal folding like paper. It felt deliberate, merciless — as if fate itself had decided she would not survive.

A bitter smile touched her lips.

So this is how it ends.

When she woke, the world had changed.

The room was luxurious — elegant even — yet something about it felt wrong. The walls were painted in deep shades that swallowed the light, turning beauty into menace. A massive wolf portrait dominated the space above a black door, its painted eyes seeming almost alive.

A strip of thin black gauze covered her vision.

Panic surged.

She shook her head frantically until the fabric slipped just enough for blurred shapes to emerge.

“Where… am I?” she whispered. “This isn’t my room… Am I—”

Alive?

Dead?

Her voice trembled in the suffocating silence.

Then she heard it.

Footsteps.

Heavy. Deliberate. Approaching.

Her heart lurched violently.

She tried to move — only to realize her wrists were bound to opposite sides of the bed with soft but unyielding fabric. Her breathing grew shallow as terror crawled up her spine.

The door clicked.

It swung open.

This has to be a dream.

Hours ago, she had been safe in her own bed. Now she was blindfolded, restrained, dressed in unfamiliar silk, and trapped in a place that felt more like a predator’s den than a bedroom.

The footsteps stopped beside her.

“Please…” she managed, her voice barely holding together.

“Please what?” a deep voice replied.

Cold. Controlled. Dangerous.

A low growl threaded through the words — not quite human.

“Don’t touch me,” she begged. “Please… just let me go.”

A soft chuckle — utterly devoid of warmth.

“Let you go? Why would I do that… Miss Montessori?”

Her stomach dropped.

“I—I’m not— You have the wrong person. I’m not a Montessori! My parents are the Weinrichs—”

“This arrangement,” he interrupted, voice sharpening, “was made by your clan.”

His presence loomed closer, suffocating.

“I have no intention of releasing my prey.”

Prey.

The word shattered whatever composure she had left.

Pain suddenly exploded inside her head — blinding, overwhelming. Images flooded her mind: memories that weren’t hers, emotions she had never lived, a life she had never known.

When the agony subsided, she lay trembling, breath ragged.

Understanding settled like ice in her veins.

Catalina was gone.

And she… was someone else.

Paris Montessori.

A disposable daughter. An unwanted child. A sacrifice offered to appease a powerful clan.

This body wasn’t meant to survive tonight.

“I’m… scared,” she whispered, voice breaking despite her effort to sound calm. “Please… just give me a moment.”

A hand seized her chin, forcing her face upward.

“I don’t care about your fear,” he said coldly.

Even without seeing him, she could feel the power radiating from him — suffocating, predatory, absolute.

“Know your place, Montessori.”

Rage flickered through her terror. She struggled against the restraints, but it was useless.

“You’re unwanted,” he continued, voice like sharpened steel. “Your own family sent you here to be ruined.”

Her chest tightened painfully.

“If I had a choice,” she said hoarsely, “I would never have come.”

A pause.

Then a humorless laugh.

“Don’t pretend innocence. Your family wants power. They want my throne… my Luna’s place.”

Realization struck her like lightning.

Lucas McWood.

The Alpha.

Thunder rolled outside, shaking the room. The storm mirrored the chaos inside her chest — fear, fury, helplessness tangled into something suffocating.

She squeezed her eyes shut as tears slipped silently down her temples.

In her old life, her parents would have burned the world to protect her.

Here… she had no one.

Only strength mattered.

And she had none.

“I just have to survive tonight,” she whispered to herself, voice trembling but stubborn. “After this… I’ll be free.”

But even as she said the words, doubt clawed at her heart.

Freedom had never felt so far away.