THE NIGHTMARE

ALBA'S POV*

I thought the worst part of the gala was over.

I was wrong.

Because the second I closed my eyes that night, the past came dragging me back by my hair.

And the only person who heard me scream was the Alpha King.

The dress was still hanging on the door. Black silk. It looked like a weapon.

I couldn't look at it.

Blackwood Tower was too big. Too quiet. The bed was massive and the silence was worse than the noise had been.

I stood in the shower until my skin was raw. Scrubbing. Scrubbing off the cameras, the champagne on my dress, Veronica’s fake smile, Kieran’s hand clamped on my arm.

The rope burns on my wrists had gone purple. The salve helped. The ache under it didn’t.

I finally fell into bed at 1am.

For the first time in 5 years, I had a door that locked. Guards outside.

I should’ve felt safe.

I didn’t.

The dream started the same way it always did.

White roses.

The mating altar. Me at 18.

Kieran in black, smiling at someone behind me.

The crowd.

My white dress, too tight, too bright.

“I, Alpha Kieran, reject Alba Monroe as my mate.”

His voice echoed in my skull.

And the whole damn pack clapped.

Then it shifted.

Veronica wasn’t in white anymore. She was in red. Holding a knife.

“Wolfless trash,” she whispered, and her breath smelled like wine. “This is what happens to girls who try to steal what’s mine.”

The knife came down.

Once.

Twice.

Into my chest. Into my ribs.

Pain. God, so much pain I couldn’t breathe through it.

I tried to scream. Nothing came out.

I looked down. My hands were tied with silver rope again. Burning.

And I was back in the rain. On my knees.

Everyone watching.

My father, head down like a coward.

Kieran, with his arms around Veronica.

“Please,” I begged. My voice cracked. “Stop. Please”

No one did.

Then the rain turned to blood. Thick. Warm.

And the last thing I saw was Ares. Standing at the gate.

Silver eyes. Watching.

Not coming. Just... watching.

I woke up screaming.

My throat was shredded. Sheets soaked. I was clawing at my chest like I could dig the knife out if I tried hard enough.

The door slammed open.

Ares.

Bare chest. Black joggers. Hair a mess like he’d run here.

Two guards behind him with guns.

“Out,” he snapped.

They left. He shut the door.

He didn’t turn the light on.

“Alba,” he said. “Breathe.”

I couldn’t. I was hyperventilating. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

He crossed the room in two steps and sat on the edge of my bed. Not touching me. Not yet.

“Hey,” he said. Quiet. “You’re here. You’re at Blackwood. You’re safe.”

Safe.

The word broke something in me.

A sound came out of me. Half sob, half laugh. “I’m not.... I’m not okay......”

“I know,” he said.

And then he did something that wasn’t in the contract.

He pulled me into his lap.

His arms came around me. Solid. Warm. One hand on my back, slow circles. The other in my hair, holding me to his shoulder.

“Shhh,” he murmured into my hair. “I’ve got you. You’re not there. You’re here. With me.”

I cried.

God, I cried. Ugly. Loud. For 23 years of being called trash. For the rejection. For the rain. For the knife.

I soaked his chest and he didn’t move. Didn’t complain. Just held me tighter.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I’m sorry I’m so.....”

“Don’t.” He cut me off. “Don’t you dare apologize.”

His thumb came up and wiped tears off my cheek. Careful. Like I’d shatter.

“You were in hell,” he said. “You get to scream about it.”

We sat like that.

I don’t know for how long.

Until my breathing evened out. Until the shaking finally stopped.

When I pulled back, my face was a mess.

He looked at me. Really looked.

Silver eyes, dark in the moonlight from the window.

And there was something there I didn’t recognize. Not anger. Not alpha command.

Care.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded. Lied.

He saw it.

“Nightmares?”

“Since I was 8,” I whispered.

His jaw ticked. “About him?”

“About all of them.”

He cursed under his breath. Then he stood, and before I could ask, he picked me up.

“Ares.....what......”

“You’re not sleeping alone tonight,” he said. Like it wasn’t up for debate.

He carried me to the sitting room. Big couch. Fireplace.

Set me down, grabbed a blanket, wrapped me in it. Then he sat next to me. Close. Not touching.

“I’m not touching you,” he said. “But I’m not leaving. You have my word.”

“Why?” It slipped out before I could stop it.

“Because no one should wake up like that alone,” he said. Like it was obvious.

The fire crackled. We sat in silence.

After a while he spoke. “What did you see?”

I hesitated. Then told him. The altar. The knife. The rain.

With every word, his face got harder.

When I finished he was quiet for a long time.

“Kieran,” he said finally. Flat. Dangerous. “He’ll pay for this.”

“It’s not just him,” I said. “It’s Veronica. My father. The whole pack.”

“I know.” He looked at me. “That’s why we’re going to burn it down. Legally.”

I laughed. A real laugh. Small, but real.

“Okay,” I said.

He handed me water. I drank it with shaking hands.

“My wolf,” I whispered. “In the dream, she didn’t come. She never comes.”

Ares was quiet. Then: “She’s scared. Same as you. But she’s there, Alba. I told you. I can smell her.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “We’ll bring her out. Together. Starting tomorrow. 5am.”

“Of course. 5am,” I muttered.

That pulled the ghost of a smile out of him.

He stood after a while. “Try to sleep. I’ll be right outside the door.”

“Don’t,” I said before I could think.

He paused.

“Stay,” I whispered. “Just... on the couch. Please.”

He stared at me for 3 seconds. Then nodded once.

Grabbed another blanket and lay down on the couch across from me. Arms behind his head.

“Night, Alba,” he said.

“Night, Ares.”

For the first time in years, I didn’t dream.

---

Morning came too fast.

4:45am. Note under my door.

Training yard. 5am. -A

I was already up. Dark circles under my eyes, but I was up.

Ares was in the yard. Shirtless. Again. God.

He looked up when I walked in. Took in my face. The fact that I wasn’t crying.

“Better?” he asked.

“Better,” I said.

“Good.” He tossed me gloves. “Today we work on control. Anger. Because angry people don’t break.”

He said it like he remembered. Like he meant it.

We trained until the sun came up. Harder this time.

When I fell, he didn’t ask if I was okay. He just said, “Get up.”

And I did.

At the end, he walked me back inside.

In the hall he stopped.

“Last night,” he said. “What happened stays between us. Contract or not.”

“Okay,” I said.

His eyes dropped to my mouth. Then back up.

“Goodnight, Alba.”

“It’s morning.”

“Then good morning.”

He walked away.

I watched him go. My heart was doing something stupid.

Because the Alpha King who didn’t believe in pretending...

had just spent the night making sure I didn’t break.

That night another invite came.

Royal Blood Moon Ball. 3 days.

Mandatory.

And at the bottom, in gold ink that made my stomach turn:

Hosted by Alpha Kieran Nightfang and Luna Veronica.

Ares read it. Once. Then his fist closed and the paper crumpled with a sound like bone.

He looked at me. And the man who held me last night was gone. This was the Alpha King.

“We’re going,” he said. Quiet. “And this time, we don’t play nice.”

He held out his hand. Palm up. Waiting.

I knew what he was asking. Revenge. War.

My heart was still pounding from last night. From his arms. But I put my hand in his anyway. His fingers closed around mine, warm and sure.

“Ready to make them regret every single thing?”

The word came out before I could think.

“Ready.”