The Alpha’s Forbidden obsession

**Isabella**

Life, as I’ve known it, has always had a way of balancing out the good with the bad. Raised in an orphanage, I learned early on that joy was something you created for yourself, even when the world seemed intent on stripping it away. The women who took care of me would often say that I was the most joyful child they’d ever seen, always smiling, always hopeful. I suppose that’s because I’ve always believed that life, no matter how harsh, had to be balanced by something good—something worth holding onto.

But today, as I walk through the dense woods with the sun slowly setting behind the trees, I can’t shake the feeling that the balance I’ve always relied on is about to tip in a way I’m not ready for.

The forest is familiar to me, a place of solace where I can escape the noise and chaos of the orphanage. But today, the air feels different—heavier, somehow, and filled with a tension I can’t quite place. The cool breeze carries the scent of pine and damp earth, a smell I usually find comforting, but now it only heightens my sense of unease.

I pause for a moment, glancing around at the towering trees that seem to close in on me. The shadows are longer, darker, and the silence is almost suffocating. For the first time in my life, I feel a cold grip of fear tightening around my heart, urging me to turn back. But I don’t. Something keeps me moving forward, though I can’t explain what it is—a strange pull that I can’t resist.

A rustling sound comes from behind me, and my heart skips a beat. I spin around, my eyes wide as I search the shadows, but there’s nothing there. Just the wind, I tell myself. But even as I try to calm my racing heart, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not alone.

“Who’s there?” I call out, my voice trembling despite my efforts to keep it steady. The words hang in the air, unanswered, and I immediately regret saying them. This is exactly how people get themselves into trouble in horror movies—by asking questions they don’t really want the answers to.

The silence that follows is more unnerving than any response could have been. I’m on high alert now, every nerve in my body buzzing with fear as I start walking again, faster this time. The path narrows as I go deeper into the woods, the trees growing closer together, their branches reaching out like skeletal hands.

Then I see him. A figure, tall and imposing, standing in the middle of the path ahead, barely visible in the fading light.

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word, but I can feel his eyes on me, watching, waiting. My instincts scream at me to run, to get as far away from him as possible, but my feet refuse to move. It’s like I’m rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but stare at him.

He steps forward, just enough that I can make out the sharp lines of his face, the intense, almost predatory glint in his eyes. My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it. I should be terrified, and I am, but there’s something else too—something that draws me to him despite the fear. It’s as if my body is reacting to him in ways I don’t understand, ways I shouldn’t even want to understand.

“Who are you?” I manage to ask, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he takes another step closer, and I take a step back, my pulse racing as I realize there’s nowhere for me to go. The trees are like walls around me, and he’s blocking the only way out. His eyes never leave mine, and I can feel the power radiating off him, heavy and oppressive, but also strangely compelling.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says finally, his voice deep and rough, sending a shiver down my spine.

“I… I didn’t mean to—” I stammer, but he cuts me off with a low, menacing growl.

“It doesn’t matter what you meant. You’re here now, and there’s no going back.”

His words are a warning, but there’s something in his tone that feels more like a promise—something dark and dangerous that I can’t help but be drawn to. My fear is still there, gnawing at the edges of my mind, but there’s also a thrill that I can’t deny. This man, whoever he is, represents something I’ve never encountered before—something wild and untamed, and part of me is inexplicably drawn to it.

I swallow hard, trying to find my voice, trying to make sense of the emotions swirling inside me. “What do you want from me?”

His lips curl into a smile, but there’s no warmth in it, only a cold, predatory intent that sends another shiver through me. “What I want is irrelevant. What matters is what I will do.”

Every instinct I have tells me to run, to scream, to do anything but stand here and let this man get any closer. But it’s like I’m in a trance, unable to move, unable to do anything but watch as he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from my face. His touch is surprisingly gentle, and it sends a jolt of electricity through me, like a current of dark energy that I can’t escape.

“Don’t worry, little human,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet over steel. “You’ll understand soon enough.”

Before I can respond, he turns and disappears into the forest, melting into the shadows as if he was never there. I’m left standing in the middle of the path, my heart still racing and my mind reeling. What just happened? Who was that? And why do I feel like my life will never be the same again?

As the last light of day fades from the sky, I realize that I’m not just lost in the forest anymore. I’m lost in something much darker, something far more dangerous. And somehow, I know that this is only the beginning.