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CHAPTER 3: Savage Alpha

Author: Zerath
last update publish date: 2026-03-14 21:47:14

I wake up in a bed that's not mine.

That's my first thought. Before I open my eyes, before I remember anything—just that the sheets smell different. Like pine and something else. Something clean and sharp.

Then everything comes rushing back. The rejection. The run. The rain. The wolves.

I sit up so fast my head spins. White walls. Big windows. A fireplace in the corner with actual fire burning. I'm in someone's house. Someone's room. And I'm wearing clothes that aren't mine—a soft gray t-shirt that hangs past my thighs, no bra, no pants.

My heart starts slamming against my ribs.

The door opens and I freeze.

A girl, maybe a year or two younger than me, with dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and eyes that are almost silver—like the guy from last night. She's carrying a tray with a bowl of something steaming.

"Oh good, you're awake." She sets the tray on the nightstand like she's known me forever. "I'm Maya. You're in my brother's house. You've been out for like, eighteen hours. The healer said you'd probably sleep through till morning but here you are, blinking at me like a confused kitten." She grins. "Cute look, by the way."

I just stare at her. My brain can't catch up.

"Right, you're probably wondering about the clothes." Maya plops onto the edge of the bed like she's known me forever. "Esther—she's our healer—she stripped you down because you were soaked and freezing. The shirt's Damian's. Hope you don't mind. You didn't have much on under that dress anyway and it was totally ruined, like, beyond saving, so—"

"Damian." I find my voice. It's scratchy. "The guy from last night. He carried me here."

"Yep. Our illustrious Alpha." She rolls her eyes but there's affection in it. "He's been lurking outside your door all night. Won't admit it, but I caught him." She leans in. "I've never seen him like this. He usually doesn't bring stray wolves home."

"I'm not a stray."

"I know." She says it softer now. "I know you're not. I'm sorry. That came out wrong." She pushes the tray toward me. "Eat. It's just broth. Esther said start slow."

I look at the bowl. My stomach turns at the smell. But I pick up the spoon anyway, because she's watching, because I don't know what else to do.

"It's rejection sickness, right?" Maya asks. Not mean. Just curious. "I've heard about it but never seen it. You must have been really close to sealing the bond."

I almost drop the spoon.

"How did you—"

"The way you smell." She shrugs. "Like broken mate bond. It's got a specific scent. Sad and burnt at the same time." She pauses. "Caden Ahearn, right? Word travels fast. Even to enemy packs."

I put the spoon down. Can't eat anymore.

"Look." Maya shifts on the bed. "I'm not gonna pretend I know what you're going through. But my brother—Damian—he doesn't do things without reason. He brought you here. Saved you. That means something." She stands. "I'll go get him. You should talk."

She's out the door before I can say no.

---

Damian doesn't knock.

He just appears in the doorway, filling it with his height, his shoulders, that intense stare. He's dressed now—dark jeans, a simple black sweater. His hair is dry, pushed back from his face. The scar through his eyebrow is more noticeable in the firelight.

He doesn't come in. Just stands there, watching me.

"You're awake." His voice is the same as last night. Low. Careful.

"Apparently." I pull the blanket higher. Stupid, because the shirt covers everything, but I feel exposed anyway. "Your sister said you've been lurking."

Something flickers across his face. Embarrassment? "She talks too much."

"She seems nice."

"She's a nightmare." He says it like a compliment. Still doesn't move from the doorway. "How do you feel?"

"Like I got hit by a truck. Then backed over. Then set on fire."

One corner of his mouth twitches. Almost a smile. "Rejection sickness. It'll pass. A few days, maybe a week. Esther left herbs. Maya can show you—"

"Why?"

He stops. Looks at me properly.

"Why did you save me?" My voice cracks. "You don't know me. I'm from an enemy pack. I could be anyone. I could be—"

"You were dying." He says it simply. Like that explains everything.

"People die all the time. Rogues kill people every day. You can't save everyone."

"No." He steps into the room now. Just one step. "But I can save the ones who end up on my land."

"That's not a reason."

"It's the only reason I need."

I shake my head. This doesn't make sense. Alphas don't rescue random wolves from enemy packs. They don't carry them home and give them beds and stand guard outside doors. They just don't.

"What do you want from me?" I hear myself ask it. "What's the price?"

His face changes. Hardens. "There's no price."

"Everyone wants something. Caden wanted a Luna who looked good on his arm. His mother wanted me gone. His brother wanted—" I stop. Swallow. "Everyone wants something. So what is it? Information? A debt? What do I owe you?"

Damian crosses the room in three strides. Stops at the foot of the bed. Looks down at me with those silver-gray eyes that seem to see right through everything.

"You owe me nothing." His voice is quiet but it fills the room. "You were bleeding on my land. I stopped the bleeding. That's it. No contract. No debt. No expectations." He pauses. "I'm not Caden."

I flinch at the name.

"Yeah." He notices. "I can see that's going to take a while."

"I don't need your pity."

"Good. Because I'm not offering it." He shoves his hands in his pockets. "I'm offering you a place to heal. After that, you can do whatever you want. Stay. Leave. Doesn't matter to me."

"Then why do you look at me like that?"

The question slips out before I can stop it. I don't even know what I mean by it. But he does. Something shifts in his eyes—darkens, deepens.

"Like what?"

"Like..." I can't find the words. "Like I matter to you—"

He's quiet for a long moment. The fire crackles. Somewhere in the house, a door closes.

"My parents died five years ago." He says it like it costs him something. "Rogues. I found them. Became Alpha at twenty-two. Raised Maya alone. Built this pack from nothing." He looks at me. "I know what it's like to feel like the world ended and you're the only one who—."

My eyes sting. I look away.

"I'm not trying to be your savior." His voice is softer now. "I'm just... I found you in the rain, half-dead, and something in me couldn't walk away. That's all. That's the whole truth."

I don't know what to say. Don't know what to do with this—this man who saved me for no reason, who stands there with his hands in his pockets like he's not the most powerful Alpha in the region, who looks at me like I'm actually a person instead of a problem.

"You should rest." He turns toward the door. "Maya will check on you later. If you need anything—"

"Damian."

He stops. Looks back.

"Thank you." My voice breaks on it. "For not letting me die."

He nods. Once. "Get some sleep, Selena."

He leaves. The door clicks shut behind him.

I lie back against the pillows. Stare at the ceiling. My body still aches. My chest still feels hollow where the bond used to be. But for the first time since Caden spoke those words, I don't feel like I'm drowning.

I don't know what that means.

I don't know what any of this means.

But when I close my eyes, I don't see Caden's cold face. I don't hear the rejection echoing in my skull.

I see silver eyes. Rain-soaked hair. A strange man.

And I fall asleep wondering if maybe—just maybe—the Moon Goddess didn't abandon me after all.

Maybe she just had a different plan.

---

I wake to shouting.

Male voices. Angry. I sit up, heart pounding, and listen. The words are muffled but the tone is clear—someone's furious.

The door bursts open. Maya.

"Stay here." She says it fast. "Don't move. Don't make noise. I'll be back."

"What's happening?"

She's already gone.

I throw off the blanket anyway. My legs are shaky but they hold. I pad to the window, peer through the curtains.

Below, in the front yard of the house, a crowd has gathered. Pack members. Dozens of them. And at the center—Damian, facing off against a group of men I don't recognize. Their postures are aggressive. Their scents, even from here, are wrong.

Bloodmoon.

They're from Bloodmoon.

And standing at the front, arms crossed, expression carved from ice—

Caden.

He's here.

He found me.

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