Prize: Zane’s Perspective

I wake with the sun high in the sky, my body humming with awareness of the omega sleeping just beyond my wall. Her scent has permeated the stone between us, sweet and wild, a constant reminder of last night's prize. Conri paces through my mind, impatient as always. 'Check on her,' he urges, and for once I agree without argument. Four hours is enough rest for her to process her new reality. Time to begin the claiming process properly.

I dress quickly, pulling on dark jeans and a crisp black button-down that I leave partially open at the collar. No need for the formal attire I wear when meeting with other alphas or Council members. This is more... intimate.

'She's still sleeping,' Conri notes as I approach her door, his senses more attuned to her presence than even mine.

I unlock the door silently, stepping into her quarters. The room is bathed in mid-morning light filtering through the skylight, casting patterns across the bed where she lies curled on her side. Her auburn hair spills across the pillow, her face soft in sleep, all defiance temporarily erased. For a moment, I simply watch her, taking in the delicate curve of her cheek, the slight part of her lips, the way her fingers curl against the silken sheets.

'Beautiful,' Conri rumbles, and I can't disagree. There's something almost painfully perfect about her, the true omega genetics manifesting in a form designed to appeal to alpha instincts. And yet, beneath that genetic predisposition lies something else, something that caught my attention in the forest. Intelligence. Will. Fire.

I move to the edge of the bed, deliberately making noise now. "Wake up, little wolf," I say, my voice low but commanding. "You've slept long enough."

She stirs, eyes fluttering open before focusing on me with startling clarity for someone just woken. No disorientation, no confusion, just immediate alertness and wariness. Interesting. Most omegas take time to gather themselves.

"Alpha Thorne," she says, her voice rough with sleep as she pulls herself to a sitting position, drawing the sheet up to her chest as if it could protect her from me. 

"Zane," I correct her, sitting on the edge of her bed without invitation. "If you're going to be mine, you should use my name."

Her eyes narrow slightly. "I'm not yours yet."

The challenge in her voice should anger me. Instead, I find myself fighting a smile. "Semantics," I reply, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. She flinches away from my touch, and that does irritate me. "I've arranged breakfast in my office. Get dressed."

She glances at the wardrobe, then back at me, one eyebrow raised in silent question.

"I'm not leaving," I inform her, leaning back against the bedpost. "This is my pack house, my territory. There's nothing of yours I won't see eventually."

Her jaw tightens, a muscle jumping beneath the smooth skin. "Then you'll have to wait for breakfast," she says, voice deceptively sweet. "I'm comfortable right where I am."

Conri growls, but there's amusement in it. 'She has spirit.'

'She is disobedient,' I counter silently, my patience wearing thin.

In one fluid motion, I grasp her arm and pull her from the bed, sheet and all. She gasps, stumbling slightly before catching herself. I back her against the wall, my body caging hers, one hand moving to encircle her throat, not squeezing, just resting there as a reminder of my strength, my control.

"Listen carefully, Sophia," I say, my face inches from hers. "I've been accommodating because you're valuable. Because Conri wants your wolf. But there are limits to my patience."

Her hazel eyes flash with defiance, and she actually scowls at me, scowls, as if I weren't an alpha with my hand at her throat.

"Go ahead," she whispers, her pulse fluttering wildly beneath my palm. "Squeeze harder. Show me what kind of man you really are."

Something in me snaps at her words, not toward violence but deeper dominance. I press forward, using my entire body to pin hers to the wall, my fingers tightening just enough around her throat to make her breathing shallow. I lean in, my lips at her ear.

"Submit," I command, pushing alpha energy into the word.

She resists, body rigid against mine, but biology betrays her. Slowly, her muscles relax, her head tilting to expose her neck, the instinctive submission of omega to alpha. But her eyes... her eyes still burn with silent rebellion even as her body yields.

I release her, stepping back. "Get dressed," I repeat. "Now."

This time she obeys, moving to the wardrobe where Lyra has arranged her new clothes. She selects a simple blue dress, pulling it over her head with quick, efficient movements. I watch her with unabashed interest, noting the graceful line of her spine, the curve of her hips, the way she holds herself with dignity despite her circumstances.

"Follow me," I say once she's dressed, leading her through the corridors toward my office. Pack members we pass lower their eyes respectfully, though I catch their curious glances at Sophia. Her scent has already become a topic of discussion throughout the pack, I've heard the whispers, the speculation about the true omega in the Alpha's quarters.

In my office, breakfast has been arranged on the small table near the window, pastries, sliced meat, fresh fruit, coffee. I gesture for her to sit, taking the chair opposite her.

"Eat," I command, watching as she reluctantly selects a piece of fruit.

I serve myself, studying her over the rim of my coffee cup. "You have healing abilities," I state rather than ask. "Tell me about them."

She takes a small bite of apple, chewing slowly. "I can heal wounds," she says after swallowing.

My jaw tightens. "Elaborate."

She sets the apple down delicately. "With touch. Sometimes."

Again. Deliberately terse.

"And your empathic abilities?" I press.

She meets my eyes. "I feel others' emotions."

I feel my frustration building, but to my surprise, Conri is chuckling in my mind.

'Clever girl,' he says. 'Won't give what isn't earned.'

'She should obey without question,' I argue silently.

'Why?' Conri counters. 'Because others do? She's different. Special.'

I shake my head slightly, refocusing on Sophia, who watches me with those intelligent hazel eyes. She knows exactly what she's doing with her few-word answers, testing boundaries, probing for weaknesses.

"You're trying my patience," I tell her directly.

She sets down her cutlery with a soft clink. "So what now?" she asks, ignoring my comment entirely.

I lean forward, elbows on the table. "Now, little wolf, I claim you as mine. And next time you go into heat, you end up carrying my pup."

Her face pales slightly, but she doesn't look away. I continue, softening my tone slightly. "I'll be good to you, little wolf. You'll want for nothing."

She shakes her head, and I see tears gathering in her eyes that she stubbornly refuses to let fall. "Can you do me one favour?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I raise an eyebrow, genuinely curious. "That depends on the favour."

"Can you find out what happened to my parents?" The words rush out of her. "They risked everything to help me escape the Council. I need to know if they're..." She trails off, unable to finish the sentence.

Understanding dawns. Her parents helped her run; committed treason against the Council for her freedom. Now I see why she fights so hard. She comes from wolves willing to die for freedom.

I nod slowly. "I'll find out, little wolf."

A small, forced smile flickers across her lips, but her eyes remain bright with unshed tears. I'm surprised by my sudden urge to wipe them away, to offer comfort, a foreign impulse I quickly suppress.

"Come," I say, standing. "I'll give you a tour. You can have free reign of the public areas of the pack house, but if you try to leave, I will bring you back. By force, if needed."

She clenches her jaw, the muscle jumping again, a tell I'm beginning to recognise. "Fine. I'd appreciate it if my gilded cage contained more than the same four walls," she says finally.

I offer my arm to her, oddly pleased when she takes it, even reluctantly. This strong-willed omega with her five-word answers and hidden tears intrigues me more than any wolf I've encountered in decades.

And tonight, she'll be mine completely.