Chapter 5: Alpha Without Chains

Leonidas’s POV

She smelled like frost and old fire.

Like rain after a drought.

Like danger you don’t run from.

I didn’t follow her.

I didn’t need to.

Lydia would be on my mind long after the blood dried on that alley floor. She always lingered. She was the one thing I didn’t prepare for as I attended the ball.

Even when she pretended not to see me.

Even when her voice curled around mine like a blade hidden in silk.

She was cold, yes, but not dead.

And I knew death.

I’ve held it in my hands. I’ve buried it. Burned it. Worn it.

She was something else. Something that had once burned too hot and learned how to freeze.

And I? I was the idiot who kept walking into the fire, knowing damn well I’d melt if I stayed too long.

I returned to the compound just before dawn.

The dark already getting use to me and I, it.

I crossed the threshold of my gates just as the sky began to bruise with morning. The heavy iron arches groaned shut behind me, their sound echoing through the stillness like a warning to anyone foolish enough to follow. My boots met the earth gravel, the familiar crunch that told him me I was home, though the word never sat quite right in my mouth.

The compound wasn’t flashy. It didn’t need to be. Built low and wide into the natural slope of the land, the main hall stood like a sleeping beast, quiet, brooding, but undeniably powerful. Its walls were made of rough, cut stone, the kind that held heat in the winter and stayed cool in the fire of summer. Moss and time had softened the edges of the building, but nothing about it looked fragile. Nothing here ever did.

Thick wooden posts framed the wide porch that wrapped around the front, their bases carved with ancient wolf markings worn smooth by weather and memory. Two large braziers flanked the entrance, their embers still smoldering from the night watch. Smoke curled lazily upward, carrying the scent of ash, pine, and steel.

Inside the compound walls, the land spread out like a small village, though everything centered on me. Training fields stretched beyond the hall, worn with years of sparring and blood. The barracks sat off to the left, clean and organized. Warriors passed through in silence, eyes sharp and backs straight. Some dipped their heads as i passed, others simply cleared my path without needing to be asked.

At the center of it all was the Alpha’s house. My house.

Set back just enough from the rest of the buildings, it wasn’t large, but it loomed. Built from thick black timber and dark stone, it looked like it had been there for centuries. The windows were narrow but tall, framed in iron, always shuttered from the inside. A single lantern burned by the door, untouched since dusk.

My Beta, Cassian, met me at my door, stoic, alert, and suspiciously well-dressed for someone who didn’t sleep.

“You were gone long,” he said, a statement more than a question.

“Ran into a complication.”

Cassian’s nostrils flared briefly. Then his brow furrowed. I waited for what I knew was coming.

“You smell like... vampire.”

I didn’t respond. Just walked past him.

Cassian fell in step beside me, lowering his voice. “Was it her?”

I stopped walking.

His mouth shut, pressed into a flat line. Smart wolf.

I didn’t need this. Not right now. Not when my pulse was still betraying me.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he added after a beat. “But the Elders are going to ask questions.”

“They always do,” I muttered.

“They’re getting impatient.”

“I’m getting bored.”

He sighed. “They want a decision, Leo. You’ve put it off for nearly a year. And the longer you delay—”

“They’ll what?” I turned, voice low, sharp. “Challenge me? Exile me? Make someone else Alpha?”

Cassian didn’t answer.

Because we both knew the truth.

No one else could hold this pack.

Not the way I did.

Not the way they needed.

I won the title fair and square and whether I met their criteria’s or not, I won’t be going anywhere.

But respect wasn’t love.

And leadership wasn’t freedom.

More soldiers stood at the council door post, bowing their heads as I arrive.

It made me sick.

I didn’t lead for the power. I led because I was the last thing standing after the war tore our numbers in half.

I’d earned this place through blood, not politics.

And now?

Now they wanted to tie a leash around my throat in the form of a mate.

It wasn’t a suggestion anymore.

It was a requirement.

The Council had made that painfully clear: “No Alpha without a bond.”

“No leadership without legacy.”

“A mate to keep you grounded.”

Grounded; another name for controlled, softened.

They thought a mate would tame me.

Make me easier to predict. Easier to manipulate.

They didn’t understand that I wasn’t untamed.

I was just... unwilling to be caged.

And yet, every month, a new name appeared on the table.

Another list of “acceptable females.”

Loyalties measured in bloodlines and wombs.

They wanted tradition.

They wanted a quiet, submissive Luna who would bow her head and breed strength into the next generation.

But the only woman I saw, the only one I felt, was the one who would rather slit her own throat than belong to anyone.

Lydia.

And gods help me, that was why I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

I threw the list of potential mates into the fire without reading it.

Cassian didn’t even flinch.

“You’re going to have to choose eventually,” he said.

“I did,” I growled, teeth barely holding shape.

“I chose not to.”

The Council wouldn’t accept that for long.

Pressure was mounting.

Other packs were watching.

Our enemies; old and new, sniffing at the edges of our weakness.

And I?

I was standing in the middle of it, a hurricane dressed in fur and fangs, being told to sit down and smile.

I was starting to lose patience.

But worse... far worse…

I was starting to feel something.

Every time I looked at Lydia, every time I imagined what she’d look like if she let herself burn again, I felt it twisting in me like instinct turned traitor.

Not just desire.

Not just the pull.

The bond.

The beginning of something I had no intention of finishing.

Because if I ever touched her, really touched her, there would be no turning back.

And my people would never forgive me.

They feared me.

They followed me.

But if they knew what I wanted?

They’d never let me lead.

Not with a vampire beside me.

Not with a curse between my ribs where a mate-mark should be.

*******

The Council met in the Echo Chamber, a hollowed-out cavern beneath the sacred grounds, carved with the history of every pack Alpha since the first. Blood soaked these stones. Oaths broke on these floors.

And every time I stepped into this place, they expected me to break too.

I did not.

I arrived before the rest, as always. Cassian stood on my left, loyal, watchful, silent. And on my right was Kaela, my Third.

Sharp and efficient.

Where Cassian was restraint, Kaela was the blade you didn’t see until it pierced you.

She nodded once, her silver-blonde hair braided back tightly, a twin set of throwing knives gleaming at her hips. “They’re nervous,” she murmured under her breath.

“They should be,” I said flatly.

When the Elders finally filed in, I didn’t stand. Didn’t greet them. Just watched, calm, unreadable, as they shuffled into place.

Alaric cleared his throat. “Alpha.”

I let the title settle in the air.

A few of them looked uncomfortable already.

Good.

“You were seen at another crime scene last night,” Alaric continued, tone measured. “This time with the Nightborne girl again.”

Another confirmation that I didn’t need. These wolves were watching my every move.

“Her name is Lydia,” Kaela interjected before I could.

The room stilled.

Kaela crossed one leg over the other, entirely unbothered. “If you’re going to mention her, at least do it properly.”

Alaric’s jaw ticked, but he said nothing.

I leaned back slightly in my seat, letting the silence sharpen around me like ice.

“You’ve denied every request for a mate,” Elder Caelin spoke up. “Twelve months of stalling and refusals. You haven’t even glanced at the list.”

“That’s not true,” Kaela said. “He glanced. Then he burned it.”

The edges of my mouth lifted, just slightly.

“Enough,” Alaric barked.

I straightened then. Slowly and deliberately.

The air shifted.

“You sit here each week,” I said, voice smooth as stone, “demanding a mate like she’s a political tool, a leash. You want legacy and submission. A womb with a bloodline.”

“And you offer nothing in return,” Caelin snapped.

“I offer you peace,” I said softly. “You just don’t recognize it.”

Alaric folded his hands. “Your people grow restless, Leonidas. They feel your distance. The war took half of them. You cannot lead ghosts.”

“You mistake silence for absence,” I said, eyes steady. “I’m watching. I’m always watching.”

Cassian glanced at me, subtle. He knew the truth.

I hadn’t stopped watching since the killings began. I had maps. Routines. Shadow runners. I knew exactly who crossed our borders and when.

And last night?

That wasn’t a mistake. It was strategy.

Let them think I was tangled in that vampire.

Let them underestimate the discipline it took to leave her standing.

Kaela shifted beside me. “You think a mate will solve this? You want him to parade some she-wolf at your altar and pretend that’ll fix the deaths stacking in both clans?”

Maren leaned forward. “This isn’t just about alliances. This is about perception. About strength.”

“I am strength,” I said simply.

The words hit like a blade unsheathed.

No one dared argue.

Not aloud.

But their eyes screamed it.

They feared me.

And they should.

Because while they spoke of politics, I was preparing for war.

And while they worried about how I looked standing next to a vampire, I was tracking what had the power to tear one open and leave no trace.

They still thought I was distracted.

They didn’t see that I was planning six moves ahead.

“You’ll have a name for us in three days,” Alaric said finally, standing. “Or we will choose one for you.”

I stood too, not to match him, but to remind them who stood higher. Both physically and leadership wise.

“You try to leash me, Alaric,” I said quietly. “You will lose fingers.”

The silence that followed was heavier than anything they said.

One by one, they filed out.

When the room was nearly empty, Kaela turned to me. “That was tame, all things considered.”

“I’m learning.”

“You know they’ll test you soon.”

“Let them,” I said. “I’ll pass.”

Cassian sighed beside me. “You’re pushing it.”

“I know.”

“So what’s the plan?”

I looked past them, toward the far wall, where the seal of our lineage was carved deep into stone, still stained from my own initiation.

Then I said the truth I hadn’t voiced, even to myself.

“She’s not just a distraction.”

Kaela blinked. “The vampire?”

“She’s something else.”

Cassian frowned. “Something dangerous?”

I nodded once. “Exactly.”

They exchanged glances.

But neither of them questioned it.

Because they knew I never called something dangerous unless I planned to face it head-on.