บททั้งหมดของ The Alpha's Crown : บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

The small cozy clinic was quiet, the kind of silence that presses against your ears until you almost imagine the building breathing with you. I'd stayed late-again.I sigh looking at the paperwork that had stacked up on my desk, ever since my staff were on medical leave.Chicken Nugget, my dog who I dare say is a heavily spoilt bernese mix was stretched out on his favourite rug like an attendant who had long since given up. His tail thumped lazily whenever I looked at him."You're lucky you don't have to do tax forms," I muttered, tapping my pen against the desk thinking of the upcoming planned surgeries coinciding with the shortage of staff.He gave a soft whine, which I believe is the canine version of an eye roll, then suddenly lifted his head, ears twitching.This lazy stack of potatoes was only ever curious for troublesome things, but before I could react, he bounded to the door."Chicken, no-"Too late. The door swung on its hinge as his nose shoved it open and the cold night ai

The night stretched on like a taut string, every sound magnified. The hum of the overhead lights pressed against my eardrums, insistent and sharp, while the ticking of the old clock marked each passing second like a countdown I could feel in my bones. Even the restless shuffle of the wolf’s paws against the blankets seemed deafening in the silence, each movement precise, deliberate, yet charged with an animal unease that made my stomach tighten.I tried to lose myself in paperwork, fingers moving almost mechanically over charts and scribbled notes. Dosages, recovery rates, herbal mixtures, sutures. I told myself that if I focused on the mundane, the impossible that had intruded into my life could be ignored. But my attention drifted to him constantly. That wolf. The one who shouldn’t be speaking, shouldn’t be here in my little clinic, shouldn’t have eyes that seemed to pierce through the dim light and see something in me I hadn’t even admitted existed.The memory of those crimson eyes

"Don't run."I sucked in a sharp breath, nearly choking on it as I stopped in my tracks while my eyes searched for my dog. The sound of his voice was nothing like I had expected. It wasn't merely human-it was commanding, velvety, with the faintest echo of something primal that refused to be tamed."You can talk," I stammered, my pulse hammering against my throat. "You- you're-"His head lifted slowly, every movement deliberate, as though even the smallest action carried the weight of his suffering. His gaze found mine again, piercing, unwavering."Not safe..." His words dragged like embers through smoke, heavy, warning. "...for you."I froze, my heart lurching painfully against my ribs. "What do you mean?" Chicken Nugget came cautiously to my side.He exhaled, wincing as he pressed a hand against his side. My bandages darkened faintly under the pressure of his fingers, but he did not seem to notice. Instead, he regarded me with a depth that made me feel stripped bare, as though he cou

"Zevrael."I repeated it, letting the syllables ground me. The sound filled the room. The name felt old, weathered, like it had been carved in stone long before I was born and lost in time for it be used for the newborns of this age."Listen. I don't really get what's happening. But currently I think we are safe here. No one knows you're here except-"My gaze flicked toward Chicken Nugget, who had curled near the table like a tiny sentinel."Except us," I finished. "You can trust him, he won't say a word." I offered humour lightheadedly both for myself and the tense stranger.His gaze followed mine briefly, then returned, molten fire softening-not gentle, never gentle, but less storm, more tide. "Safety," he murmured, almost to himself. "Such a fragile word, when spoken by mortals."I bristled, a spark of defiance against the weight of his disdain. "You're not the only one with teeth. I'm not just going to stand by, I took self defence-"He moved. So fast, so fluid, my heart lurched.

It was while I redressed his wounds that I first noticed it.The gash was jagged, angry, and ancient in appearance. It slashed diagonally across his chest, cutting through the sculpted planes of muscle like a scar etched in defiance of time. Unlike the claw marks that had already begun to fade, or the fresh tears of flesh I had stitched with shaking hands, this wound was different-older, unnatural, deliberate. It seemed almost alive beneath my fingers separated by gloves, ridged and raw in a way that made my skin prickle."This one," I whispered, my voice barely audible, as if speaking louder would summon something dark into the room. My hand hovered, then, despite every rational instinct, brushed lightly over the ridged flesh. The warmth of his skin beneath was startling. I froze, caught between awe and fear, my pulse hammering like a drum in my ears. "What caused it?"Zevrael's body stilled beneath my touch. And in his breathing I could hear the faintest hitch that made my stomach c