An Alpha's Heart

We were both cloaked in the richness of our ebony skin, but even there, he held a beauty that felt almost ethereal. It wasn’t just the flawless complexion, but the way he carried himself—a confidence that money and status could amplify but never create. He was wealth incarnate, every aspect of his life touched by a prosperity that was foreign to my own experience.
My family’s standing hinged upon the lives I took, each werewolf felled a step toward reclaiming what was lost. But he... he was born into a legacy of power, untouched by the desperation of survival. His lineage was one of alphas—leaders who shaped the very fabric of our world.
As he slept peacefully, unaware of the turmoil in my thoughts, I traced the line of his jaw with my gaze, committing to memory the contours that I had come to adore. The soft morning light did nothing to diminish the stark differences between us. He was magnificence personified, and I... I was a warrior with scars unseen and a heart heavy with unspoken fears.
Would he have chosen me, a woman whose hands were stained with the blood of his kind, if fate hadn’t decided it for him? Would he have seen past the duty that bound me to a darker path and instead seen the love that burned fierce and true within my soul?
W ith only his steady heartbeat for company, I let myself dwell in the uncertainty of what we were—and what we might never be if choices were ours to make.
His eyelids fluttered open, and the warmth in his amber eyes chased away the remnants of my brooding thoughts. With a playful glint, he arched an eyebrow, the corner of his lips turning up. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice a deep rumble that resonated through the still air. "Or should I be worried? You're not plotting to shoot me again, are you?"
The unexpected humor in his words startled a laugh out of me, a genuine burst of mirth that felt like a balm to my earlier turmoil. "Only if you give me a good reason," I retorted, the edges of my own lips curving into a smile despite the heaviness that lingered in my chest.
But as quickly as the laughter came, it faltered, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. The echo of gunshots rang faintly in my ears, a ghostly reminder of those harrowing moments when I'd believed him lost to me—twice. My throat tightened, and suddenly the room felt too small, the weight of my actions too heavy to bear.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, the words tumbling from my lips in a choked sob. My vision blurred as tears welled up, spilling over before I could stop them. "I'm so sorry for shooting you. I—"
He reached out, his hand gently cupping my face, thumb brushing away the traitorous tears. His touch was tender, grounding me back to the present where he was very much alive and with me. "Hey, look at me," he coaxed, his voice soft but insistent. "It's okay. You had no way of knowing. And here I am, unharmed."
I nodded, trying to draw comfort from his reassurance, yet the guilt remained, a stubborn stain on my conscience. Twice I'd pulled the trigger, and twice I'd seen him collapse, the agony of believing I'd killed my fated mate searing through me with a ferocity that left scars upon my soul.
"Forgive me," I managed to say between sobs, leaning into his embrace, seeking solace in the strength of his arms.
"Always," he promised, holding me close, his heartbeat steady against mine—a relentless reminder that we were both survivors in a world that demanded far too much from us. In his embrace, the doubts and fears that had haunted my morning began to dissolve, replaced by something stronger, something unbreakable—the certainty of us.
The warmth of his chest ebbed away as he propped himself up on an elbow, staring down at me with a rueful smirk. "You should know, I can't be killed by silver bullets," he said, the amusement in his voice stark against the morning stillness.
I blinked up at him, my thoughts sluggish, not fully catching up. "What?"
"Silver doesn't affect me." He brushed a lock of hair from my forehead. "Not like it would any other werewolf. And wolfsbane? I've been ingesting small doses all my life. It's... kind of like building an immunity."
"Immunity?" The word felt foreign on my tongue, and a cold anger started to simmer within me, displacing the remnants of guilt. "Why would you need immunity?"
"Perks of being the last true line Alpha." He shrugged, but his eyes were watchful, gauging my reaction.
"Perks?" My voice rose, sharp and incredulous. Anger flared hot and quick in my belly. "You let me believe I had killed you! For two months, I lived with that guilt, that pain. Why would you do that?"
His face softened, the edges of his playful demeanor melting away under the heat of my fury. "I thought—"
"No," I cut him off, sitting up and pulling the sheets tight around me as if they could shield me from more of his half-truths. "You thought wrong."
The room seemed to close in, the walls echoing back my thudding heartbeat. Every second of those torturous months flashed before my eyes—the sleepless nights, the endless questioning, the despair so thick it choked me. I'd mourned him, grieved for what I believed was my doing, and all along, he was out there, alive and untouchable by the very things that haunted my nightmares.
"Tell me," I demanded, my voice trembling with barely contained rage. "Why did you let me suffer like that?"
He reached for my hand, his touch gentle against the tumult raging within me. "I stayed away for you," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate with the pain I felt. "Your family's honor was at stake. The title... it means everything to your lineage. If I had returned any sooner, before the Rites Ceremony, it would've jeopardized your claim."
"Jeopardized?" I pulled my hand away, the motion sharp and sudden. My heart pounded, a wild rhythm at odds with the calm I struggled to maintain. "You let me live a lie that tore me apart from the inside out, all because of a title? How can you stand there and justify causing me so much anguish for something as trivial as a ceremony?"
"It's not trivial, not to your family." His eyes searched mine, imploring me to understand. "It's the foundation of your legacy. Without that honor, the respect your family commands would crumble. I couldn't allow that—not when I have the power to prevent it."
"Even if that meant sacrificing yourself?" My voice cracked, disbelief coloring every word. "You, an Alpha, willingly playing dead while I... while I..." I couldn't finish the sentence; the memory was a blade twisting in my gut.
"An Alpha's strength is not just in leading the pack," he said, stepping closer, a silent plea for me to see past my anger. "It's in knowing when to step back for the greater good. And you, my love, are my greater good. Your family's honor is now mine to uphold as much as it is yours. I did what I had to do."