CLAIMING HIS RELUCTANT LUNA

CHAPTER 3: THE UNSMILING ALPHA

Savina’s POV

My haze didn’t last for long.

A pair of rough hands brushed past the skin of my chest and pushed down violently.

Water rushed up from where it had clogged, slowly at first, then quickly. Breathing was difficult, something the man who saved me seemed to have noticed. Harder pumps followed, then a careless order to whoever stood with him.

Only nobles could speak with such authority.

Either that, or this man was as harsh as he was kind. But since I was somewhere between life and death, I couldn’t tell.

After a few more moments of pumping, the water licked at the base of my throat. Life surged through me suddenly, and the liquid escaped my mouth. I coughed painfully, the first gulp of air nothing less than a treasure to my lungs.

The arms around me tightened in support.

Without another thought, my eyes peeled open to meet eyes the color of molten silver. They were cold, too cold, holding a sharpness in them that made me cower beneath his gaze.

The man loomed over me, his presence commanding and intense.

A single scar, slicing from one brow across to his forehead, marred what was otherwise a devastatingly handsome face—darkly so, tempting and mysterious in every sense.

His brows were perpetually furrowed, and I was almost convinced on the spot that he was a man who never smiled, a man who has been hardened by battle scars and brutality.

Nonetheless, he easily embodied the kind of intensity and an aura of danger that could lure any woman into his dark web, unable to resist the secrets hidden behind those impenetrable silver eyes.

My heart raced for an unfathomable reason, and there was a weird itch within me.

My coughs had ceased, letting air flood freely into my lungs. Only then did I remember I was naked.

Quickly, I pulled away to sit on the bare grass, my cheeks red. Cold wind licked at my bare skin. I sat, knees hugged to my chest; it was my best attempt to cover most of me.

But even that was useless.

The strange man let his eyes run idly down my naked body. It wasn’t lust, nor interest, and I wasn’t expecting such an impenetrable man to be moved by the nudity of a strange girl in the woods.

Rather, irritation ghosted his attractive features.

“What are you doing here?” he spoke in a quiet voice, careful and deep, commanding yet dangerous - everything I should run from.

But damn, my breath hitched and every nerve in me hung on his last words, desperate to hear the next.

When keeping eye contact proved difficult, my gaze ran across to the men who stood with him. They were soldier wolves but not Hensen’s.

When I realized Mr. gray-eyes was the only one with a touch of nobility, I concluded they were his.

Finally, I remembered how to speak.

“I…I just want to die. I’m tired of running. There’s nowhere I know to go, nor can I go back. I’d love to correct that I am not a damsel in distress either. I most definitely didn’t need you saving me.” I gestured to the lake in front of us, just before meeting his gaze again.

It was difficult not to melt under the weight of it. One couldn’t tell what he was thinking even if you tried hard enough. He was like stone; strong and impenetrable.

There was something about his cutting glare and subtle irritation that placed me on edge.

Sighing, the nobleman came up to his feet, like he couldn’t stand another word from me. He had an almost menacing height that complemented his broad shoulders.

In all my life, I had never expected to see as much beauty in anyone except Leon.

When he spoke, it was yet another order he passed to no one in particular.

“Throw her in the cells for trespassing the borders.”

Almost out of impulse, I looked towards the road I had come from, shocked and confused.

“No, this has to be some kind of misunderstanding. I wasn’t trespassing…”

But the man was already stalking away as if my words held no weight.

The guards gripped me just as the order was made. For a leader whose presence held more authority than words could explain, I didn’t blame them.

***

A few days alone in the cold confines of the cell were enough to pick up a few things. It turned out the nobleman had a name after all. He was Heath Valsad, Alpha of the Bloodhound pack.

The name rang a bell in my mind; his reputation was known across the packs.

Heath Valsad’s name carried a weight far beyond the borders of the Bloodhound pack, marked by a bloodthirsty reputation for ruthlessness that was both feared and revered.

His lands were like an impenetrable fortress, veiled in mystery, secrets, ad for reasons unknown, locked away from the outside world. Those who dared trespass were never heard from again, their fates a stern warning to any who contemplated the folly of crossing him.

I’ve heard that Heath’s approach to justice was swift, his decisions final, embodying the kind of formidable leadership that compelled both respect and a wicked sense of dread.

He was an Alpha who must never, under any circumstances, be trifled with.

It explained why he’d locked me in here, starved for days. Patiently, I waited for the moment I died of hunger like he intended.

My stomach was a bag of butterflies, and not the good kind. The daily banter from the guards was all I had heard for days.

As much as it held little interest to me, I forced myself to listen. At least it was better than the memories that would fill my head if I didn't.

In the space of a few hours, I’d gone from the hands of Hensen’s guards to the bottom of the lake, only to be pulled out by a beautiful savior who then locked me up afterward.

All of this came from a friend’s weighty betrayal.

The memory of Sully’s head sent shivers through me; Ethan’s last growl still replayed in my head. It was almost unbelievable that letting Leon in on my identity would end with me seated on the cold, hard floor of some emotionless Alpha's cell.

The moon goddess wasn’t being very nice to me.

Heath had a second; a man with his own stories. His name was Pierce. Once, I heard a new soldier ask when Heath planned to make him his official Beta. Not that I cared, but what kind of Alpha doesn’t keep even a Beta?

Trust issues much?

It surprised me how a man so eager to save my life days ago now left me to starve in prison. Perhaps it was a punishment for attempting suicide. I couldn’t tell.

A guard had given me an old dress when I got in. It was the only attempt at clothing I had now.

Weakly, I stared up at the sound of hasty footsteps. People rarely approached my cell; it was something Heath had made sure of. But now, the footsteps weren’t the only new thing.

The soldiers had stopped their bantering and now whispered among themselves.

Slowly, I managed to come to my feet, in readiness for what—or more accurately, who—was to come. A large guard appeared from the bend and walked towards me. There was a hint of worry in his features.

What was this? Another execution?

“Buckle up, lass,” he said plainly, fiddling with the lock. “The Alpha wants to see you.”

I froze.

After that, he led me through darkly-polished hallways. The Palace had an ancient feel to it, with its walls reaching high into a dome-shaped ceiling.

Many times, I looked hard to find a blemish...anything at all that would make the place less perfect than it looked. Sadly, there was none, except myself.

Aside from my hunger, I still reeked of mud and sweat, and a little bit of salt, too.

The guard’s hold around me was stiff, but he didn't tug me on like most others would have. He seemed to register my weakness.

After one more flight of stairs, we reached a pair of silver-plated double doors. Sending me one last look, the guard pushed one door open and gestured me in.

His expression was pitiful, as if he'd just led me into a den of hungry lions.

I half expected the dark green theme to continue past the doors. Now, polished wood made up a good portion of the wall and furniture. The rich smell clouded my nostrils.

It was a courtroom, completely empty except for Heath, and who I assumed was Pierce. Their conversation paused as I walked in.

As if my discomfort wasn't enough, they weighed me down with their glares. Pierce was an intense-looking man who stood almost as tall as Heath himself. He had an aura around him; quiet, yet menacing.

Seated beside him was the devil himself, Heath Valsad, his unique scar piquing my interest.

I must have missed core details of his features in my haze. He had shoulder-length hair the color of coal, framing his chiseled face, giving a brighter glow to the steel-gray of his eyes.

Aside from the stubble on his jaw, the tan of his skin was flawless. In a few words, Heath Valsad was what one might call the epitome of devilishly handsome.

As I walked up close, he sent the guard away with a simple gesture.

Now, standing alone before an Alpha and his Second, I wondered why they'd sent for me. Perhaps to change the location of where I starve to death?

“Spies are mostly the feeble-looking ones, don't you think, Pierce?” Heath began. His attention, hardened by his dark gaze, remained on me while he spoke.

A spy? What would I be spying on at the bottom of a lake?

Pierce immediately answered, “Why don't we find out, Your Majesty?”

A bout of relief came with Pierce’s words, but it was only short-lived. The false ray of hope before the storm. Heath Valsad didn’t seem to agree, and he made it obvious with the lazy tilt of his head and tsking.

“I say we look past her vulnerable disguise and grant her the same fate as the others before her,” he said, his face stern yet marked by a nonchalant air.

Despite the wicked glint in his eyes, his expression remained unsmiling, almost bored—as if I was as insignificant as a bug.

The words brought a frown to my face. If he’d saved my life only to kill me with his own hands, then the rumors about him would all be an understatement.

I dared to speak; at least I tried to.

However, Pierce beat me to it.

“You have an entire folder for that, last time I checked. Mind being specific?”

“Hmm,” Heath Valsad leaned back against his seat, eyes fixed on me like a predator keenly watching its prey. “Molten lava. A pretty face like hers would burn beautifully.”

“W-what?” My jaw visibly dropped, and for a brief moment, I caught the humor dancing in the other man’s eyes.

“Easy now, Alpha.” Pierce smiled, clearly amused.

“I won’t hesitate to feed her to the wolves if I find a dent.”

What the hell was wrong with this man? But...he did call me pretty. Surely, not a lot of people have lived long enough to have the ruthless Alpha of the Bloodhound pack compliment them.

Pierce chuckled lightly and immediately refocused on me, cutting to the case.

“Who are you, and what were you doing across our borders?”

It worried me when they asked my name. I couldn’t afford to have anyone find me here, or discover my true roots as a Dwythe. They would kill me if they knew, just as everyone else wanted to.

“I’m Vina Connor, from the Moon Stone Pack. And no, I wasn’t sent here to spy on you. I…I ran away, only to end up here. If I knew I would be accused of trespassing, I might have looked for a place before the borders to drown myself.”

Pierce stifled a laugh, but Heath remained unmoved. He simply regarded me as though he could spot a lie if he looked deep enough.

“Why are you on the run?”

Another daunting question. It took a while to cook up another lie.

“I…I was sold to a nobleman when I was young. My master isn’t exactly who one would term merciful.” I paused, anxious.

Words were starting to fail me. They were lies I hadn’t practiced. When I sensed Alpha Heath’s irritation grow, a subtle tick to his jaw, I went on.

“A few days ago, I broke something of utmost importance to him, and he wants me dead for it. I can’t go back.”

His empty stare remained, completely unfazed. It was either he didn't believe me or he couldn't care less.

When I sensed it was the latter, I desperately added, “I just want to die. There's nothing left to live for!”

“If you truly wanted to die, you wouldn’t be running from whoever is chasing you,” Heath retorted, his lips tugged by a slow smirk.

It was a beautiful cruel little thing, yet...my heart skipped a fragile beat. That was the closest thing to a smile I’ve seen on the man.

I admitted to his point inwardly.

I had escaped the hungry jaws of Hensen’s wolves, only to subject myself to drown in the lake of yet another Alpha. There was no response in mind, so I said nothing.

Heath came to his feet steadily and descended the dais - slowly, predatory. His look was expressionless as he approached me, as intimidating and menacing as his height allowed.

I resisted the urge to cower or shuffle backward.

Sitting there at the top of his face was the dreaded scar with a story I had the urge to ask about.

Now, he was close. So close his scent was all I could sense. Heart racing, my weight shifted to one leg. In comparison with him, I felt like a bug, one he could squash easily without feeling a thing.

He stopped mere inches away from me, close enough to brush his lips against mine, and then he reached to touch my face. I flinched, but he'd clutched my jaw before I could move away.

His breathing was a sharp contrast to mine; steady and quiet. The heated bouts of it left goosebumps on my skin.

His eyes swept across my face painstakingly, taking in every little detail, perhaps committing it to memory. When he met my eyes—sharp and piercing, as if seeing right into my darkest secrets, into my soul—I could hardly breathe.

Something in me stirred—once, twice. It was thrilling, addictive, and maddening, as though the wolf in me would burst out at any moment. That would be another dress ruined.

The palm of his hand was oddly warm. His hold was firm but not too firm. Once again, the butterflies fluttered, except this time, it wasn’t hunger.

After tilting my face from side to side in inspection, Heath spoke in a lazy drawl, “Be careful what you wish for, Vina. I find I might have some use for you after all. However, if you convince me to endorse your death, you better not expect me to choose something as uncreative as drowning.”

My throat ached as I swallowed. Before fear of the man could make me melt, Heath let go abruptly and walked away without another word.

There, I gathered my breath, as well as my senses.

He was crazy, to say the least.

I thought back to the shameless reactions he’d elicited so easily from me with just a touch of his fingers.

When I was younger, Sully had performed a ritual to bind my wolf. I wasn’t sure why, but whatever it was, it was meant to keep me hidden from the eyes of Hensen. But since shifting was a trait of utmost importance, it was all I could do.

Once again, I spun around to watch him leave, wondering whether or not throwing me to the wolves was indeed more creative than drowning.

And if my wolf had been silent for all these years just to stir at the touch of my arrogant savior, it was obvious I wasn't the only one making bad decisions.