f*******n by the Alpha

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

The scent of charred earth and the distant echo of despair from the River Run pack taint the cool evening air as I stand beside Mark on the steps of our packhouse. The wildfire was fierce, but we were lucky—unlike the River Run pack, whose territory has been nearly destroyed.

The sky has dulled to a dusky lavender, stars timidly emerging like shy creatures. Our territory is a sanctuary of towering pines and open meadows, a stark contrast to the scorched land that now plagues our neighboring pack.

"Mark," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, "what if they have nowhere to go?"

He turns to me, his brown eyes softened by a rare vulnerability. "We offer them shelter," he states firmly, the Alpha in him rising with the moon. "No pack stands alone, Isla."

I nod, appreciating the strength that drew me to him despite the simmering tension between us—a mismatched pairing, orchestrated by duty over desire.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulls us from our reverie, and Alex emerges from the shadows, the last hues of twilight playing off his brown hair, casting a halo of warmth around him. His blue eyes meet mine, and something unspoken yet electric passes between us.

"Alpha Mark," Alex greets with a respectful nod before his gaze drifts back to me. "Isla."

"Alex," I reply, my voice steady even as my pulse quickens. It's the first time we've spoken, and already words seem inadequate to express the undercurrent of intrigue that swirls around us like the gentle wind whispering through the pine needles.

"Your pack is welcome to stay with us," Mark says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We will accommodate you for as long as necessary."

"Thank you, Alpha," Alex responds, but his eyes linger on me, searching, questioning.

"I’ll show them to the guest quarters," I suggest, eager to break the intensity of Alex's gaze. I lead the way, aware of his presence behind me, a magnetic pull I'm not supposed to feel.

"Have you been to this part of the forest before?" I ask, glancing over my shoulder at Alex. “I mean, before you came to the—my wedding.”

"Only once, years ago," he replies, his voice smooth and confident. "It's more beautiful than I remember."

"Nature has a way of healing itself," I say, gesturing to the thriving greenery around us. "Just like us."

"Is that what we're doing? Healing?" There's a depth to his question that tugs at something deep within me.

"Always." The word slips out before I can stop it, laced with a hopefulness I didn't realize I still harbored.

"Good to know," Alex says, and there's a smile in his voice that makes my heart beat faster, a dangerous rhythm against the cage of my rib.

As we reach the guest quarters, I fight the urge to look back at him, to seek out those blue eyes that seem to see right through me. But I am the bride of the Alpha, bound by loyalty and duty.

"Make yourselves at home," I announce to the River Run pack, trying to sound more like an Alpha's mate and less like a girl whose world just tilted on its axis.

"Thank you, Isla," Alex says, and his gratitude feels like a warm blanket on a cold night.

"Of course," I manage to say, shifting my gaze to the ground, afraid of what might happen if I dare to meet his eyes again.

The River Run wolves filter into the quarters, their weary bodies moving with the kind of exhaustion that comes from loss and displacement. I stand at the threshold, my role clear as Mark’s bride, yet my mind is a tumultuous river threatening to flood its banks.

"Let me know if you need anything," I say, my voice steady despite the tremor in my limbs.

"Will do," a voice responds from behind me, and I don't have to turn to know it's Alex. There's something about his presence, a magnetic pull that I can't seem to resist.

"Thank you, Isla," he adds, and it takes all my willpower not to look back.

"Think nothing of it," I reply, my words feeling hollow. It's then that I notice the others have all dispersed, leaving us momentarily alone in the quiet hallway.

"Actually, I do think something of it." His tone is earnest, footsteps closing the distance between us. "You've been gracious to us, given the circumstances."

"Compassion isn't circumstantial," I answer, trying to sound like the Alpha female I'm supposed to be. But my heart races, betraying my composure.

"Perhaps not, but kindness is a choice. And I appreciate yours." His gratitude washes over me, an unearned accolade for a simple act of decency.

"Anyone would have done the same," I deflect, finally daring to meet his gaze. The blue of his eyes holds stories untold, secrets that beckon me closer.

"Maybe," he concedes with a shrug, "but not everyone is you."

My breath catches at the implication, the subtle undercurrent of something more. I should walk away; I should end this conversation that dances dangerously close to lines we shouldn't cross. But I’m rooted to the spot by the intensity of his stare.

"Alex..." I start, unsure of what I'm going to say, only to be silenced by the soft touch of his hand on mine.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to—" He withdraws quickly, the warmth of his touch lingering like a ghost on my skin.

"No, it's... It's not your fault." I take a step back, but his proximity has already woven a web around me. "I just..."

"Hey, Isla!" Mark's voice cuts through the air, sharp and commanding. My husband's approach snaps me back to reality, reminding me of the vows I made, the pack I swore to support.

"Coming!" I call out, tearing my eyes away from Alex. The guilt settles in my stomach like a stone, heavy and cold.

"See you later," Alex says, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips, as if he understands the silent storm within me.

"Later," I echo, my voice barely above a whisper.

As I walk toward Mark, his arm wrapping possessively around my waist, I force myself not to look back. But the connection, that unexpected spark with Alex, lingers in the air, a question left unanswered, a path unexplored. My heart aches with a guilt that twists and turns, a serpent coiling tightly around my conscience for feeling drawn to another, especially now when solidarity should be my only concern.

Each step away from Alex feels like a betrayal to my own desires, yet stepping closer to Mark, I am reminded of the duty that binds me. The conflict within is a silent scream, echoing the turmoil of my conflicted soul.