Command of the True Alpha

Fueled by sheer panic and a stark refusal to submit to this arrogant prick, I wrench my arm out of his iron grasp. The sudden movement sends a sharp, searing pain ripping through my shoulder joint, but I ignore the burn. I take off sprinting across the open grass. My heavy boots pound against the uneven dirt. I run blindly, pushing my failing body forward until my calves and thighs feel like they are made of fire. The terrifying, guttural snarls of the advancing hunt rapidly close in from all sides, echoing through the evening air.

My lungs heave, desperate for oxygen. Every step is agony. I wonder how far I can make it before my legs give out. The metallic scent of blood and wet fur fills my nose. They are right behind me. Just as my physical energy runs dry and the massive beasts prepare to pounce on my back, a cold, deep velvet voice booms across the chaos. It cuts through the air like a crack of thunder.

"Enough."

The effect is instantaneous. The charging wolves halt in their tracks, their massive bodies forced directly to their knees. The sheer, suffocating, crushing weight of the spoken command presses the air out of my own lungs, dragging me down to the dirt. I cover my ears as a sharp ringing echoes inside my skull. Some of the beasts whine, their snouts pressed into the grass against their will.

I lift my head. Striding across the dark field is a tall man dressed in sweeping, elegant maroon robes. The fabric glides over the grass as if he is floating. His hair falls in long, dark waves around his sharp jawline. As he steps closer, I see his pale, almost translucent white eyes scanning the chaotic scene. He radiates immense, ancient power. It is a heavy, suffocating pressure that rolls off his skin in waves. I recognize that aura instantly. It is the exact same undeniable pressure my mother carries.

He is a True Alpha.

One of the shifted wolves beside me reverts to human form. He stands up, though his bare limbs tremble under the crushing weight of the man's presence. "Professor Lunaris," the student stammers, his voice cracking. He gestures to the kneeling pack, desperate to justify the hunt. "We were just partaking in this year’s hunt. It is a long-standing school tradition, we didn't mean to—"

"Do not speak to me of tradition," the Professor cuts him off. His velvet voice is colder than ice. "I, too, attended Alpha Academy."

Lunaris turns his pale gaze downward, staring intensely at my battered, dirt-covered form.

"What I didn't do," he says smoothly, "was pick on the wolfless."

"But she was the weakest!" another wolf-turned-human protests from the shadows. "And Kaelar—"

"Mr. Moonforge will be compensated for his troubles this year," Lunaris replies, his jaw tightening. He sweeps a hardened, furious glare over the kneeling pack. "The rest of you are dismissed to your afternoon classes. Now."

The pack whimpers. Without another word of protest, they scramble away into the darkening shadows, their massive paws thudding against the grass until the field falls silent.

Lunaris looks down at me. Up close, he does not look much older than I am, but the ancient power he carries makes him feel timeless. "Thank you," I breathe out, my chest still heaving.

He offers no reply. Wordlessly, he turns on his heel and strides toward the large stone admissions building. He pauses just once, glancing over his shoulder to ensure I am following. I push myself up from the dirt, my joints protesting, and hurry across the grass to keep up with his long strides.

He leads me through the grand, dark oak hallways until we reach a heavy wooden door marked 'HEADMASTER'. Pushing it open, he ushers me into a grand office lined with thick bookshelves and heavy wood-paneled walls. Without a single word of explanation, he walks behind his massive desk and silently slides an old, heavy rotary phone across the polished wood toward me.

"For you," he murmurs.

I furrow my brows, staring at the ancient device. I reach out with bruised fingers and pick up the heavy receiver. "Hello?"

"Rhea!"

It is Cordelia. Great. Exactly what I need after fighting for my life all day.

"Cordelia—er, Your Highness," I correct myself, catching Professor Lunaris’s unreadable gaze across the desk.

"You shouldn't need such formalities," Cordelia says smoothly through the static. "Cassian is an old family friend."

I glance at Professor Lunaris. He sits perfectly still, his pale eyes locked on my face. "Right," I drawl, leaning back in the plush leather chair.

"So, how was your first day?" Cordelia asks, her tone light and conversational.

I let out a harsh breath, rubbing a dirt-stained hand over my exhausted face. "Well, let's see. I failed the physical run. Missed the mark by a quarter of a mile. Then I accidentally threw a mustard-covered sandwich at an Alpha heir. That started the hunt, where a pack of angry wolves chased me across campus trying to tear my throat out. Professor Lunaris just saved me from being ripped to shreds." I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "So, eventful."

Instead of maternal concern, Cordelia merely laughs softly through the receiver. "My Gods. You certainly are my daughter, causing such a commotion on your very first day."

"I am sure your commotions were much more positive than mine," I grumble, picking at a tear in my pants.

"Well, yes. The princess-heir starting her education at a different school than her mother was scandalous enough," she muses. We sit in a tense silence for a few seconds before she pivots directly to her real, political agenda. "Have you met any of the fiancé candidates yet?"

I scoff loudly into the receiver. "Unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?" Cordelia echoes, her tone shifting. "Oh goodness, the sandwich."

"The sandwich," I confirm. "Though I think Ares was more angry that I cut him with my nails during sparring than the fact that I spilled mustard on his shirt."

"You cut him?!" Cordelia’s voice spikes with raw panic. I have never heard her sound so unnerved. "Oh, heavens above! What on earth prompted you to do that?"

"He was being a dick!" I snap, my anger flaring. "He was relentlessly pummeling me into the ground during Basics! He called me worthless and used my wolfless state as an excuse to beat me into the dirt!"

Cordelia releases a sharp sigh. "All of this would not have happened if you had just chosen a suitor."

"Well, I am glad I didn't!" I yell back, not caring that Lunaris is listening to every word. "They are arrogant and cruel. They think the entire earth revolves around them just because they can shift."

"They are High Pack Alphas, Rhea!" Cordelia urges desperately, her voice dropping into a dark warning. "Wolfstrom and Moonforge are the strongest bloodlines. Their names alone demand respect. You desperately need their political and physical protection."

"That is stupid! So what, I should just change my last name to Luna and start fighting everyone who looks at me wrong?"

"You could," she counters softly. "It would make your schooling much easier. They would fall at your feet instead of hunting you." She pauses, the line crackling. "You must choose one of the suitors before you reveal yourself. For your safety. Dangerous political enemies will use your wolfless state to get to the throne if you are not formally claimed by a powerful mate."

"Safety?" I snort, gripping the receiver so tight my knuckles turn white. "Because people will try to use my body to steal the crown?"

"Precisely. I promise you, the men I selected are valuable and honorable candidates."

"Valuable and honorable, my ass!" I snap loudly. Across the desk, Professor Lunaris’s pale eyes widen slightly at my outburst. "They are arrogant and pretentious. I do not need them for safety, and I will graduate from this stupid school without the Luna name!"

Furious at her manipulation, I slam the heavy phone down onto the receiver. The loud clatter echoes off the wood-paneled walls.

I look up. Lunaris slowly raises an elegant, inquisitive eyebrow at my deeply disrespectful tone toward the Queen.

"Do you always speak to your mother in such a tone?" he asks, his voice smooth.

I cross my arms over my chest, slumping back into the chair. "She left me to rot in an abusive orphanage for eighteen years. Cordelia deserves my wrath."

The Professor hums quietly. He leans back in his seat, slowly pressing his long, elegant fingers to his lips. He studies my face with a piercing gaze. "Your mother explicitly tasked me with personally keeping an eye on you," he reveals softly. "That is why I intervened on the field. Given your temper, can I assume I will have to do that a lot?"

I roll my hazel eyes. "If everyone else just leaves me alone, you won't have to."

"So, yes then?"

"Most likely," I admit dryly.

The suffocating weight of his ancient aura is starting to make my skin prickle. Desperate to escape the heavy tension in the room, I stand up and turn toward the exit. I march across the plush carpet. Just as my hand wraps around the brass doorknob, a large hand suddenly shoots out past my shoulder.

His palm presses flat against the heavy wooden door, slamming it shut.

I gasp, my breath catching in my throat. I spin around, my back hitting the solid wood. Lunaris steps in, closing the distance until he is standing a mere inch from my body. He completely traps me between his broad chest and the door. I am forced to tilt my head up to look at him.

I am instantly lost in his pale eyes. Up close, I can see beautiful gold flecks scattered across his irises, framed by thick, dark lashes. The royal, intoxicating power rolling off his skin wraps around me, making my head spin and my pulse hammer in my throat. The scent of rain and old parchment fills my senses.

"Try to keep your head down," he murmurs softly, his deep voice vibrating in the narrow space between us. His warm breath fans across my flushed face. "For both of our sakes."

I swallow hard against the sudden, thick tension. My eyes lock deeply with his mesmerizing gaze. "I can make no promises," I whisper back. "Trouble seems to follow me."

"That it does," he muses.

He slowly backs away just a fraction, breaking the intense proximity. He reaches past my hip and turns the brass knob, opening the door slightly. His pale, gold-flecked eyes still hold mine hostage.

"Princess," he says softly.

"Professor," I reply, a strange, undeniable heat rushing into my cheeks.

The quiet, intimate moment is shattered in a split second. A rough, irritated voice echoes from the cold stone hallway right outside the cracked door.

"Princess?" the voice barks.

I snap my head up in terror. Leaning casually against the cold stone wall, directly in front of the office door, is Ares. His white shirt is still stained with mustard, and his glowing golden eyes are narrowed into dangerous slits.

I'd been caught.