{Third Person}
The Alpha Prince stepped fully into view. He was tall, taller than most men in the Human clan. His build was lean and powerful, the kind of strength that did not need exaggeration.
Raven-black hair brushed his shoulders, smooth and untamed, threaded through at the front with streaks of white that looked neither aged nor accidental. They only made him more striking and dangerous.
He was devastatingly handsome in a way that felt wrong to admire.
Alexander offered the Queen nothing more than a barely perceptible nod, exempting himself from bowing or greeting her. The slight alone was deliberate.
Queen Lysandra's fingers tightened against the arm of her throne. "You arrive unannounced in my territory," she said sharply. "Do you find that acceptable?"
Alexander's gaze flicked to her, cool and indifferent. "Is there a problem with my presence?"
He did not wait for her answer as he added flatly, "This is the palace's receiving hall. Not your private domain."
The Queen's jaw clenched as she stared angrily at him. Aside from his looks, his mouth was the next second thing she despised most.
Despite his slight, she swallowed her fury, schooling her expression even as hatred burned behind her eyes.
'One day, I will tear that tongue from his mouth with my own hands,' she promised herself.
"I am still Queen," Lysandra said coldly. "And I remain above you. Mind how you speak."
Alexander scoffed. "Anyone who needs to constantly remind others that she is Queen," he said calmly, "is no Queen at all."
"Alexander!" Lysandra's composure cracked, her expression twisting with fury as the insult rang through the hall—heard by servants, guards, and worse, the human girl.
Amara's neck ached as she kept her head bowed, her pulse pounding while the air grew hostile.
She couldn't see the confrontation, but she felt the violence coiling between them. And one thing was very clear to her: these two were enemies, heading down separate paths.
"You have no right to address me so casually," Queen Lysandra snapped.
Alexander's voice dropped. "You have no right to call me by my name."
His words silenced the hall. Then, as if the Queen were no longer worth his attention, he continued evenly, "If you have nothing else to add, I will be taking my leave."
Lysandra seethed, her lips pressed tight as blood rose to her face. Alexander gave her another minimal nod, one of pure mockery, then turned.
Without warning, his hand closed around Amara's wrist and yanked her forward, leaving her no time to react or refuse.
---
Amara gasped as Alexander pulled her in a firm grip without sparing her a glance or seeking her consent.
He was already striding away, her feet scrambling to keep up as fear and shock twisted in her pounding chest.
Even if she wanted to resist, she wouldn't have dared, as she had no desire to stay with the Queen. Though between the two monsters she faced, she was claimed by the more terrifying one.
The moment they stepped outside the hall, Alexander released her hand.
The sudden absence made Amara almost stumble before she steadied herself. Then, he turned immediately, a frown already creasing his brow as he directly looked at her.
"Lift your head." His voice was low and commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.
Slowly, she raised her head, and their eyes met.
Alexander studied her openly. Blue eyes. Chestnut hair. A face undeniably beautiful. She wasn't small either—not short or thin in a way that suggested frailty. She was human, but she carried herself with restraint rather than submission.
Amara, however, could not bear to look at him for long after seeing him clearly. His appearance was devilishly handsome. His features were chiselled, stern, and captivating. And his golden eyes were too intense.
So, after barely three seconds, she looked away.
"If I hadn't arrived in time," Alexander asked coolly, "would you have drunk that tea?"
The question caught her completely off guard. She hesitated, not knowing what answer he expected.
Seeing her silence, Alexander merely turned away, scoffing lightly under his breath. Amara pursed her lips, resisting the urge to question what he meant by that. In the end, they boarded separate carriages towards the Alpha Prince's residence.
---
Alexander did not wait for Amara. Once they had arrived, he had retreated to who-knows-where in urgent steps and a hand placed on his chest, and Amara was left standing alone at the entrance.
In the end, it was the leader of his personal guard who stopped to give her directions.
The servants had moved her minimal belongings, and Amara was finally shown to the room she would eventually live and die in.
"Would you like dinner prepared after you refresh yourself?" A middle-aged servant asked her.
Amara shook her head immediately. "No. Thank you."
Truthfully, Amara had no appetite. And even if she did, she doubted she could trust anything these werewolves placed before her.
As soon as the servant left and the door shut, a heavy silence settled around Amara.
She stared at the unfamiliar bed and thought of the unfamiliar life waiting for her here.
Her eyes burned as tears threatened to spill, but she inhaled sharply and lifted her chin, forcing them back.
There was no one left to rely on. From now on, she had only herself.
By the time Amara finished washing and changed into her nightwear, the sky outside had become completely dark, and exhaustion heavily weighed on her limbs.
She locked her door firmly and turned off the main lights, leaving only the bedside lamp glowing faintly before slipping under the duvet.
The moment her head touched the pillow, a loud, piercing howl shattered the silence. Instantly, she shot upright.
Her heart slammed violently against her ribs as she looked around the dim room. The sound had been close.
Then it came again, this time, longer and clearer.
Her blood ran cold as she realized it was a wolf. Goosebumps erupted across her skin. Without thinking, she dropped back onto the bed and pulled the duvet over her head like a shield, her breath shallow and uneven.
Her mind raced wildly. 'Was it him? Was the Alpha Prince… shifting? Was he somewhere nearby?'
Amara lay frozen beneath the covers, listening. The howling continued in the distance, echoing through the night like a warning.
Eventually, when the sound stopped, exhaustion overpowered her fears, and slowly, sleep claimed her.
---
A while later, warm breath brushed against Amara's face. She stirred slightly. The air felt strange—stifling and heavy.
Just then, her eyes fluttered open. Alexander was sitting on the edge of her bed. His eyes were no longer gold. They were red, glowing faintly in the dim light.
For a moment, she couldn't move or breathe. His face looked almost the same, except there was something feral beneath it, something watching her like the way a wolf watches its prey.
Then, she tried to push herself up, but his cold fingers shot forward and wrapped around her throat. A gasp tore from her lips. She clawed at his wrist instinctively, her legs kicking against the sheets as panic exploded in her chest.
But none of that stopped him. Instead, he leaned in so close she could feel his breath on her cheek and stared deeply into her eyes.
"Shh."