“I'm aware of that.” His lips curved down dangerously as he threw the dagger up once more and caught it seconds before it stabbed him.
I cocked an eyebrow at him, reaching out to yank the sharp objects mid flight before he could, but failed miserably. I knew I would, but a man had to try his luck. “Of what pack?”
“You know, most people would scurry to their knees in the presence of an alpha.” His eyes darkened as he placed one foot in front of the other, moving towards me. “I don't see how my pack concerns this.”
My feet moved on their own, taking a step back as I held his gaze deviantly. He might be an alpha but that didn't make me less worthy to be in front of him. “It's common courtesy to let those around you know that you're an alpha and of what pack you command, so they know when not to act out of line.”
“Courtesy like the one you showed minutes ago?” He feigned shock, as he finally let the dagger settle on his hand.
Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I noticed he had taken a step closer. The smell of citrus and wood enveloped me, clean yet earthy, like sunlight filtering through forest trees after rain. The alpha was right in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine as he raised a hand to the hood of my cloak. Part of the perks of being an alpha was the enhanced stealth ability, the ability to hide exactly what you were from others like you. It was rather unnerving to have experienced it from anyone besides my father.
My breath caught in my throat, as I jerked my head away and took a couple of steps back. I was sure he could hear the way my heart thumped restlessly. But nothing could explain the reason why the amount of sweat at the back of my neck had appeared, or why my palms were damp just being in his presence. He was overwhelming, the dark colour of his hair brushed against his sharp jaw as he dipped his chin down at me.
It started again. My heart, thumping hard behind my chest. A reaction that had never occured. I've had my own fair share of being in the midst of an alpha, so why did I feel this way? He didn't scare me, he didn't sc—
He can have the dagger, I'd just get another one. Pulling on my last thread of calm, I spun around, aiming to keep a huge distance between me and the male.
He was in front of me in an instant, I hardly caught his movement. His fingers grazed my chin, lifting my face to his as he pushed me into a corner. My heart skipped as I realized he'd trapped me.
This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening.
I swallowed a grunt as I let go of the thought to push him off me. He was stronger, more powerful. There was no way I'd be able to achieve that. So I did the next thing that came to my head. I brought my knee up, hard and fast, aiming for his groin.
“Although I'd like to see you try,” He caught my knee easily, without taking his eyes off me or breaking a sweat. “I won't make the mistake of underestimating you.”
There weren't many wolven who didn't underestimate me, giving me an easy leverage to fuck them up. Unfortunately for me, my luck seemed to have run out.
“Let. Me. Go.” The words came out laced with my growing annoyance and fury.
“You… are a fiesty little thing.” A small curve graced the corner of his mouth, enhancing his features and somehow making him look more menacing.
Fiesty? Little? Thing?
I was neither little, nor was I an object. My height was slighty below that of an average male wolven and I worked on my muscles and biceps everyday. I was a perfect mix of lean and bulky. Sure, my muscles were still smaller and almost feminine, I refused to take a comment on my features randomly by…some stranger.
The air surrounding us had gotten thicker, I could barely inhale without being overwhelmed with citrus and wood.
I narrowed my eyes as fury eroded panic. It took everything I had not to lash out at him. Strategy was far wiser than giving in to fury right now. I had to be tactical, find a way out of his grasp. Showing him how fiesty I could be wouldn't help keep me away from this unforseen and wildly comfortable position.
The alpha was quiet for a moment and then, he said darkly, the air chilling with every word. “What you saw today should be none of your concern.”
My mouth opened to speak but the look he sent me, the way his both eyebrows dropped low sent a wave of horror through me. “You did not see that.” He drawled, his thumb sliding along my jaw.
Air stilled in my throat at the unexpected and unfamiliar caress. My hood had slipped back in my struggle against his hold, leaving out a handful of pale blonde hair out in the open.
Pressing my lips together, I gave him a curt nod. The blade of my black and red dagger glinted from his waist band. It was part of three blades I fonded. In that moment, I promised I wouldn't leave here without it.
“Will you let me go now?” I demanded quietly, lifting my gaze from where it had drifted to his waist to his eyes.
The alpha raised an eyebrow up, a dark chuckle slipped from his lips. “How am I sure you won't make a very terrible life choice and do whatever it is that is running through that pretty head of yours?”
One shoulder lifted, as I stumbled upon the fact he'd called me pretty. I was annoyed, pissed and seconds away from a very terrible life choice. And I was also drawn to him, for some reasons unknown to me.
His head tilted, as his gaze swept over me. “I feel like I am making a very wrong decision doing this,” he said, pushing himself off me by an inch.
I dived in fast, reaching for the blade between his waist band and whiling it out. The alpha let out a heavy sigh as he noticed the red and black dagger in my hand. He looked undisturbed by the fact I had a dagger pointed at him.
“Easy.” He murmured, drawing his eyebrows down, “If I wanted you hurt you wouldn't be standing Soryn.”
I stiffened, at given name, at what I'd assumed to be a threat and also the fact I'd forgotten about Keyleth.
Gods, Keyleth. I'd left her with that motherfucker.
My eyes shifted to him as I watched him take some more steps back, going towards the other direction and away from me. The cloak he had on, floating before his feet. Telling him my name was a risk I didn't wish to take as he'd already seen the colour of my hair. But, the name he called me. I didn't know what it meant, and I needed to.
“What does that mean? Soryn?” I fixed the hood of the cloak on my hair, hiding the pale blonde some more.
“It's an old language of the gods, one some of my people managed to grasp or had descended to them.” I felt his breath on my skin, the way the surface tingled, with each step he took away. “It roughly translates to light, something beautiful, or a burning flame.”
—
She found me instead.
I'd barely turned away from the path that led to the grey building when Keyleth came running into me, hair wild and with a look that would set me aflame if she could.
“I genuinely think you're all talk.” She shoved some hair that had blown into her face, “You scared the shit out of me Oliver. I thought a boar or something swallowed you whole.”
“A boar?” I looked at her, incredulous. “Does the flame burning in my vein sound like some…low standard joke to you?”
Keyleth rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and nudged me. “You're not supposed to use that power or even talk about it.” She muttered, eyeing me from her thick lashes.
Ignoring her, my lips pressed together in a thin line, the memories of earlier coming back to me.
Soryn.
Something beautiful. A burning flame.
Did he know what…who I was? No. My head shook as I dispersed the thought. Asides the fact he'd seen the colour of my hair, he might only come to the conclusion that I was the next alpha of the Valeras pack.
Clenching my jaw and trying to fight off the doubt, I followed Keyleth back to the castle. The sound of crickets filled the dark night as we maneuvered our way through thick branches and tree stems that had fallen on the path.
Somehow we made it to Valeras.
“I am never giving into your invitations for an outing again.” I muttered, narrowly avoiding a toad that had hopped out of nowhere at me.
A soft chuckle escaped Keyleth's lips, her steps slowing as we walked further. We were barely a few feet from the castle gates when the sound of snapping twigs made us halt.
Keyleth’s hand brushed my arm, her eyes darting around the shadows.
“Oliver,” she whispered.
Torches flared to life, one after another, until the night itself seemed to burn. A ring of guards armed with swords stepped out from the darkness, armor gleaming beneath the flickering light.
Image belongs to me.
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