The alpha Awakening

Get out.”

Logan’s voice struck like a whip. His hands clenched at his sides, veins pulsing beneath his skin as if barely holding back something savage.

“Alpha, please—” Isabella’s voice trembled. She was still on the bed, clutching the sheet around her bare body, eyes wide with fear and confusion.

“I said get out!” he roared, his wolf’s voice bleeding through the words. The glass on the nightstand cracked from the vibration of his fury.

Isabella scrambled to her feet, dizzy and disoriented. The room spun around her, shadows and moonlight colliding. Every inch of her ached, and shame burned her cheeks. She stumbled as she tried to gather her torn dress from the floor, clutching it desperately against her trembling frame.

“I don’t know how I got here,” she whispered through tears. “I swear, Alpha, I didn’t mean—”

“Enough!” Logan snarled, turning his back to her. His heart was pounding too hard, his breathing erratic. He didn’t want to look at her — not because of anger, but because of the pull.

That strange, unbearable pull.

Her scent still clung to him — soft, warm, tinged with honey and something wild beneath it. It burned through his senses like wildfire, igniting instincts he had thought long dead.

His wolf — the one that had been silent for years — stirred restlessly inside him.

Mine, it growled.

No, Logan snapped inwardly. That’s impossible.

He forced his gaze to the window, staring at the cold silver moon as if it could silence the beast within him.

Behind him, Isabella fumbled with the doorknob. Her vision blurred by tears, she nearly fell before managing to open it.

“I—I’m sorry…” she whispered again, voice cracking. “I didn’t want any of this.”

Then she was gone — running barefoot down the hall, clutching the sheet around her.

Logan stood motionless for a long time after the door slammed shut. His entire body shook. He could still feel her warmth against his skin, the echo of her heartbeat against his. And the strangest thing — his chest no longer felt hollow. The ache that had haunted him since his curse… had lessened.

He gritted his teeth. “What have you done to me?” he muttered under his breath, but he wasn’t sure who he was speaking to — the girl, the Goddess, or the wolf inside him that had just awakened from a long, cursed sleep.

Isabella ran until her legs gave way.

She found herself in the servants’ quarters, collapsing beside the narrow bed that had been assigned to her. Her hands shook violently as she pressed them over her mouth, trying not to sob too loudly.

She couldn’t remember what happened — only fragments: a sweet smell, dizziness, darkness… then waking in the Alpha’s room, naked and accused.

“Goddess,” she whispered, curling in on herself. “What did they do to me?”

Tears soaked the blanket beneath her. She felt dirty, humiliated, ruined. No one would believe her if she said she was framed — who would dare accuse the Alpha’s own household staff?

Her chest heaved with quiet sobs until exhaustion dragged her into a restless sleep.

Morning light crept across the mansion like a secret.

Luna Clara was sipping tea in her private sitting room when she noticed one of the maids whispering near the door, glancing nervously toward the corridor.

“What is it?” Clara asked sharply.

The maid hesitated. “It’s… about the new girl, Luna. Isabella. She was seen leaving the Alpha’s chambers late last night.”

Clara’s teacup froze midair. “What did you say?”

The maid paled. “It—it may be nothing, Luna. But she looked… disheveled. Some of the others are saying—”

“That will be enough.” Clara’s tone cut her off immediately. She stood, setting her cup down with quiet force. Her heart clenched with dread.

Logan hadn’t allowed anyone into his room for months. If Isabella had been there…

Without another word, Clara swept from the room, her silver robe trailing behind her like mist. She found her son in the training yard, shirtless, striking the wooden dummies with vicious precision.

“Logan!” she called.

He paused mid-blow, his chest heaving, sweat glistening on his skin. “Mother,” he said curtly, not meeting her eyes.

“What happened last night?” she demanded. “I was told a maid left your room in tears.”

His jaw tightened. “She didn’t belong there.”

“You mean Isabella?” Clara’s eyes narrowed. “The girl I took in because you said we needed more help?”

“I didn’t call for her,” Logan snapped. “She was there when I returned — drugged or pretending to be. Half-naked in my bed.”

Clara’s hand went to her chest. “Dear Goddess…”

“I would’ve thrown her out immediately,” he continued, “but something—” he stopped, grimacing, as if even saying it aloud pained him.

Clara stepped closer. “Something what?”

Logan’s gaze turned distant. “My wolf.”

Her breath caught. “What about your wolf?”

“It woke me up.” The words were quiet, almost broken. “For the first time in three years.”

For a long moment, neither spoke. The training yard fell silent but for the rustle of the wind.

Clara swallowed hard. “Logan… are you saying that the curse—”

“—is weakening,” he finished for her, eyes flickering with silver light. “When she was near, I felt it. The silence broke. He… he howled, Mother. He called her mate.”

Clara’s lips parted in shock. “That’s impossible. She’s wolfless.”

“I know,” Logan growled. “And yet my wolf recognized her.” He slammed his fist into the wooden post beside him, splintering it in two. “Do you understand how insane that sounds? A wolfless orphan?”

Clara placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Perhaps it isn’t madness, my son. The Moon Goddess works in ways we do not understand.” “ I still don't believe this though.” She said.

He turned sharply to face her, anger and confusion twisting through his features. “Then why make her wolfless? Why curse me for years and give me her now?”

“Maybe,” Clara said softly, “because she’s the only one who can heal you.”

Logan’s breathing slowed, his eyes darkening as her words sank in.

Meanwhile, Isabella had woken late, her eyes swollen from crying. She forced herself to rise, wash her face, and put on her maid’s uniform. The last thing she wanted was to draw more attention to herself.

But whispers followed her wherever she went.

“Did you hear? The Alpha caught her in his bed.”

“She probably tried to seduce him.”

“Poor thing won’t last the week.”

Isabella kept her head down, clutching the basket of laundry against her chest. Every word stabbed like a knife.

By midday, Luna Clara found her folding linens in the courtyard. “Isabella,” Clara said gently.

Isabella froze, nearly dropping the fabric. “L-Luna,” she stammered, bowing quickly.

“Look at me, child.”

Isabella lifted her gaze, tears already burning at the corners of her eyes.

“I know something happened last night,” Clara said softly. “Tell me the truth. Did you willingly go to my son’s room?”

“No!” Isabella cried, shaking her head. “I swear, Luna, I didn’t. Someone gave me tea… and then everything went dark. When I woke up, I was there.”

Clara studied her face for a long moment. There was no deceit in the girl’s eyes — only fear and innocence.

“I believe you,” Clara said finally, her voice firm. “But you must stay away from my son for now. Whatever fate is at work here… it’s stirring too fast.”

Isabella nodded weakly, relief and sorrow mingling in her chest. “Thank you, Luna.”

As Clara turned to leave, Isabella’s knees gave out slightly. She pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling a strange warmth there — something she couldn’t explain.

Unseen by both of them, the moonlight shifted, casting a faint silver glow across Isabella’s skin.

That night, Logan stood alone on the balcony of his chambers, staring at the moon that had cursed and now seemingly mocked him. His wolf’s voice was a low, insistent hum in his mind.

She is ours.

“No,” he whispered, gripping the railing. “I won’t accept that.”

You already have, the wolf growled back. You felt it. The bond. The awakening.

He slammed his fist against the metal rail. “She’s a maid. A wolfless girl. I can’t—”

She woke me, the wolf cut in. No priest, no healer, no goddess’s blessing ever did. She did.

Logan closed his eyes, his pulse racing. Every breath carried her scent still — faint, lingering, impossible to

ignore.

And for the first time in years, the great Alpha of the Silver Crest Pack felt something that terrified him more than any curse ever had.

Hope.