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The Alpha’s Wrath
The Alpha’s Wrath
~Damon~
The car smelled like her.
Still.
Even with the windows cracked and the engine humming, her scent lingered on the leather like a f*****g
reminder.
My c**k was still sore from how good she sucked my d**k. My palm still tingled from how hard I grabbed her
hair.
The Bluetooth crackled, then connected.
“You’ve got three minutes,” I said, putting the salf on speaker as I adjusted the steering wheel and leaned back into the seat. My voice was clipped, controlled, sharp enough to draw blood. “Say something useful.”
The man on the other end stammered.
Of course he did.
“Alpha Damon–sir–we’ve received word that the Riker Pack’s West Guard has doubled in size overnight. They’re claiming it’s routine, but our scouts believe they’re planning a move–possibly a direct breach across the Redwood Creek line. And that’s not all. There’s-”
“I know what they’re planning,” I snapped, cutting him off. “They’ve been sniffing around my land like mongrels for weeks. Testing us. Testing me. But let me make one thing very clear, and I want you to repeat
this back to the council word for word.”
I paused.
Took a breath.
Let it settle.
Then spoke with deliberate, brutal calm.
“If Riker’s men so much as touch the trees on my side of the line, I will burn every single outpost they own to
ash. I will hang their scout leaders from their watchtowers and send their corpses back across the river tied
to silver stakes. I am not negotiating with dogs. If they want war, I’ll give them extinction.”
Silence.
Then a nervous breath. “Yes, Alpha. Of course. Should I alert the South Ridge pack to reinforce?”
I tilted my head.
“No. The South Ridge pack is made up of pups and merchants. They wouldn’t last a single night against
Riker’s wolves, and I’m not in the habit of sending sheep to do a lion’s job.”
“Yes, Alpha. I–I understand. Then I’ll call the East line-”
“Call no one,” I said coldly. “Not until I say. I want this to be my move, on my time. Let Riker believe I’m distracted. Let him assume I’m getting soft. Then, when he steps out of line, I’ll carve his name into the soil with his own spine.”
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Another silence.
A different kind now.
The kind that came when the people under you remembered exactly who the f**k you were.
“Yes, Alpha. I’ll await your signal.”
“Good,” I said. “Stay quiet. Stay sharp. I’ll handle the rest.”
P
The call ended with a quiet beep, and I exhaled through my nose, rolling my shoulders once, trying to shake the heat that was rising in my chest again–not from rage this time. From something else. Something warmer. Something more dangerous.
I turned my head slightly and saw it sitting on the backseat.
Light blue. Soft. Still wrinkled from the way she’d dropped it.
Her sweater.
My jaw ticked.
She must’ve left it when she was squirming across the seat this morning, trying to pull her skirt down and climb off my lap.
I stared at the sweater like it had insulted me.
She walked into that school without it.
Without anything to cover her. No extra layers. No protection. Just her heat–flushed skin, her soft Omega
scent, and that little f*****g skirt that barely covered her ass.
My fingers clenched around the steering wheel, and I felt that shift again–that prickling tension crawling up my spine. Not just annoyance. Not just jealousy. Instinct.
The kind that made my teeth ache.
The kind that made my inner wolf lift his head and growl.
I turned slightly, picked up the sweater, and brought it to my nose.
The second the scent hit me, I froze.
One hand on the steering wheel, the other gripping the soft sleeve of her forgotten sweater, and there it was-
her.
That sweet, sinful Omega scent that clung to everything she touched, everything she wore, everything she
was.
I brought the fabric closer to my nose, and the moment it brushed against me, I inhaled deeply without even meaning to. I needed it. I needed her. And just like that, everything inside me shifted.
“f**k,” I muttered under my breath, eyes closing for half a second. “I can’t believe I’m hard again.“,
I was. Hard as a goddamn brick, Just from the smell of her on this stupid piece of fabric. I’d already had her
this morning.
I ran a hand down my face, tried to get a grip.
“She’s going to freeze in that classroom,” I said aloud, more to myself than anything. “Wearing that damn
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skirt. No jacket. No shame. No clue what she does to people.”
I grabbed the sweater and stepped out of the car, locking the door behind me with one hand as I tossed the sweater over my arm. But the moment my boots hit the pavement, I stopped.
I lifted my head. Sniffed the air.
And there it was.
Her scent.
Stronger than before. Fresher. Raw. Radiating heat and slick and Omega arousal in a way that wasn’t just
lingering–it was blooming. Like a f*****g beacon.
“She’s in heat,” I muttered, chest tightening as the full weight of it hit me. “f**k. She’s in heat. Right here.
Right now.”
I turned toward the school building immediately, my body already moving, already tracking. But something felt off. It wasn’t just the heat in her scent–it was the way it danced with something else. A thread of male
energy. Not mine. Not familiar. Wrong.
The anger started deep in my gut and rose like smoke up my spine.
I tried to mindlink her immediately.
Kitten, I said through the link. Where are you? Can you hear me? Are you okay?
Nothing.
Lyra, I tried again, pushing harder, narrowing my focus, forcing my energy toward her. Talk to me. Now.
Still nothing.
I stopped just outside the front entrance, my hand clenching into a fist around the sleeve of her sweater. No response. No connection. Just a wall of silence where her mind should’ve been. Either she was blocking me, unconscious, or too overwhelmed to hear. None of those options sat well with me.
My legs were already moving before I realized it, storming through the double doors of the school building, eyes scanning every hallway, every corner, every student in uniform who didn’t matter. I was only looking for one thing–her. And the scent trail–gods, it was strong. Too strong. Like she’d been sweating, panting,
pressed up against something.
My eyes narrowed.
No. Not something. Someone.
I followed the scent around the corner, past a row of lockers, then deeper toward a side hallway I didn’t like the look of. Still nothing. No sign of her.
But the scent-
The scent was maddening.
It clung to the walls. It stained the air. And it was fresh. As if she’d just been here. As if she was still here. As
if someone had touched her. Marked her.
I clenched my jaw so tight I heard it crack.
“Where the f**k are you, kitten?” I growled low to myself, ignoring the few students who stepped out of my
The Alpha’s Wrath
way when they saw the look on my face. I was seconds from shifting, from letting the wolf take over and tear through this entire building.
Then I saw him.
The principal.
Standing near the main office, clipboard in hand, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose like he had no
idea he was breathing the same air as my Omega.
I marched straight toward him, ignoring the startled gasp from one of the teachers nearby.
“You,” I said, voice sharp and low. “Where is she?”
He blinked up at me, confused. “I–I’m sorry, who-?”
“My daughter’s best friend,” I snapped, stepping closer. “The Omega. Lyra. She was dropped off here less than thirty minutes ago, and I can’t find her. I need to know where the hell she is, and I need to know now.”
The man straightened slightly, sensing the danger radiating off me.
“I–yes, yes, she was marked present for first period, but-” He looked down at his clipboard, flipping through papers. “I don’t see a current location update from her teacher. Maybe she stepped out to the bathroom or-”
I didn’t wait for him to finish.
She wasn’t in the classroom.
She wasn’t answering my mindlink.
And her scent was thick enough to drive every unmated male in this building insane.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
And if I didn’t find her in the next sixty seconds, someone was going to die for even looking at her the wrong
way.
I passed the main hallway, turned down the narrow side corridor near the storage rooms–cold, unlit, mostly empty during school hours–and that was when I heard it.
A voice.
Male.
Young.
Arrogant.
Laced with so much filth I could taste blood on my tongue before I even saw him.·
“If you slap me one more time,” he growled from the shadows, the words disgusting and full of threat, “I swear to the f*****g Moon Goddess, I do not care who’s claimed you–I will bend you o
you learn how to behave.”
My entire body went still.
nd f**k you until
The hallway stretched in front of me like a tunnel. The air felt like fire in my lungs. I didn’t move, not yet,
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because I needed to be sure I heard what I thought I did.
And then–her voice.
Small. Shaky. So soft I almost missed it.
“Please don’t,” she whispered. “I beg you.”
My heart stopped.
My hands curled into fists so tight my knuckles cracked. For a single second, I forgot what century we were in. I forgot where I was. All I saw was red. All I heard was her voice–the desperation, the panic.
I moved.
I didn’t walk. I stormed forward, every step a declaration of violence. The lockers rattled from the force of my movement, my power vibrating through the floor as I turned the final corner–and then I saw him.
I saw him.
Standing too close to her.
Hand on her arm.
Body blocking her exit.
My girl–my Omega–was backed up against the wall, eyes wide with fear, skirt twisted, lips parted like she couldn’t even breathe, and his hand was still on her like he owned something.
Like she didn’t already belong to me.
My voice came out low and cold, rumbling from deep inside my chest like it had claws.
“Boy,”
He turned his head slowly, and the second his eyes met mine, I saw it.
The shift.
The terror.
The realization that whatever fun he thought he was about to have had just come to a violent f*****g end.
I didn’t stop moving.
I didn’t blink.
I didn’t give him a chance to explain.
“Get your hands off her,” I said through clenched teeth, my voice louder now, sharp and thunderous.
“Now!”
Royalty Writes
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