Feral Bonds: Claimed By Rogue Alpha Brothers

Evaline:

I stood outside River's room, staring at the dark wood of his door like it might bite me. My inner voice was screaming for me to just turn back and leave, pretend I never came here. This wasn't my problem.

And yet… here I was.

I let out a slow, reluctant sigh and lifted my hand, rapping my knuckles against the door. The sound was soft, almost hesitant. I waited, but instead of footsteps or a gruff "come in," the door creaked open slightly, as if it had been left unlatched.

Through the narrow gap, I could barely make out anything. The inside was dim as a single flicker of amber light danced in the darkness.

"Alpha?" I called, my voice steady enough, though my chest felt oddly tight.

Nothing.

I frowned, pushing the door open wider.

The room was hushed, shadows stretching over everything. My gaze caught on the lone candle burning on the bedside table, its soft light barely chasing away the gloom. The bed was neatly made… empty.

My brows drew together.

Where was he?

I walked slowly, my eyes sweeping over the corners, until I stopped near the closed bathroom door. Maybe he was in there. I listened, straining for the sound of running water. Nothing.

I knocked lightly. "River?"

Still no answer.

Another sigh left me, this one heavier. I turned to leave... only for my gaze to snag on a shape in the shadows near the bed. My breath caught sharply.

There was a figure... on the floor, with his back against the side of the bed.

My heart jumped hard against my ribs.

"What the hell-" I started, stepping closer.

It was River.

He was slouched against the bedframe, one arm lax over his bent knee. An almost empty bottle of wine was sitting beside him, while he was holding a half-filled glass in his other hand, the liquid catching faint light as he tilted it lazily.

The shock that hit me burned into anger before I could even think. I dropped to my knees in front of him and snatched the glass from his hand, the words spilling before I had time to soften them.

"What do you think you are doing?" I demanded. "You drank last night, you drank at lunch, and now you are sitting here, trying to see how much more your body can take? Are you trying to kill yourself with alcohol?"

Not a flicker of surprise crossed his face. He just watched me, silent.

That's when I noticed it.

His eyes.

They were... soft. Warm.

And the faintest ghost of a smile was tugging at his lips.

It stunned me so much I faltered mid-glare. I was used to River being sharp, commanding, a lot bit infuriating... but not this man who was looking at me like I was singing him a lullaby instead of scolding him.

I didn't like it.

Well… that wasn't true. I didn't know what I liked about it, but it left me feeling unsteady.

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my footing. "Listen, it were your brothers who asked... forced me to check on you," I said finally, crossing my arms. "I only came because I lost a stupid game, so don't read too much into this."

He nodded once. Just… nodded.

I stared at him, more thrown than I cared to admit. Who was this compliant version of River? Where was the fire, the bite in his tone?

The sensible thing would have been to leave. Let Oscar and Draven deal with him. But my legs refused to listen to the perfect suggestion of my brain.

"Why are you still drinking instead of resting?" I asked.

His answer was maddeningly casual. "Felt like it."

I blinked at him. "You need to get your head checked then."

That faint smile curved his lips again, and I frowned. "And stop smiling."

To my surprise, he actually did. His mouth straightened, but the softness in his eyes didn't fade.

I sighed again. I was going to wear my lungs out at this rate. "Come on. Get on the bed."

When he didn't move right away, I reached out, taking his arm and urging him up. He let me, his body warm and steady despite the alcohol. Once he was sitting on the edge of the bed, I grabbed the wine bottle and glass, setting them on the far side of the room where he couldn't reach them.

"You are going to drink this instead," I said as I picked up the glass and filled it with lemon water from the jug sitting on the bedside table and handing it to him.

He took it without a word, drinking while I pulled the blanket over his legs.

"Do you have any scented candles?" I asked, glancing at him.

He nodded toward the drawer.

I found a lavender one and swapped it with the plain candle. Almost instantly, the room got filled with a soothing scent and a subtle calm settled over the air.

Turning back to him, I crossed my arms again. "I'll ask the staff to bring you hangover soup. Drink it and sleep. Let your body recover."

Another obedient nod.

It should have ended there. But instead of leaving, I found myself lingering, watching the way the candlelight brushed across his face.

He was still looking at me - not like I was a nuisance, but like I was the only thing in the room worth noticing.

It made my chest feel strange.

Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet. "You are different when you are angry at me."

I blinked, unsure how to respond. "That's because you make me lose my calm just with your sheer presence."

He tilted his head slightly, almost amused, though he didn't smile. "And yet you stayed."

I hated that he was right.

I turned toward the door before I could think too much about it, telling myself I had done my part. But as my hand touched the handle, his voice reached me again... softer this time, almost vulnerable.

"Thank you, Miss Evaline."

It stopped me in my tracks.

For a moment, I didn't move. Then, without turning around, I said, "Just drink the soup," and left before I could lose the will to.

But the image of him on the floor, looking at me like that… it followed me long after I closed his door.