The Alpha of the 13th District

A ruined temple in the heart of the Wyrm Forest.

The night was cold.

Stars peeked through the cracks in the roof, as if watching them from the heavens.

Silence blanketed the surroundings.

No wind stirred, no rustle in the trees.

It was as though even the forest had learned to fall silent in Asher's presence.

Kiera lay at the edge of the shattered altar, her body drenched in sweat, covered in wounds, and struggling to breathe.

The stones beneath her back were cold-but that wasn't the part that hurt the most.

It was her chest-that was torn.

Asher sat beside her.

His knees were bent, and the shadows clinging to his skin danced like smoke-shifting, pulsing.

The power Asher awakened earlier had not completely faded.

He touched Kiera's arm.

Gently. Full of tenderness. As if every movement was a silent prayer not to let her break.

But as he looked at the woman lying on the cold stone, a fear rose in his chest-not one born from looming danger in the forest, but from the monster inside him.

What if the day came when the darkness within him awakened again?

How could he protect the woman who had become his only light-if he himself was the fire that could consume it all?

He tightened his hold, just slightly. As if through that single touch, he could make a promise-That he would never leave again.

And in the stillness, Kiera stirred.

Her eyes slowly fluttered open.

And upon seeing Asher's face-she immediately pulled away.

"Don't touch me," she breathes.

Her voice wasn't angry. Nor afraid.

It held pain. And a question.

Asher froze.

He didn't know if he should pull back or stay.

"You're not just mine, Asher," Kiera said, her voice cold. "You're theirs now-and what they love isn't you. It's the darkness inside you."

Asher shut his eyes.

He wanted to answer. To explain everything.

But how do you explain something you never asked for?

He took a deep breath.

He tried to pull the light-the control-back into himself, but the shadows on his skin seemed alive refusing to let him go.

"I didn't choose this curse," Asher said, his voice shaking. "It chose me. Took me before I even understood what it was."

He knelt beside her, placing his palm on the ancient, broken stone.

"I was made, Kiera. Made from ashes and anger. I didn't survive the massacre. I awakened because of it."

Kiera said nothing.

But Asher's tears fell freely from his eyes.

Not out of fear.

Not out of rage.

But frustration.

"Then why..." she breathed, her voice cracking, "Why did it feel like I lost you? Just for a second-when your rage took over, I felt the bond... break."

Asher's world stopped.

He looked at Kiera, but he couldn't bring himself to look back.

His eyes were shut, and tears streamed silently down his cheeks.

"Like it wasn't you anymore. Like something inside you... took over."

"The more I use my power," Asher whispered, "the less of me I keep."

Kiera nodded, even though she wasn't sure if Asher could still hear her.

Her body was heavy.

Her wounds came not only from battle-but from truths being kept from her.

Silence returned.

The shadows slowly began to fade.

The moonlight peeked through the shattered roof.

Suddenly, Kiera felt dizzy again. Her vision spun.

"Asher..." she murmured weakly, just before losing consciousness again.

Asher caught her just in time.

For a moment, he just held her-arms trembling, breath shallow-as if afraid she'd slip through them.

You won't hear any of this, he whispered, brushing back the damp hair clinging to her forehead.

Maybe that's why I can finally say it now.

He bit his lip, his gaze tracing every curve of her sleeping face-so peaceful, so distant, yet still the only place he ever felt at home.

Maybe it wasn't me you were meant to love-only the bond that tied our souls. But if my fate was written in blood... does that mean I was always meant to hurt you?

He lowered his forehead to hers, gently-just enough to feel her warmth. Just enough to break.

But even with everything broken inside me... even with the monster I've become...You're still the only reason I want to survive.

Silence wrapped around them like fog, soft and suffocating.

If you wake up and all that's left between us is silence... then maybe that's all I deserve. But I will never stop choosing you.

He held her tighter.

Stay with me, Kiera... even for a while. Whatever comes after, just one moment to love you before everything breaks and tears us apart, he pleaded, voice hoarse, as though each word was carved from a wounded heart.

In Asher's arms, Kiera was a dream he refused to let slip away.

With tenderness, he looked at her peaceful face-the woman who taught him how to love, even when his heart only knew how to break.

Gently, Asher brushed his thumb across her cheek, as if trying to memorize every fleeting second they still had.

I never asked for anything else, he whispered, barely audible. Only a moment in your arms-even if it costs me everything...

In the quiet of the night, the only sound was the beating of their hearts.

And in the quiet between breath and hope, Asher held on to the only woman who made him believe that even those forged in darkness could still be worthy of love.

Asher stepped out of the temple, carrying Kiera.

And the moment his bare feet touched the earth, the forest stirred.

Not out of fear.

Not in warning.

But in reverence.

The roots curled away. The leaves parted. The mist retreated.

It was as if the earth itself recognized Asher.

As if they feared him.

Still carrying Kiera, Asher kept his eyes locked on the path ahead-toward the next trial that awaited.

He walked in silence.

But under each step he took, the shadows he once left behind... no longer followed.

They led the way.

Beside Wyrm Forest, Just Before Dawn.

The mist crept along the ground like a ghost.

Asher walked in silence, carrying Kiera. The sky was still dark, but a smear of gray already stretched in the east.

Just a little longer and the sun would rise—but under these shadows, it felt like no light could pass between them.

Asher stepped forward, slow, careful.

He looked at Kiera, who was still unconscious.

The blood on her clothes had already dried. And her skin had begun to grow cold.

He pressed her against his chest to give her warmth. He was afraid that if he didn't keep her body close, she might disappear completely.

But with every step, it felt like something was slicing through his chest.

Kiera's weight didn't weigh on his body—but on his heart.

He couldn't stand seeing her hurt, because every time she suffered, it was like a blade carving into his soul.

They reached a ruined temple—hidden beneath roots and branches, as if swallowed by time.

It was built of old, gray stone.

There were shattered statues of wolf gods, runes devoured by moss, and a broken altar at the center.

But there was something about this place.

It was too quiet.

Not safe enough for even a short rest.

Asher entered, stepping over broken marble tiles, and gently laid Kiera down on a high platform, once used by ancient alphas to offer flowers in sacrifice.

As he laid her down, Kiera stirred.

From the void, her eyes slowly opened—just barely.

Her breath was weak, like she was only breathing because she still had a reason.

Her eyes landed on Asher.

"You're not supposed to look at me like I'm worth saving." Her voice was low. Full of pain, but tinged with bitterness.

Asher froze. He could barely meet her gaze. Not because he didn't want to—But because he was afraid.

Afraid of a shadow he could no longer restrain, of the power awakening inside him like a beast.

Afraid he might hurt Kiera—and if that ever happened, he'd never forgive himself.

Kiera touched his neck.

She suddenly shivered, the cold sinking deep into her trembling body.

Silence reigned for a moment.

No Alpha.

No Luna.

No war.

No duty.

Only two lost souls.

Facing each other amid the ruins.

Slowly, Kiera looked up.

Asher leaned in toward her.

He took her hand.

Her palm was cold, her lips pale.

She could feel his breath ghosting against her mouth—warm, trembling, almost begging.

And just when their lips were about to meet—Asher pulled back.

Not far.

But just enough to freeze the world between them and sever the fragile connection.

Kiera's heart dropped.

"Why…?" she whispered, barely a breath.

Asher clenched his jaw.

"Because something inside me growls in warning."

Silence.

They both listened to her heartbeat—fading with every breath, like time was running out inside her chest.

Asher stood.

He moved away slightly. And at the stone wall of the temple, he whispered in a language—not his own, but coursing through his blood.

Words he didn't mean to speak, but surfaced whenever the weight became too heavy.

The language of the Fae.

Ancient.

Dangerous.

"Vetheran sull'daan khera'mon."

As soon as he uttered it, the branches at the temple's window recoiled.

As if the trees themselves had flinched.

As if they refused to listen.

Kiera remained silent, leaning against the cold altar, watching him.

She heard what Asher said.

She knew that something in the shadows was calling to him—and even Asher didn't yet understand what kind of monster walked beneath his skin.

"Every time I feel peace…" Asher whispered, not looking at her,

"…something in me remembers I wasn't made for it."

Inside the old sanctuary.

Midnight.

Moonlight spilled from the broken stained glass above, touching the shattered altar.

In the middle of the darkness, a blue flame flickered—strange in its coldness and light.

Kiera awoke to the quiet crackle of fire.

Her body was still heavy, and the wound on her side still ached.

But the first thing she noticed was Asher sitting across from the flame.

He said nothing. Didn't move.

His eyes were fixed on the fire, but his hands were trembling.

Not from the cold. But from restraint.

Kiera shifted, leaning against the stone.

When Asher heard her movement, he turned at once.

"You're awake..." his voice was soft.

Kiera nodded, slowly sitting up, watching him beneath the moonlight.

"Why do you look like kissing me would kill you?"

Asher froze.

He didn't know how to answer—or if he even could.

He lowered his head.

His fingers curled, as though strangling something inside him.

"Because every time I get close to you…" He stopped. Didn't look at her.

"It wakes up."

Kiera was silent.

She didn't understand right away.

"What do you mean?" she asked, cold but sincere. "You keep saying that—like there's a thing inside you. But you never tell me what it is."

Asher looked at her. And this time, Kiera's eyes held no more anger—only exhaustion. And questions.

Asher's voice cracked.

"I've tried to protect you from it. From me. But the more I pretend, the stronger it gets."

Kiera moved closer.

Just a bit.

She sank to her knees slowly.

The blue fire's light touched her hair, and for a moment—they looked like two creatures that didn't belong to the war.

Not part of the Trial.

Just a girl.

Just a boy.

And both afraid.

She stopped in front of him.

Only inches between their knees.

"Then don't pretend now," she whispered.

Asher breathed. Heavy. As though every word warred with something inside him.

"I hate suppressing my feeling, Kiera. How I long to hold you in your arms, to feel your touch, to kiss your lips and forget the world for a moment."

"Then do it."

Asher leaned in.

Inch by inch.

Their eyes didn't blink.

Kiera's hand brushed his jaw, her wrist trembling not from fear—but from anticipation.

Their breaths met in the middle.

Warm. Heavy. Slow.

And just as they were about to close the distance—Kiera looked into Asher's eyes and saw a second shadow inside his pupil.

It wasn't Asher.

It wasn't part of him.

It was something else.

A smile.

A monster.

And it stared back.