Rebirth - To love or Hate the Alpha

Elian POV

I stirred, shifting a bit about to feel the half of an arm that draped over me. For a moment, I froze, recollecting all of last night's activities.

I glanced over the side and saw Ronan next to me, mirrored in his quietness and serenity, rather unlike the closed expression he always wore on his face. His dark hair was a mess, falling over his forehead, and for the first time, he actually looked... vulnerable.

I stood still, not wanting to disturb the fragile moment. But as if he felt it, Ronan's eyes opened.

"Morning," he said, as though the grime of sleep was still thick on his voice, but softer than ever.

"Morning," I replied, smiling even though the nerves were bubbling in my chest.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn't uncomfortable—it felt safe, like we both wanted to hold on to the moment a little longer.

Finally, Ronan sat up, but with the slightly serious expression that was already settling on his face. It stirred my heart as I realized that he probably had something on his mind.

"Elian," he began, his voice steady though his eyes revealed an undercurrent of uncertainty. "Last night..." Then he paused, ran a hand through his hair, and seemed to be gathering his thoughts.

"What about it?" I asked quietly, feeling the thundering of my pulse.

"It wasn't just... I mean, it wasn't a mistake," he said firmly, his gaze capturing mine. "I don't regret it. And I need you to know something." He took a deep breath, his jaw tightening before he said the words that made my chest ache in the best possible way. "I love you, Elian. I've loved you longer than I can explain. I will protect you-no matter what it costs me. Even if it means my life."

And for a moment, I could do nothing except stare, like my brain was struggling to comprehend the confession. Then, slowly but surely, a smile spread across my face. "You mean it?"

Gosh, he was looking determined, his dark eyes boring like he wanted to make me believe every word. "I do. You're everything to me."

A wave of relief washed over me, warm and unavoidable. I laughed, part joy and part disbelief, and reached out for his hand, which I grasped tightly. His touch was grounding, steady. "I wish I could remember our past," I said, my voice soft with longing. "How we met, what we were to each other before all this. But even if I don't... I'm happy about this now. About us."

The lips of Ronan curved into a smile—a rare smile out of a person like him, it was genuine and immediately drowned by the worry on his face. Next, he averted my gaze to our joined hands, looking down as though seeking answers from them but unable to ask.

"There's something more," he said, cautious. The warmth in his voice dimmed by an edge of hesitation. "This must be between us. Nobody can know-not yet."

"Inevitably, it diminished my smile. Why?" I asked, and my heart sank with it. "What's wrong?"

He sighed, the sound very heavy, almost defeated. "Cassian, Morrigan...even the pack," he said, the weight of his words heavy with frustration, "If they find out even what you mean to me, they will take it as a weakness. They will exploit it. And when they do that, it won't just be me who is targeted-it will also be you."

His voice fell, almost a whisper. "I can't let that happen, Elian."

I looked at him full in the face, and tightening in my chest was the raw tenderness in his eyes-like he was trying to protect me from not only foes but also the dangers of his world, which I was still trying to make sense of.

I didn't like it. It felt wrong to hide this thing too perfect but then again, I could not deny any truth against his words. The pack was no place to drop the guard.

Sylvie's POV

The forest was eerily quiet as I approached the house of Morrigan, back packed onto my shoulder, notebook tucked under my arm. I'd been in strange places researching before, but this was different-a whole new realm.

Ronan's pack was spoken of far and wide; not only were they strong, but they were surrounded by the most terrible mysteries. And rumor had it that Morrigan held more of these than anyone else.

Before me stood the house exactly how I imagined it would: weather-beaten wood, vines strangling their way up the walls, and an atmosphere of uncanny stillness making my flesh prickle.

I was raised to knock, but a shred of my voice roared inside me that made me freeze in mid knock. I could feel my heart racing as the muffled words drifted sonorously through the thick wooden door. Flattening myself against the wall, I tangled my head to intently listen every sound pouring from the door into the silence of the hallway.

"...everything is falling into place," said a deep baritone voice, steady and sure. Morrigan.

"What about Ronan?" came another voice, sharper, laced heavily with doubt.

"Morrigan, Ronan is blind," he stated with his smug emphasis. "He's really so sunk in guilt over Elian with all the balanced regrets and fears he's suffered. He is so tied up with watching the boy that he can't even see what is going on right under his nose. Every move he makes only fortifies my position. When the time is right I'm going to take him down, and then everything he's fought for will be mine."

My veins froze with the words. The hand on my chest tried to steady my breathing. Guilt? Protecting Elian? What was this about Morrigan? Oh yes, he was confident, and venom dripped from him, but this went beyond power. There was something personal in it. Something twisted.

Tighter I held on to my notebook as my mind jumped around like a restless monkey. Morrigan was not just scheming; he was also counting on the weaknesses of Ronan in making the case stacked in his favor. But then again, what did he mean by "guilt"? Maybe Ronan had something to hide, which Morrigan was now playing up against him?

I made a slow, deliberate step backward from the door. The floor creaked beneath my feet and froze as my breath caught in my throat. The voices of conversation within had a ceaseless feeling of eternity, and I swore I heard footsteps getting nearer to the door.

Panicked, I clutched my notebook tightly, every instinct screaming at me to run. But the footsteps receded, and the voices went back to normal volume, as if Morrigan and his accomplice sensed they'd said too much.

This was not about pack politics or leadership conflicts anymore. Whatever Morrigan was scheming would destroy Ronan, as it would Elian too. I needed to warn them, but how? What if Morrigan caught wind of what I had heard? What if I was too late?

Slipping away from the door, my heart was thumping like the sound of a drumbeat in my ears. The notebook in my right hand felt as heavy as the weight of a thousand pounds, mocking me with its blank pages. No evidence, no proof—only that chilling conviction that Morrigan's betrayal was already in motion.

I glanced over my shoulders one last time before disappearing into the shadows. Morrigan thought Ronan was blind, but I wasn't. And I wouldn't let this go unnoticed.