EPISODE - 3 The Girl in the Alpha’s Quarters

The silence in the Alpha wing was so thick, it could’ve been sliced with Kian’s jawline.

Aira sat cross-legged on the massive bed, wearing a borrowed black hoodie that practically drowned her. It smelled like cedar, clean soap, and faintly of... him. Which was both annoying and weirdly comforting.

The moment the tray of food arrived, she didn’t hesitate. She devoured the roast chicken like a starving cavewoman. Kian watched from across the room, arms crossed, leaning against the wall with an unreadable expression.

“Didn’t think a human could eat like a pack soldier,” he murmured, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

Aira swallowed a massive bite and narrowed her eyes. “Didn’t think a werewolf mafia prince would have scented candles in his murder palace.”

“They’re for stress relief.”

She raised a brow. “How adorable.”

Kian rolled his eyes and sat down beside her, close but not touching. “So… how much of this are you processing?”

Aira took a breath, looked at him, and said slowly, “You’re a werewolf. Your entire family is, too. You’re the heir to a gang of supernatural, possibly murder-happy furballs… and I’m in your very off-limits Alpha bedroom after falling off a cliff.”

He nodded, impressed.

“And yet, the weirdest part of today is that you cooked this chicken.”

“…I did not.”

“I choose to believe you did.”

Kian smiled, barely.

But the moment lingered, and something shifted in the air.

The room grew quieter. The soft fire in the fireplace crackled. Aira’s teasing faded as she looked at him again—really looked at him.

His face was paler than usual. Dark circles under his eyes. His hands, usually steady and strong, were clenched at his sides.

“You didn’t sleep,” she said gently.

Kian didn’t answer.

Aira set the tray down, reached over, and brushed her thumb across a small scratch on his cheekbone. “You worried about me.”

His voice was low. “I thought I lost you.”

“And you didn’t,” she said softly. “I’m right here, wolf boy.”

A pause.

Then—“Don’t call me that.”

“Why? It’s cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“You have a giant wolf painting above your bed. And stress candles.”

Kian stared at her like she was a fever dream. “You really are impossible.”

Aira grinned.

But before the mood could deepen further, the door burst open.

Or tried to.

The handle jiggled violently, then stopped. A sharp knock followed.

“Alpha!” Rayne’s voice came muffled through the door. “I swear I didn’t mean to interrupt, but the elders are asking why a human is being kept in the private quarters and not executed.”

Aira blinked.

“Executed?”

Kian casually reached for the lock and deadbolted the door.

“Tell them to wait,” he said.

Rayne hesitated. “You know they’ll try to storm in.”

Kian’s voice dropped into that cold, spine-freezing tone that could silence entire rooms.

“Let them try.”

Later that night

Aira sat by the window—well, the screen that mimicked the outdoors with enchanted projection—watching a false moon drift across a false sky.

But it still felt real somehow.

She tugged the sleeves of the oversized hoodie tighter around her.

Her body ached, but not just from injuries. Something else was off. Like a buzz under her skin. Like the air itself was different. Thicker.

She couldn’t shake the strange sensation that something inside her was… waking up.

“You okay?” Kian asked behind her.

She turned.

He was freshly showered, wearing a black t-shirt and joggers, hair damp, looking far too comfortable for someone who scared the supernatural world into silence.

“I should be asking you that,” she said.

He leaned against the wall. “They’re furious.”

“Because I’m human?”

“Because you’re you,” he said simply.

Aira frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“You don’t make sense,” Kian said. “You’ve always been... different.”

She looked down at her hands. “You mean reckless?”

“I mean... stronger than any human I’ve met. And I’ve met a lot.” His voice was thoughtful now. Careful. “You’ve kept up with me in combat training since we were kids. Your reflexes. Your instincts. Your scent...”

He stopped himself.

Aira looked up sharply. “What about my scent?”

Kian hesitated.

“Aira, you’re not just any human. You smell... familiar. Like the forest. Like home.”

Her breath caught.

“…Is this one of those wolf soulmate things?”

His silence answered her.

“Kian,” she whispered. “Am I your mate?”

His jaw flexed.

“Tomorrow,” he said. “On my eighteenth birthday, I’ll know for sure. The bond activates then. If you are… I’ll feel it.”

“And if I’m not?”

He looked away. “I don’t care. I’m choosing you anyway.”