THE ALPHA’S FIERY FATE CHAPTER 16

☠️𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑳𝑷𝑯𝑨’𝑺
𝑭𝑰𝑬𝑹𝒀 𝑭𝑨𝑻𝑬🔥
{𝑩𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝑩𝒚 𝑭𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔}

Written By, 𝐀𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧_𝐀𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞

𖣘𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟔𖣘
{𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒅𝒈𝒆 𝑶𝒇 𝑷𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓}
─━━━━━━⊱✿⊰━━━━━━─

I stagger back from the mirror, chest heaving. That voice—low and dark, like smoke curling around my thoughts—echoes in my skull.

“H-hello?” I whisper aloud, but my lips feel numb, disconnected. “Are you… my wolf?”

A beat of silence.

Then, the voice answers again, a little softer this time. “Yes.”

My knees buckle, and I fall onto the stool in front of the dressing table. My fingers tremble as I press them to my temples, grounding myself.

“Where have you been? Why now?” I ask.

“You weren’t ready” she murmurs, the words coiling gently around my mind. “You still aren’t. But the clock ticks, and I can’t stay quiet anymore.”

I swallow thickly. “That’s not fair. Most wolves speak to their humans by eighteen. They shift. They bond. I turned twenty months ago. I’ve spent two years thinking something was wrong with me.”

“You are not broken” she utters firmly. “You are bound.”

I blink. “Bound? To what?”

No response.

“Why didn’t we shift on my birthday? Why have you stayed silent all this time?” My voice rises with each question, desperation bleeding through. “Do you know how crazy I’ve felt? Watching others become whole while I just… waited?”

A sigh drifts through my mind, like wind through dead leaves.

“There are things you’re not ready to remember. Things buried too deep. If I spoke then, I might’ve broken you.”

Her words land heavy, like stones in my stomach.

“And now?” I ask, my tone cracking. “Now that you’re finally here, will you tell me your name?”

There’s a pause. A heartbeat of quiet.

“My name…” she begins, almost like she’s struggling with it. “My name is—”

Static.

Nothing.

Gone.

“Wait!” I shout into the silence of my mind. “Don’t go! Say it again! Please!”

But the space inside me that once buzzed with presence has gone deathly still. Cold.

Like she was never there.

“Talk to me” I whisper, panic edging in. “Please. Just say something. Anything.”
Stillness answers.

I clench my jaw, fists curling atop the vanity.

“Fine. Be like the rest of them. Silent. Secretive” I scoff.

Frustration claws at my throat, and I release a shaky breath, letting my head fall onto the cool surface of the dressing table. My hair pools around me like a curtain, shielding me from the haunted girl in the mirror.

And in the quiet that follows, only the wind answers—whistling through the open window, mocking me with its freedom.

𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐂

The moment I walk into the estate, I already regret it.

The air smells like roses and judgment. Too clean. Too still. Like she’s been waiting.

“Eldric” comes her voice from the sitting room—elegant, poisonous. “Did you forget where you live?”

I don’t respond right away. I shrug off my coat and drape it over the banister, rolling the tension out of my neck before I cross the threshold.

She’s there, of course. Draped in silk the color of dried blood, legs crossed, wine glass in hand. Always a glass of something. Always a line ready to slice.

“You look like you lost a war” she says, sipping without looking at me. “Oh wait, you are losing. Just not officially. Yet.”

I grit my teeth. “Nice to see you too, Mother.”

“You’re home late” she asserts, studying her nails. “Don’t tell me Kane had you running errands again.”

I stop mid-step.

Here we go.

“No” reply coolly. “Kane doesn’t send me on errands. We work together.”

“Work together” she repeats, laughing like I’ve told a joke. “Darling, you’re a shadow in his presence. You should be leading your own empire by now.”

I exhale slowly, forcing myself to stay calm.

“We’re not in a race.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Maybe not in your eyes. But the world sees it differently. And frankly, I’m tired of watching you sit second place to a man who—”

“Don’t” I cut in. “Don’t speak about him like that.”

That surprises her. Her brow arches like I’ve just grown fangs.

“He’s your Alpha” I state. “And more than that, he’s my brother-in-arms. I don’t compare myself to him because we’re not the same. We’re not meant to be. And I’m fine with that.”

She tilts her head. “So you enjoy being less?”

I take a step closer, and this time, I let my voice harden.

“I’m not less. I’m different. And if you can’t see the value in that, maybe stop looking at me through Kane’s shadow.”

She frowns, lips parting to speak again, but I don’t give her the chance.

“I don’t want his throne” I continue. “I don’t want his power, his pain, or the curse that comes with it. I want my own path. One I don’t have to bleed for to earn your approval.”

The room goes quiet.

She stares at me like she’s seeing something unfamiliar—like I’ve morphed into a version of myself she didn’t script.

She hums. “You were supposed to secure the Harrington & Co. deal. What happened?”

“They chose Kane” I respond.

“Of course they did.” She sets the glass down delicately, then finally meets my gaze. Her eyes are fierce—calculating. “You’re too soft with them. Too concerned with image. You want to be liked. Kane doesn’t. That’s why he wins.”

I scoff and drop into the nearest chair.

“No, he wins because he doesn’t care if he burns the world down with him.”

Her lip curls. “Then maybe you should stop pretending to be the good man. It doesn’t suit you.”

“You want me to be like him?” I stare at her.

“No” she replies, smiling like the spider she is. “I want you to be better. Which you won’t be, if you keep chasing his shadow instead of stepping into your own light.”

“You mean your light” I snap, standing again. “Because everything with you is about control. About appearances. You don’t want me to be better—you want me to be your puppet king.”

Her smile falters for a half-second. Just a flash, but I see it.

“You’re emotional” she says coldly. “That’s always been your weakness.”

“And yours…” I shoot back, “is pretending you ever cared about anyone but yourself.”

The hush lengthens.

For once, she doesn’t have a comeback.

Then she smiles that tight, unreadable smile.

“Hm. You sound more like a leader than you think.”

I don’t return the smile.

Because I know what she really means.

She’s already plotting how to twist this into something she can use.

But not this time.

Not with me.

𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐄

Blood has a smell.

Not just iron and rust.

It smells like fear. Like endings.

The scent hits before the bastard even opens his mouth. He thinks he’s brave, standing in my territory, spitting lies about forming an alliance with Darius. He doesn’t realize he’s already dead.

I smile.

Lyall stands beside me, arms crossed, quiet but alert. He knows what this is.

The man keeps talking. “You can’t hold the North forever, Kane. The Shadowfangs have numbers—strategy. Even your cursed strength won’t—”

I move.

Fast.

Too fast for his eyes to catch.

One second, I’m standing still. The next, my fist drives into his stomach like a battering ram, lifting him off his feet. He crashes into the stone wall with a wet crunch. Bones shatter like dry sticks.

He coughs. Red spills from his lips.

“Wrong” I growl, voice low and vicious. “You forgot one thing.”

I step closer, boots echoing in the silence. My shadow stretches over him like a demon creeping from a nightmare.

“I don’t need numbers.”

He tries to crawl. Pathetic.

I grab him by the back of the neck and slam his face into the ground. Blood paints the floor in splatters. Teeth scatter like broken pearls.

Lyall doesn’t flinch.

I flip the bastard over, crouching beside him.

He’s barely conscious—just enough to feel it.

Good.

“You came into my house” I whisper, dragging a claw across his cheek. “Tried to threaten my Pack. My people. You think that goes unpunished?”

His eyes are wide now. He finally understands.

Too late.

I let my claws sink into his chest, slow and deliberate, until I feel the ribs parting like soft bark. He screams.

It excites my wolf.

I lean close, breathing in the agony.

“This is mercy” I say softly. “Because if it weren’t, I’d make you beg before I ended you.”

And then I rip.

His heart comes out warm in my palm, pulsing for a moment longer before it dies in my grip.

Silence again.

Only the sound of dripping.

I toss the body aside like a broken toy.

“You could’ve let him bleed longer, Alpha” Lyall says, stepping forward.

I glance down at the crimson pooling at my feet.

“No. He didn’t deserve the pleasure” I reply.

We turn and walk out, leaving the corpse to rot behind us.

Let them come.

Let them all come.

I am the madman they whisper about in the dark.

And I just made d@mn sure they never forget it.