CHAPTER 101: CHAPTER 101

The sun had barely climbed above the treetops when I made my way toward the Alpha’s quarter again. My hands trembled around the small tray I carried roasted meat, spiced vegetables, and freshly baked bread the scent curling upward, mingling with the scent of my fear. I told myself I was fine, that this was just another morning duty, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t.

Not after what happened yesterday. The compliment.

The whisper that wasn’t meant for my ears.

Wildflower by the roadside...

I hadn’t been able to sleep. The words kept echoing in my skull like a ghost that refused to leave. I told Joan and Elara about it, pretending it was funny, but they didn’t laugh. They just stared at me as though I had said something impossible.

Now, every step closer to his door felt heavier, like the world itself wanted me to turn back. I knocked softly. "Alpha?"

No response. For a brief moment, I let myself hope he wasn’t inside. That I could just leave the tray and escape before he appeared. But the.

"Enter."

That single word made my heart lurch. I pushed the door open slowly. The room was dim, the curtains drawn halfway, letting in slivers of light that cut across the dark wooden floor. Alpha Zach sat behind his desk, one hand lazily turning the pages of a book. His eyes, however, were on me the moment I stepped in.

He didn’t speak, but his inner voice brushed through my head like static. She came again. So obedient. I swallowed hard, lowering my gaze. I wanted to answer back, to scream that I wasn’t obedient, that I was just trying to survive but of course, I couldn’t. He didn’t know that I could hear him. He didn’t know that every unspoken thought of his now lived rent-free in my head.

I set the tray on the table and stepped back. "Lunch, Alpha."

He didn’t move. His silence stretched until it felt unbearable. Finally, he stood, crossing the room with measured steps. His presence filled every inch of air.

"Sit."

I blinked. "A–Alpha?"

"Sit," he repeated, voice low, dangerous. "Eat."

I stared at him, confused. "Eat?"

"Yes," he said. "You made it. You eat it."

My stomach twisted. I hadn’t eaten yet, but I didn’t think this was an invitation it was a command. My knees felt weak as I slowly sank into the chair. I could feel his eyes on me, heavy and assessing.

I picked up a fork and began to eat, small bites, each one tighter in my throat than the last. I could barely swallow.

Pathetic, his inner voice murmured. She’s shaking again.

I froze. My fingers clenched around the fork.

He leaned forward, his expression unreadable, but I could feel the air change between us.

"Do you think I poison the food I eat?" he asked, almost lazily.

"N–no, Alpha."

"Then why do you tremble?"

My throat went dry. "I... I’m not trembling."

Lie, his thoughts whispered. Her pulse is screaming.

I bit the inside of my cheek, keeping my eyes on the plate.

He moved closer, his hand brushing against the back of my chair as he leaned in. The scent of his cologne dark and musky, like smoke and pine wrapped around me.

"I told you to eat," he said. "Not to starve in front of me."

I nodded quickly, forcing another bite down even though my stomach churned.

Why does watching her do this feel so... alive?

The words hit me so suddenly I almost dropped the fork. My breath hitched audibly, and I prayed he didn’t notice.

He straightened, his voice shifting, cold again. "When you’re done, clean the study."

"Yes, Alpha."

I finished eating as quickly as I could, every movement stiff and mechanical. He didn’t look away not once. It was as though I was a puzzle he couldn’t stop trying to solve, a creature he didn’t understand but couldn’t ignore.

When I stood to clear the dishes, his inner voice drifted through again, softer this time.

Wildflower. Still trembling, yet she doesn’t run.

I nearly dropped the tray.

My chest tightened painfully, and I hurried to the kitchen corner, gripping the edge of the counter to steady myself.

Why me? Why call me that again? Why did that word sound like both a threat and a confession?

I washed the dishes slowly, hands still shaking, pretending not to notice the way his gaze lingered on me. The sound of water and porcelain filled the silence.

When I turned around, he was gone.

Just like that vanished from the room without a sound, like a ghost. My shoulders sagged, relief flooding me, but it didn’t last long.

Because even as I cleaned the empty space, I could still hear it his voice in my mind, faint, almost like a whisper carried by the wind.

She’s starting to hear me... isn’t she?

I froze, my blood running cold.

No. That wasn’t possible. He couldn’t know. But what if he did?

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I couldn’t focus. Joan and Elara asked me what was wrong, but I didn’t have the words. How could I explain that I might be losing my mind or worse, that he might be inside it? That night, I lay awake, my thoughts circling endlessly. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him the way he looked at me, the way his voice sounded when he said that word.

Wildflower. Fragile. Breakable. Yet somehow still standing. The line between fear and something else something darker, more dangerous began to blur. When I finally drifted to sleep, my dreams were haunted. I saw him again, in the same room, under the same dim light. His voice both in my head and in the air tangled together until I couldn’t tell them apart.

You think you can run from me, wildflower?

I woke up drenched in sweat, clutching my blanket so tight my knuckles turned white.

No. I couldn’t let this consume me. I couldn’t fall into his madness.

But deep down, I knew the truth — it was already too late.

Because every time he looked at me, every time his unspoken voice touched my mind, I felt something inside me answering back. Something that wasn’t supposed to exist. Something dangerous. And maybe just maybe that was exactly what he wanted.

Dance for me," he said at last.

No smile. No hint of jest. Just a quiet order that left no room for refusal.

My heart faltered. Dance? For him? My palms grew cold and I could feel every beat of my pulse behind my eyes. But I nodded, because there was nothing else to do when Alpha Zach’s gaze fixed on you. I stood in the circle of lamplight and forced my trembling legs to move.

At first, it wasn’t a dance. It was just breathing with music that wasn’t there. The rustle of my skirt became the rhythm, the whisper of my bare feet the melody. I tried to keep my eyes on the floor, but something stronger made me look at him.

He hadn’t moved. Only the corner of his mouth curved not quite a smile, more like curiosity. Inside my head, his inner voice brushed against me, soft as smoke.

So fragile. So afraid. Yet she obeys.

I froze. I shouldn’t have heard that. He didn’t know I could hear him. He never did.

Keep dancing, the voice hummed again, playful this time. Let’s see how far before you break.

I swallowed hard and turned, moving again because stopping would be worse. Every step felt like walking through invisible fire. My breath hitched when his voice whispered once more, quieter now

"Like a wildflower growing through stone...

That word again wildflower. The same one that haunted my nights. The one that made my chest ache with something I didn’t understand.

When I dared to glance at him again, he wasn’t watching my feet; his gaze was somewhere higher, lost, distant. Maybe even sad.

The silence between us thickened until it was almost alive. My body slowed, the air trembling with the sound of my breathing.

"Enough," he murmured aloud.

The sound of his real voice was rougher, scraped by something sharp. I stopped instantly, gripping the edge of the table to steady myself. He stood up, tall enough that his shadow swallowed me whole. For one suspended heartbeat I thought he would say something—apologize, maybe, or explain why he’d made me do it.

He didn’t. He just turned away and poured himself a glass of water.

I should have left, but my feet wouldn’t move. I could hear his thoughts again low, thoughtful.

She doesn’t even realize how she changes the air when she walks in.

Why do I want her near when I should want her gone?

My throat tightened. I wanted to run, to forget every word I wasn’t supposed to hear. But another part of me some stubborn, foolish part wanted to stay, just to see if the next thing he thought might be about me again.

He set the glass down, and the clink was louder than thunder. "You may go, Omega."

His words were cold, but his eyes weren’t. I turned and left before my knees could betray me.

Outside, the night wind stung my face. I didn’t realize I was shaking until I reached the gate to the omegas’ quarters. Every nerve felt awake, alive, screaming. The Alpha’s words or rather, his unspoken words played over and over in my mind like a forbidden song.