The Feral Alpha's Captive

🔹 THORNE

I paced.

That was all I could do to avoid running out the door, back to her, to answer her call. It still echoed in my head a day later. The previous day had blended into the next and now I was here as the sun crept into the sky, its obnoxiously bright light sneaking in through the window.

There had still been no news. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

My thoughts cycled through going back there, or calming the fuck down—but none were possible at the moment.

I knew for a fact that if I went there, I would not be leaving. And there was no world where I would calm down if she did not open her eyes.

"Go back now! This is the Alpha’s quarters!" Someone bellowed in the hall, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I had my mask on and out the door in an instant.

Was there news?

The hopeful thought faded when I came face to face with the scene in the hallway. I stopped and watched, perplexed.

My gamma guards stood in something of a circle around something—or rather, someone—as a small voice came from within, where I could not see. So Nyx flew, movement, stealthy, her wings silent.

She hovered above the gammas who had no idea I was watching, still preoccupied with whatever—whoever—they were looking down at.

Through her eyes saw him. Small, trembling, his brows furrowed, eyes red like he was close to crying.

The Vargan boy.

Yana’s son.

"I just need to see her," his lip quivered, voice cracking. "Please, I just—I need to know if she’s—"

"The Alpha is resting," one of the gammas said, not unkindly, but firm. "You can’t—"

"I won’t bother her! I just need to see—"

"Boy, we said no. Now go back to your given quarters before—"

"Enough."

The word came out harsher than I’d intended—it was no use, I was far too agitated as it was.

All heads snapped toward me. The gammas straightened immediately, fists to their chests.

The boy looked up, and I saw his face properly for the first time. Exhaustion dragged down his already soft features, sorrow echoed in every line,

Dark circles shadowed his eyes—so deep they looked like bruises. His hands shook where they clutched the hem of his shirt. His frame was too thin, too small for what he should be.

And his eyes—

Gods.

His eyes held the kind of grief that aged a person decades in a single night. Hickory orbs dulled with the agony that haunted his every waking moment.

"Alpha," the gamma to my right said quickly. "We were just—this boy was trying to get into your quarters. We told him he couldn’t see the—"

"I heard." I cut him off, my gaze never leaving the boy.

He stared back at me, the fear unmistakable, mingled with uncertainty. But beneath that was desperation. Because despite the horror he felt and the dead of his mother, he refused to wallow in his pain and came looking for the one person he still had in this cruel world.

"What’s your name?" I asked.

He blinked, clearly not expecting the question. "I—Thal."

"How old are you, Thal?"

"F-fifteen."

Fifteen.

He looked eleven—twelve if I wanted to stretch it. Malnourished. Stunted from years of—

Years of slavery. Of starvation. Of watching his people die.

Of watching his mother die.

"What do you need?" I asked, keeping my voice as even as possible.

Thal’s throat worked, like he was trying to swallow around something sharp. "I—Althy. I’m worried about her. No one will tell me if she’s—if she’s going to—"

His voice broke.

One of the gammas stepped forward. "Alpha, we’ll take care of the boy. Get him back to—"

"She hasn’t woken up," I said, ignoring the gamma entirely, my eyes still on Thal.

The boy’s face crumpled.

"But she’s alive," I added quickly. "The deltas are with her. My grandmother is with her. She’s—"

I stopped.

What could I even say? That she was bleeding? She hated me? I wanted to hate her? That she’d screamed my name before collapsing? Ask me why it hurt...

"She’s being cared for," I finished lamely. The words tasting like sawdust.

Thal nodded, but the movement was mechanical. He swayed slightly on his feet. When was the last time he’d slept? Eaten?

As if in answer, his stomach growled—loud enough that even the gammas heard it.

"When did you last eat?" I asked.

Thal’s eyes dropped to the floor. "I—I don’t—two days? Maybe?"

Two days?! "Maybe?"

"I don’t remember." His voice was barely above a whisper. His mother had just been murdered in front of him. His entire world had shattered. And he was worried about Althea instead of himself.

One of the gammas cleared his throat. "Alpha, we can take him to the kitchens. Get him fed and—"

"No." He was refusing food. From the last report I recieved, the reclaimed Vargans had been feed. But they had not counted the child amongst them. And If I sent him on his wayhe still would not eat.

The gamma blinked. "Alpha?"

I looked at Thal—really looked at him. At the dark circles. At the trembling hands. At the grief carved into every line of his too-thin face.

If Althea woke up and saw him like this; hollow and starving and broken.

She’d lose it and blame herself.

She’d think she’d failed him the way she thought she’d failed Yana.

And I—

I was the reason his mother was dead.

I’d let it happen. Made the choice. Let Yana sacrifice herself because one lost life was better than all thirty. There would could not have been a better outcome but it did not mean the loss meant nothing.

But it had meant everything to this boy.

The least I could do was—

"I’ll take care of him," I said. I surprised myself.

Every gamma froze.

"Alpha?" one of them repeated, clearly unsure he’d heard correctly.

"You heard me." I stepped forward, past the circle of guards, and stood in front of Thal.