The Feral Alpha's Captive

🔹THORNE

The boy looked up at me, eyes wide and wary. The tremors that racked his body grew worse.

I extended my hand, as slow and as carefully as I could manage with the frustration that churned every emotion into darkness.

Like I would with a wounded animal.

"Come with me," I said, and I tried—really tried—to make my voice soft. Gentle.

The way my mother used to sound when she’d comfort me after the night terrors. When she’d hold me after my father’s bouts of madness. Before Morgana had her head.

Thal stared at my hand like it might bite him.

He needed someone who would understand—more importantly someone he knew would understand but that meant peeling a layer of yourself for him to see. I wish I had gotten that when my mother died, maybe I would not have turned out the way I did.

"I lost my mother too," I said quietly. "Just like you. She was executed. In front of everyone."

His eyes snapped to mine, something flickering in them.

"So I know," I continued, my hand still extended. "I know what it feels like. And I know—"

My throat tightened.

"—I know your mother asked me to take care of you. Before she—"

I couldn’t finish.

Thal’s eyes filled with tears, but he blinked them back furiously.

Then, slowly, hesitantly—

He took my hand. His grip was weak.

I closed my fingers around his carefully, like holding something fragile and breakable.

"Come on," I said. "Let’s get you some food."

One of the gammas started forward. "Alpha, we can—"

"I said I’ll take care of him." My tone left no room for argument.

The gamma stopped. Nodded. Stepped back.

I turned, Thal’s small hand still in mine, and began walking down the hall.

He followed silently, his steps unsteady.

Behind us, I heard the gammas murmuring, confused and uncertain.

Let them talk. I didn’t care.

Yana had died because of my choices. Because I’d weighed her life against others and found it expendable.

The least—the absolute least—I could do was keep the promise I’d made to her with that single nod.

Take care of my boy.

So I would. Even if I had no idea how.

Even if kindness and care were things I’d forgotten how to give. I’d figure it out. For her. For him.

For Althea, when she woke up and needed to see that something—someone—had survived the nightmare they’d all endured.

Thal’s hand tightened slightly in mine.

And I didn’t let go.

—

I watched him fiddle with the spoon, like he wasn’t sure what it was even for. I could tell by the way he held it that he knew what it was—but it was the knowledge of how to use it that evaded him.

I watched him struggle with the spoon and rice. His body gave way to more shaking, his shoulders bunched as if he braced for impact.

Was he expecting me to strike him?

Time passed—seconds that felt like minutes—watching him, confused as to what I was supposed to do in this situation. The boy seemed afraid of his own shadow, much less me.

He kept glancing back at me as if he expected my teeth bared at him for... struggling.

For being too slow. For making a mess. For existing.

The trembling worsened. The spoon slipped from his fingers, clattering against the bowl.

He flinched. Hard.

"It’s fine," I said, reaching forward to help—

Thal screamed. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

A raw, terrified sound that cut through the air like a blade. He jerked backward so violently the bowl flew up—rice scattering, broth spraying—

I caught the bowl mid-air before it hit the ground, but the spoon glanced off my head with a dull thunk before clattering to the floor.

Thal scrambled back, his eyes wide and wild, pressed against the wall like a cornered animal. "I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—" The words tumbled out in a breathless rush. "I didn’t mean—please don’t—"

My shadows snapped. Lashing out in sharp, jagged lines across the walls, reacting to my frustration before I could rein them in.

Thal’s scream cut off into a choked whimper. He pressed himself flatter against the wall, hands coming up to shield his face.

Fuck.

"Send him away." Umbra’s snarl echoed in my head, raw and vicious. "I don’t want this. I want our MATE. Send him AWAY."

The compulsion slammed into me like a physical blow—the bond demanding I go to her, forget the boy, forget everything that wasn’t her—

I gritted my teeth, forcing it down, forcing Umbra back.

"No," I growled aloud.

Thal made a small, broken sound.

I took a breath. Then another, forcing my shadows to retreat and my hands to unclench. Then I bent down and picked up the spoon.

Thal watched me with huge, terrified eyes as I walked past him to the basin in the corner. I washed the spoon slowly, deliberately, giving him time to see I wasn’t going to hurt him.

What would Althea do?

The thought came unbidden.

She wouldn’t yell. Wouldn’t lose control. Wouldn’t let her frustration show.

She’d be patient. Gentle. Even when it was hard.

Even when she was exhausted and grieving and breaking apart.

If she woke up and found out Thal hadn’t eaten—that I’d scared him, failed him—

I turned back, spoon in hand, and crossed the room.

Thal tensed, but I didn’t reach for him this time.

I sat down on the floor. Put myself at his level. Made myself smaller. Less threatening. Then I scooped up some rice from the bowl still clutched in my other hand and offered the spoon out to him.

"Here," I said quietly. "Let me help."

Thal stared at the spoon. At me. At the spoon again.

"I’m not going to hurt you," I added, though the words felt clumsy and insufficient. "I promise."

His throat worked as he swallowed hard.

Then, hesitantly—so hesitantly I thought he might bolt—he leaned forward, opened his mouth.

I brought the spoon to his lips carefully, like handling something infinitely fragile.

He ate.

It was awkward. Clumsy. I had no idea what I was doing—had never done this before. My hand wasn’t steady. The angle was wrong.

But Thal kept eating.

Slowly, he began to relax. Just slightly. Just enough.

Another spoonful. Then another.

His shaking eased. His breathing evened out.

I found a rhythm. He found trust. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t smooth but it was working.

Then the howl rang out.

Not from outside.

From within the fortress.

The sound was wrong. Too high. Too sharp. A scream and a howl wrapped into one, tearing through the stone walls like they were paper.

Every wolf in the fortress would feel it.

Every wolf would know.

But I knew it in my bones.

"MATE!"

Umbra’s roar exploded through my skull, obliterating thought, obliterating control, obliterating everything that wasn’t the primal, desperate need to get to her NOW.

I was on my feet before conscious thought caught up.

Thal yelped as I grabbed him—scooping him up bodily—and ran.

The bowl clattered to the ground. Rice scattered everywhere.