The Alpha’s Howl Of Agony

  She held her breath, bracing for what would come next, when suddenly a deafening thunderclap split the sky.

  The force of it shocked her, freezing her in place, her heart skipping a beat as the world seemed to hold its breath. The storm that had been swirling around them now seemed to intensify, pressing in on all sides.

  It was as if the thunder had poured cold water over Seraphina, snapping her back to reality. She blinked rapidly, the tension dissipating for just a moment as the harshness of the rain and the world around her pierced through the fog of the moment.

  She stepped back, her voice sharp and commanding as she confronted him. “Where are you going?” Her eyes locked onto his, the fierce intensity still lingering in her gaze.

  Adolphus exhaled deeply, his breath fogging in the cold air, but he remained rooted to the spot. 

  His eyes softened for a fraction of a second before he spoke, his voice gentle, almost reverent. “Butterfly,” he called her softly, a word that should have sounded tender but now seemed laden with something more, something heavier.

  Seraphina shook her head, the weight of the moment pressing on her. “A butterfly would die in rain, would it not?” Her voice was tinged with bitterness, the analogy twisting in her mind. “It’s obvious I’m not a butterfly.”

  Her words hung in the air, a barrier between them that she wasn’t sure she wanted to be there but couldn’t seem to erase.

  Adolphus’ lips quirked into a knowing smile, but there was something darker in his eyes, something that made Seraphina’s heart race again. “Then you’re my little hunter,” he said, his voice low, the words like a claim, a mark on her soul that she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

  The way he said it felt like an invitation, like a promise. But it also felt like a trap.

  Seraphina stood there, the rain soaking her through, her chest rising and falling with each breath, caught between wanting to run and something deeper that urged her to stay. 

  His words, though soft, reverberated in her mind, stirring something primal in her, something she wasn’t sure she could control.

  She shook her head again, trying to push the thoughts away. Little hunter… She couldn’t decide if the term felt like a title of power or one of submission. 

  Either way, it seemed to fit—whether she liked it or not.

  Her heart continued to pound, the thunder from above joining the rapid rhythm of her pulse, and as much as she wanted to push him away, to escape the connection, something held her there, locked in the moment, drenched in the rain that seemed to mirror the storm inside her.

  The rain continued to pour relentlessly, the sound of it blending with the low rumble of thunder in the distance. Adolphus stepped closer, his voice softer now but still carrying the weight of his presence. “Go inside, Seraphina,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “You’ll catch a cold.”

  She wanted to scoff at him, to ignore his words out of sheer defiance. 

  But as much as she loathed the idea of obeying him, she knew he had a point. She needed to stay well—not for him, but for herself. For the day she’d finally escape this place and him. So, with a dramatic roll of her eyes, she muttered under her breath, “Fine,” and turned to head back inside.

  Adolphus watched her retreating figure, his lips twitching into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

  There was something hollow about the curve of his mouth, a sadness buried deep that he didn’t bother hiding anymore. As the door clicked shut behind her, he tilted his head back, letting the cold rain soak his face.

  Then he let out a howl.

  It tore through the air, raw and unrestrained, echoing through the forest and beyond. 

  The sound was mournful, filled with anguish and longing, a reflection of everything he couldn’t say aloud. 

  The thunder seemed to answer his cry, rumbling with a ferocity that made the earth tremble.

  Inside, Seraphina stopped mid-step, the force of his howl reverberating through her chest. 

  She clutched the doorframe, her fingers digging into the wood as if to steady herself. 

  Her heart thudded painfully, the sound of his sorrow resonating in a way she didn’t want to admit. Slowly, she turned back, her eyes searching for him.

  Through the rain, she saw him. His head was still tilted toward the stormy sky, but his glowing werewolf eyes were locked on her. 

  The intensity of his gaze, golden and untamed, rooted her to the spot. For a moment, she felt their shared pain, as if the distance between them was nothing more than an illusion.

  Her breath hitched, and she blinked, trying to shake the connection. But the moment lingered, heavy and undeniable. 

  A single tear escaped her eye, rolling down her cheek as if in silent acknowledgment of the sadness that bound them together. 

  She wiped it away hastily, breaking the spell, and turned back inside without another glance.

  Adolphus watched her disappear, his shoulders slumping slightly, his expression unreadable. 

  He felt her sorrow as much as she felt his, and yet, the gap between them seemed insurmountable. 

  They were so close, yet so far apart—two broken souls tied together by fate but unable to help each other.

  Inside, Seraphina leaned against the door, her chest tight and her mind racing. She hated him. 

  She hated his presence, his power over her emotions, and the way he made her feel things she didn’t want to feel. 

  She wished he’d hate her too. It would make everything easier.

  But she knew, deep down, that he didn’t. And that truth was harder to bear than anything else.

  The howl had carried through the storm, reaching every corner of the pack’s territory. 

  It wasn’t just a sound; it was a cry from the depths of the alpha’s soul.