CHAPTER 104: CHAPTER 104

The Alpha’s voice was low, but it slashed through the sterile air like a knife.

"If she dies," he said, each word drawn out like the sound of a blade being sharpened, "I’ll break your neck myself."

The pack doctor froze, every drop of blood draining from his face. His trembling hands hovered uselessly over his clipboard, his lips parting and closing again like a fish gasping for air. Even the nurses stopped breathing. The only sound in the room was the faint, steady beep of the monitor beside me.

From where I lay on the bed, I could barely move. The fever had stripped me of strength, leaving my limbs heavy and my head spinning. But I could still hear him every word, every drop of venom in his tone and I could feel it, too. The way his anger filled the room like smoke.

Alpha Zachary Varyn.

The Psycho Alpha.

He stood at the foot of my bed like a dark monolith, his eyes locked on the trembling doctor. His aura pressed against everything walls, air, bone. Even in my fevered haze, it was suffocating. His power wasn’t loud; it didn’t need to be. It crept into your lungs, wrapped around your throat, and reminded you exactly how small you were.

The doctor finally managed to stammer something. "Y-yes, Alpha... I understand. I’ll do everything I can. I swear it—"

Zach’s eyes narrowed, and for a second, I thought he’d strike him. But then he turned his gaze toward me, and the world seemed to tilt.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

That look it wasn’t just anger. There was something behind it. Something I couldn’t name. His jaw was tight, his pupils dilated, and though he looked furious, the way he stared at me made my stomach twist in confusion. Like he was seeing something he didn’t want to feel.

I wanted to speak. To tell him to leave. To stop making everyone so scared.

But my throat refused to work. Every breath burned.

He took a step closer, the floor creaking under his boots. My fingers clutched the sheets instinctively. I could smell him now that faint mix of pine and smoke that clung to him, thick and heavy, impossible to ignore. My heart thudded painfully in my chest.

"You heard me," he said to the doctor again, without looking away from me. "If she doesn’t recover, I’ll kill you."

Then he turned and walked out, the door slamming shut behind him with a sound that made the windowpanes rattle.

The room exhaled. Everyone moved at once the doctor stumbling to grab his tools, the nurses whispering to each other in shaking voices. But even after the Alpha was gone, his presence lingered. Like the scent of thunder before a storm.

"Get the fever down," the doctor ordered quickly, his voice cracking. "Now! I don’t care what it takes if the Alpha comes back and she’s worse, we’re all dead!"

His fear seeped into me, even as I drifted back into the fog of half-consciousness. I tried to turn my head, to make sense of where I was, but the room tilted again. My body felt like it didn’t belong to me anymore. Everything hurt.

Someone pressed a cool cloth against my forehead, but it didn’t help. The heat inside me wasn’t just fever it was panic. The image of the Alpha’s face burned behind my eyelids. The raw, cold fury in his voice when he’d threatened the doctor.

Why did he care? Why would someone like him even bother? Or has he fallen in love with me? The thought slipped through my mind right before I lost consciousness again.

When I woke, the room was quiet. The lights were dimmed, and the smell of antiseptic clung to the air. My head ached, my body heavy but less feverish. Someone had tucked the blanket around me tightly, and my arm was still connected to the IV.

Joan was sitting in the corner, her hands clasped in her lap. Her eyes widened when she saw me move.

"Ellie!" she whispered, rushing to my side. "You’re awake."

"Elara?" I croaked weakly.

"She’s in the kitchen. She didn’t want to leave, but the nurses said only one could stay. The Alpha." Joan hesitated, glancing at the door, then leaned closer. "He came back."

My heart stopped.

"What?" I whispered. "When?"

"Just after sunset. He asked about you. The doctor nearly fainted again. The Alpha... he sat right there." She pointed to the chair beside my bed. "Didn’t say a word. Just... watched you."

I swallowed hard. The room suddenly felt smaller.

"Then he left," Joan added softly. "But the way he looked at you, Ellie it wasn’t normal."

I didn’t reply. I didn’t know how to.

I closed my eyes, pretending to rest, but my thoughts wouldn’t stop spinning. The image of him sitting silently beside my bed clawed at my mind. Watching me. Why? Why me?

Maybe he was just making sure his threat to the doctor worked. Maybe it was about control, not concern. But somewhere deep inside me, I didn’t believe that. And that terrified me more than his anger ever could.

The next morning, the sun bled through the curtains in pale streaks. The clinic was quieter now, most of the nurses gone. The doctor checked my vitals with the anxious energy of someone who’d been awake all night.

"You’re improving," he muttered, half to himself. "Good, good the Alpha won’t.

He cut himself off when he realized I was watching him.

"The Alpha won’t what?" I asked weakly.

He blinked. "N-nothing, Miss Ellie. Just rest."

He left before I could question him again.

But I knew what he was going to say. The Alpha won’t kill us.

He had watched me through the night. He had threatened death if I didn’t recover. None of it made sense.

Hours passed. Joan and Elara came and went, their whispers always fading when they thought I might be awake. I could tell they were frightened not just of him, but of what his attention meant for me.

"An omega shouldn’t catch an Alpha’s eye," Elara had whispered once, thinking I couldn’t hear. "It only leads to pain."

But this omega needs to catch the psycho Alpha’s eye and even capture his heart if I want to leave this place.

By evening, I was strong enough to sit up. The nurses brought me something light to eat, and for the first time in days, I could actually taste the food. I was almost starting to feel human again until I heard the footsteps. Heavy. Unhurried. Echoing down the corridor. Every sound in the clinic seemed to stop. Even the air changed. The door opened. And there he was.

The Psycho Alpha.His presence swallowed the light the way fire eats air. He didn’t knock. He didn’t ask permission. He just walked in, his eyes instantly locking on me like a predator finding its mark.

The nurses fled. Even Joan and Elara vanished without a word, leaving me completely alone with him.

I wanted to shrink into the bed, but my body refused to move. My pulse thundered in my ears.

He closed the door behind him, and the click echoed like a heartbeat.

For a long moment, he just stood there, watching me. His gaze swept over my face, my shoulders, the trembling hands clutching the blanket. Then, without saying anything, he pulled the chair closer and sat down beside me.

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes studying me like I was something fragile or dangerous.

"You look better," he finally said, his voice low and quiet. Too quiet.

I swallowed. My throat was dry. "T-thank you, Alpha."

His lips twitched, the ghost of a smile that never reached his eyes. "You were almost gone last night."

I didn’t know what to say. My fingers dug into the blanket, trying to find something to anchor me.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes darkening. "Do you always run yourself into the ground before asking for help?"

My heart skipped. The question wasn’t harsh not in tone. But it carried weight, like there was something else buried beneath it. Guilt? Concern? I couldn’t tell.

"I... didn’t want to trouble anyone," I whispered.

His gaze lingered on my face. "You wouldn’t trouble me."

That startled me more than anything else he’d said. I stared at him, trying to understand. But then he leaned back, breaking the tension with a soft, almost inaudible sigh.

"You shouldn’t be here," he murmured, almost to himself. "This place isn’t safe for someone like you."

I frowned, my confusion deepening. "Someone like me?"

His eyes met mine again sharp, piercing. "Someone fragile."

My chest tightened. I wanted to protest, to tell him I wasn’t fragile, but before I could speak, his hand reached out. His fingers brushed my cheek, slow and deliberate, tracing the outline of my face. The touch sent a shiver through me.

"Wildflower," he whispered under his breath. So soft I almost thought I imagined it.

But I didn’t. I knew that voice that same deep, dangerous murmur I’d heard before. Only this time, it wasn’t just in my head. It was real. He pulled back suddenly, his expression shuttered again, his mask slipping back into place.

"Rest," he said flatly, standing. "The doctor says you’ll recover soon. Make sure you do."

And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving me with my heart pounding and my thoughts in shambles.

The door closed behind him, but his voice that one word echoed in my mind long after he was gone. Wildflower.

Why did it sound like both a curse and a promise?

I pressed my trembling fingers to my lips, trying to steady my breathing. The room felt colder without him, emptier. But deep inside, I knew something had changed. The Psycho Alpha had threatened to break a man’s neck for me. And that terrified me more than death itself.