Chapter 81 Alpha King’s Rut
Xander
"Sorry," I sigh, moving away from Max and blinking rapidly to clear the slight haze of my fast growing rut.
The moment Vanessa’s scent had hit the air, my wolf had reacted, and it was not subtly or calmly. But aggressively.
It wasn't a slow awareness or a creeping realization. It was instant, violent, like something ancient inside me had been waiting for the exact moment and finally snapped awake.
The scent hits me fully again, crashing into me like a physical force and there's absolutely nothing soft about it.
No… there’s something deeper beneath it. Something rich and intoxicating that wraps around my senses and sinks its teeth in.
Mine.
“Take me out of here,” I force out again, my voice rough, already fraying at the edges.
Max doesn’t argue, ever happy to oblige. He grips my arm and he pulls hard. For a split second, my body resists. Not because I want to stay, but because something deeper refuses to leave her, snapping the bond tighter than ever.
A burning, invisible tether stretches between us as distance is forced into existence.
My wolf lunges forward violently in my mind, angry and demanding for me to go back and claim her like I'm supposed to.
Claim her.
Take her.
Mark her.
The thoughts slam through my mind so hard my vision blurs and I stagger back a step.
“Xander” Max snaps his fingers in front of my face but his voice sounds distant. Muffled. Like I’m hearing it through water. Suddenly, the air feels too thick to breathe, too hot and too charged.
I watch as Vanessa gasps again, her fingers digging into the sheets as another wave hits her. The sound of her voice nearly destroys what little control I have left. My wolf surges forward impatiently with a feral snarl, ready to rip himself out of me. The instinct trying take over me isn’t gentle by any means. It’s raw and possessive, ancient in a way that feels carved into bone and blood and everything that makes me what I am.
“No,” I growl under my breath.
Max’s turns to me. “What?”
Vanessa whimpers weakly, her body trembling as another wave ripples through her. The shift flickers along her arms again, claws extending, retracting, like she’s caught between forms.
Patricia has both of Vanessa's hands pinned in hers but it's only a matter of time before Vanessa lunges for me again.
The scent intensifies to a dangerous level, so I force myself to take another step back. I need to distance myself from her right now before we both regret it.
Vanessa’s breathing comes in short, uneven bursts. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, skin flushed, eyes still glowing faintly as her wolf claws closer to the surface, and the bond between us humming like a live wire.
She smells like something untamed and entirely her. And it’s pulling at me. Hard.
Vanessa turns her head slowly toward me.
Her electric blue eyes lock onto mine, hooded, pleading and utterly tempting. “Xander…”
The way she says my name this time is softer and needier, and it hits something deep inside me that responds instantly.
I shake my head and step back again. “No.”
Her brow furrows, confusion cutting through the haze in her expression. “What?”
Her instincts are pushing her toward something inevitable. Something natural. And mine? Mine are answering, violently.
I turn toward the door, forcing my feet to move even though every part of me resists it.
“Don’t come closer. I'll see you when it's all over, Vanessa” I reassure her softly.
Vanessa frowns. “What—”
If I stay in this room much longer…
My control won’t last.
I rip the door open, almost ripping it off its hinges and bolt out of there with Max on my heels. The door slams shut behind us.
The walls of the dungeons greet us with cold silence. Stone walls, dim lights, and air that feels emptier than any other.
Max watches me slowly, a look of concern on his face like he’s expecting me to snap anytime soon. He wouldn’t be wrong.
“You sure about this?” he asks, already reaching for the chains mounted along the wall.
My jaw tightens. “No,” I admit. Then, quieter, “But do it anyway.”
Because this isn’t about what I want. This is about control and right now, I really don’t trust mine.
Max exhales once then moves fast.
The first cuff snaps around my wrist. Cold metal bites into my skin making my wolf recoil instantly. A low growl rumbles up my throat. The second cuff locks into place before I can react then the chains follow; across my chest, my torso. Each link feeling heavier than it should.
When the final lock clicks, everything inside me detonates in the next instant.
A feral snarl tears out of my chest as I jerk violently against the restraints. The chains rattle, scraping against stone as I surge forward, muscles straining, teeth bared. My wolf slams against the cage of my ribs like a beast gone mad.
The chains hold but barely.
Max steps back immediately, hands raised —not in surrender, but in readiness.
“Yeah,” he mutters under his breath. “That’s about what I expected.”
I drag in a harsh breath. The bond pulses, sharp and jagged.
Vanessa.
My head snaps up.
“What did you do?” I demand, voice low and dangerous - animalistic.
Max doesn’t pretend not to understand. He just sighs. “She’s being restrained too.”
“She doesn’t need that,” I bite out.
“She's tried to jump you more times than I can count,” Max shoots back.
"She has no control over her actions," I snap.
"Exactly why she needs it. You don't know what she'll do next," he shoots back. Then his voice softens. "It's all for the best, Xanny."
Through the bond, I feel it – her frustration, her anger and her confusion.
It comes in waves, uneven and raw, slamming into me without warning. And beneath it all...is Heat.
Burning. Unrelenting.
My hands clenching into fists as the chains creak under the strain. Max watches me carefully.
“This is temporary,” he says. “For both of you.”
Temporary.
It doesn’t feel like it.
Avoid her.
That becomes my only goal.
It's so simple in theory but impossible in practice.
I pace the far end of the cell like something caged. My footsteps echo against the walls, uneven and restless. My hands curling into fists, unclench, then curl again.
There’s no stillness in me.
No peace.
Only pressure.
The mansion is large with endless hallways and more rooms than necessary with spaces to put distance between us.
But it doesn’t matter because I can still smell her.
Her scent drifts through the air like smoke, curling through corridors, seeping under doors, lingering in places she hasn’t even been.
The bond between us burns constantly now, a bright thread pulling, tightening, demanding to be followed.
It finds me anyway, every time. My wolf hates it. Not the scent of course, but the fact that nothing can be done about it.
It tightens something in my chest, makes it harder to breathe because instinct doesn’t care about reason. It doesn’t care about choice.
But I do. Vanessa deserves more than instinct. More than something driven by biology and timing and forces neither of us asked for.
She deserves to choose.
Even if every part of me is screaming to take that choice away.
Hours pass.
Then a full day.
The scent fades slightly, just enough to dull the sharpest edge of it, but the damage is already done because my rut has started.
Time loses meaning and the first few hours are the worst.
My body refuses to settle. Every sound grates, every breath feels too sharp, too heavy, and the bond keeps tugging, demanding I move toward her.
But I can’t.
So I pace as much as the chains allow; like a predator trapped in a cage too small for its instincts.
Max finds me late that night.
I’m in one of the far cells, windows open, cold air pouring in, trying and failing to ground myself.
“You look terrible,” he says, leaning against the doorway.
I ignore him.
But that doesn't deter him.
He studies me for a moment. "She's also not in any better position than you are right now," he continues.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better or worse?" I grunt.
"I don't know man, I'm just trying to help out here," he sighs.
"Well, you're doing that wrongly."
"Hey!" he protests but shrugs after a few moments. "I guess you're right. I'll go check on her real quick."
Once he's gone, I slam back against the wall with a frustrated snarl, the chains rattling violently around me.
The next day is different. It isn't easier by any means but it's less... violent.
“You still alive?” Max asks at one point, leaning against the doorway.
I huff a dry breath. “Unfortunately.”
He smirks faintly. “Good. Would’ve been awkward explaining that one.”
I don’t respond because my focus shifts again to the bond.
Vanessa is quieter now. She's not calm but also not fighting as hard. I feel her heat lingering still but it's now full and fading slowly. And with it the pull inside me weakens just enough for me to breathe.
By the fourth day…
The haze begins to crack and I can finally breathe without feeling like I’m choking on instinct.
My eyes open slowly, focusing on the dim light of the basement. Only It's clear now.
Max's footsteps echo down the stairs.
He appears and stops a few feet away, studying me carefully.
“You done trying to kill everything that moves?” he asks casually.
I roll my shoulders slightly, testing the tension in my muscles. “…I should think so.”
“Good.”
He steps forward, unlocking the first chain.
The metal loosens. Then the next.
Each release feels like pressure lifting like something earned. and I flex my hands once the cuffs are off.
“Feeling better, Xanny?” Max asks, patting my back.
I let out a slow breath. “It's more like I got dragged through hell and back.”
He grins. “Then you’re back to normal.”
I ignore him.
Because my focus has already shifted to the bond.
Vanessa.
She's calm now. No frantic spikes,no burning chaos. It's Just… her. Alive, safe and free.
I need to see her.
Now.
I bolt out of the cell in the next second...