Chapter 5 The Awakening
Alberto heard his name drifting through layers of darkness. It sounded far away at first, like a whisper carried by wind over a silent forest. The voice was familiar, deep, commanding, wrapped in a rough tenderness that clawed at the edges of his half-conscious mind. He tried to open his eyes but the weight pressing on them was heavy, as though someone had poured lead behind his lids. The sound came again, sharper this time, snapping across the fog of his thoughts.
Alberto.
The voice cut through his mind like a whip. His heart jolted, and he gasped for air. His body jerked violently, as if ripped from the depths of a nightmare. His lungs burned as he dragged in the first breath of awareness, and his eyes flew open.
And there he was.
Alpha Fernando stood before him, towering, his presence filling the small wooden chamber with something fierce and electric. The air shifted around him, heavy with the scent of pine and iron, a reminder of the forest they ruled and the blood that bound them to it. Alberto’s heart stumbled in his chest, caught between fear and something dangerously close to longing.
He scrambled to his feet so quickly that his chair scraped against the floor. His knees wobbled, and he bowed his head low, words tumbling from his mouth before he could stop them.
“Alpha, forgive me. I must have— I didn’t mean to—”
His tongue knotted, tripping over itself as heat rushed to his cheeks. He could still feel it, the echo of the dream that had just been shattered by Fernando’s voice. That unbearable dream where the Alpha’s breath had brushed against his lips, where his hand had cupped his jaw with terrifying gentleness. The memory made him sick with shame, and yet a traitorous part of him still trembled from it.
He cursed himself inwardly, every syllable a blade of self-loathing. How could he have such thoughts? About his Alpha? About Fernando the man who carried the blood of kings, whose strength kept their pack from tearing itself apart. Alberto clenched his fists at his sides, forcing his gaze to the ground.
Fernando shifted awkwardly before him, his brow furrowed in concern. There was something unguarded in his eyes, something that looked almost… human.
“Why were you strangling yourself in your sleep?” Fernando’s voice was low, rough from disuse. “You were gasping. I thought you were dying.”
Alberto blinked, confused. His hands moved to his neck. He felt the faint sting of bruises blooming there, the ghost of pressure marks. He had been choking himself. He couldn’t remember doing it, only the suffocating darkness, the dream, and the voice that had pulled him back.
“I— I’m sorry, Alpha,” he stammered, backing away a step. “It won’t happen again. I didn’t mean to cause concern. I’m not worth—”
“Don’t say that.” Fernando’s words were sharp, almost like an order, but his tone faltered at the end. He ran a hand through his dark hair, as if trying to rid himself of discomfort. His jaw tightened. “You frightened me, that’s all.”
The room fell silent except for the slow rhythm of their breaths. Outside, wind rattled the windows, carrying the faint howl of distant wolves. Alberto dared a glance up. The Alpha was watching him, eyes dark and unreadable, standing close enough that Alberto could feel the warmth radiating from him. The scent of cedar, smoke, and something wild filled the air between them.
Alberto swallowed hard. “I won’t be a burden again.”
Fernando opened his mouth to speak, but the door burst open before he could.
Darius stormed in, his chest heaving, sweat gleaming on his temples. His scent of raw aggression and rage filled the room in an instant. His eyes darted from Fernando to Alberto, then back again.
“Alpha,” he panted, bowing his head slightly before straightening. His gaze locked on Alberto with disgust. “I heard the noise. Is he the cause?”
Fernando’s lips parted, but Darius was already moving.
Before Alberto could take a step back, Darius closed the distance between them. His fist crashed into Alberto’s stomach with brutal force. The sound echoed in the small room like a thunderclap. Alberto doubled over, choking out a cry, the air torn from his lungs. He dropped to one knee, his vision blurring from the pain.
Darius loomed over him, his teeth bared. “You raise no weakling,” he growled. “You do not let your Alpha lose sleep worrying over trash.”
Alberto tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. The pain spread like fire through his abdomen, and his fingers curled against the floorboards. He wanted to apologize, to explain, to say something that might ease the fury in the Beta’s eyes. But all he could do was wheeze in silence.
Fernando’s voice cut through the moment, sharp as a blade. “Enough.”
Darius froze mid-breath. His knuckles were still clenched, and a faint tremor ran through his arm. But he did not turn.
“I said enough,” Fernando repeated, each word laced with authority.
The Beta slowly lowered his hand, though his shoulders were still tense. He cast a sideways glare at Alberto, who was struggling to regain his balance.
“Alpha, with all respect,” Darius began, his voice dripping with restrained anger, “you should not concern yourself with him. He’s weak. He’s careless. What happens when your enemies find out that someone so close to you cannot even control his own body while he sleeps? He’s a danger to himself and the pack.”
Fernando’s eyes darkened. He took a slow step forward, the air around him shifting, the weight of his dominance pressing against the walls.
“Are you questioning my concern?”
Darius straightened. “I’m questioning his worth.”
Fernando moved again, and Alberto flinched at the sudden intensity in the Alpha’s movements. He had seen this before the quiet before the storm. Fernando’s temper was not something the pack often witnessed, but when it surfaced, it was like watching the forest itself catch fire.
The Alpha stopped only a breath away from Darius. Their eyes locked, predator to predator.
“Do you think I cannot decide who is worth my attention?” Fernando’s voice was dangerously soft.
Darius’s jaw worked, but he said nothing. His gaze flicked toward Alberto, who was now leaning against the table, breathing unevenly.
Fernando turned his head slightly, following the direction of that look. Something flickered in his expression not anger, not quite protectiveness either, but something deeper, heavier, harder to name.
He stepped past Darius and crouched beside Alberto.
“Can you stand?”
Alberto hesitated, startled by the closeness. He nodded weakly. “Yes, Alpha.”
Fernando reached out, his hand hovering just above Alberto’s arm as if he wanted to help but wasn’t sure he should. For a brief second, the tips of his fingers brushed Alberto’s skin, and Alberto’s heart stuttered in his chest. His body screamed to lean into that touch, but his mind screamed louder reminding him that he had no right to want this.
Fernando pulled back almost immediately, straightening. His expression was unreadable again. “Get some water,” he said quietly. “You’ll make yourself sick if you keep shaking like that.”
Alberto moved toward the table where a wooden jug sat. His hand trembled as he poured a small cup and brought it to his lips. The coolness soothed his throat, but the ache in his stomach refused to fade.
Darius stood rigid near the door, still fuming. His eyes darted between them, suspicion growing like a shadow.
“Alpha,” he said at last, his tone clipped. “You’ve always told us that weakness has no place in this house. Yet you protect him like—”
Fernando turned so swiftly that Darius fell silent.
“Like what?” Fernando asked. His voice was a low growl now, laced with warning.
Darius swallowed, his bravado faltering. “Like he means something more than he should.”
A heavy silence filled the room. The air seemed to thicken until breathing felt like a burden. Alberto’s fingers tightened around the cup. His heart pounded against his ribs.
Fernando took a slow step toward Darius, his gaze unwavering. “And if he does?”
Darius blinked, caught off guard. “Alpha?”
“If he does mean more than he should,” Fernando continued, his voice now calm but dangerous, “what then?”
Darius hesitated. “Then he becomes a weakness, and we both know what happens to weaknesses.”
The corner of Fernando’s mouth twitched, though it wasn’t a smile. “Do you think I need a reminder of what happens to those who fail to serve their purpose, Darius? Do you think I have forgotten what it means to lead?”
Darius dropped his gaze, clenching his jaw. “No, Alpha.”
“Then stop speaking as if I have.”
Fernando’s tone softened just enough to carry a strange warmth. “You’ve been with me long enough to know that loyalty doesn’t always wear the face of strength. Sometimes it bleeds quietly, out of sight, and still fights to stand when it should fall.”
Darius said nothing. He didn’t understand, or maybe he didn’t want to.
Fernando exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if he were exhausted. He turned back to Alberto, whose eyes were fixed on the floor.
“You should rest,” Fernando said. “You’re trembling.”
“I’m fine, Alpha.” Alberto’s voice was hoarse. He tried to straighten, but his body betrayed him, swaying slightly.
Fernando’s expression hardened, though his eyes betrayed something close to concern. “You’re not.”
Darius scoffed. “He’s milking your pity now.”
That was the final spark.
Fernando turned in one swift motion, his hand shooting out to grab Darius by the collar. The Beta’s eyes widened in shock as Fernando slammed him back against the wall. The sound reverberated through the room, startling Alberto into stillness.
“Pity?” Fernando’s voice was a growl now, low and dangerous. “You think this is a pity?”
Darius gritted his teeth but didn’t resist. “It looks like it.”
Fernando’s eyes blazed with something feral, ancient. “I should remind you who commands this pack. You don’t question me in my own hall. You don’t raise your hand to one under my protection. Ever.”
Darius’s lips curled into a sneer. “Under your protection? Since when does the Alpha shield the weak?”
Fernando’s grip tightened. “Since the moment that weakness bled for me.”
Alberto’s breath caught. He didn’t understand what Fernando meant, but something inside him twisted painfully.
Darius struggled to keep his composure, though Fernando’s strength was suffocating. “You can’t protect him forever, Alpha. The others will see it. They’ll talk. They’ll question—”
“Let them,” Fernando snapped. “Let them question until their tongues fall out.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension crackled like lightning between them.
Finally, Fernando released him. Darius stumbled forward, his breathing rough, but his eyes burned with unspoken fury.
He turned toward Alberto, and for a split second, the rage that twisted across his face was raw enough to make Alberto’s stomach clench.
Fernando saw it.
His voice came low, quiet, and cold enough to chill the blood in the room.
“Touch a strand of his hair again and your hands wouldn't be able to stick to your body.”