My Alpha Refused to Save My Father from Rogues

The Lycan Royal Palace wasn't just a building; it was a city of marble and gold carved into the side of a mountain. When the limousine finally pulled through the iron gates, I pressed my face against the cold glass, my breath fogging the view of towering spires that seemed to pierce the moon itself.

"It’s too much," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. "I don't belong here, Santiago. I'm a Gamma's daughter who lived in a cottage the size of your bathroom."

Santiago didn't laugh. He sat across from me, his massive frame filling the leather seat, looking at me with that intense, golden gaze that made my skin prickle. "You are my mate, Selene. You belong where I am."

When we stepped inside, the grand hall was silent, lined with bowing servants who didn't dare lift their eyes. It was a stark contrast to the sneers and whispers I had endured back at the Blackwood Pack. Santiago led me up a sweeping staircase to a set of double doors carved with intricate wolves howling at the moon.

"This is the Queen's Suite," he said, pushing the doors open.

I stepped inside and gasped. The room was larger than my entire childhood home. A four-poster bed draped in silver silk dominated the center, and a balcony overlooked the entire valley. It was beautiful, but it felt like a gilded cage. I turned to him, panic fluttering in my chest.

"And... where do you sleep?"

Santiago remained in the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back. "In the East Wing. On the other side of the palace."

I blinked, surprised. "Oh."

"I brought you here to heal, Selene, not to serve me," he said, his voice dropping an octave, rumbling through the floorboards. "I will not force the bond. I will not touch you until you ask for it. You are safe here. From everyone. Including me."

For the first time in ten years, the knot of anxiety in my stomach loosened, just a fraction.

***

The next morning, Santiago didn't take me to breakfast. He took me to the training facility.

It was a gleaming, high-tech arena of chrome and glass, smelling of sweat and ozone. Racks of weapons lined the walls, and mats covered the floor.

"Gamma blood is resilient," Santiago said, tossing a bundle of black fabric at me. "But you have been suppressed for a decade. Your wolf is dormant, buried under layers of grief and submission. We need to wake her up."

I unfolded the bundle. It was custom-fitted combat gear—sleek, reinforced tactical pants and a form-fitting top. It wasn't the rags I wore as a servant. It was armor.

"I've never fought," I admitted, clutching the fabric. "Adrian said... he said fighting was for Alphas and Deltas. He said I was too fragile."

Santiago’s eyes darkened. "Adrian was a fool who wanted a pet, not a partner. Go change."

For the next three weeks, I learned what it meant to be tired. Santiago didn't go easy on me. He was relentless. I spent more time on the mats than on my feet, my muscles screaming, my lungs burning. I was clumsy, slow, and weak. Every time I fell, I expected him to sneer, to tell me I was useless, just like Adrian had.

But he never did. He just waited.

"Again," he would say, his voice calm and unyielding.

One afternoon, during an intense sparring session, I hit the mat hard. My head spun. I lay there, staring at the ceiling lights, the taste of blood in my mouth. I didn't want to get up. It was easier to stay down. It was safer.

"Get up, Selene."

"I can't," I wheezed.

"Is this how you fought for your father?"

The question was a lash across my heart. I stiffened.

Santiago circled me, his voice prowling closer. "Is this why Adrian left you? Because when things get hard, you just lie down and take it? No wonder he chose Kayla. At least she knew how to fight for what she wanted, even if she had to lie to get it."

Tears pricked my eyes, hot and angry. "Stop it."

"He let your father die because he didn't respect you," Santiago pushed, his tone turning cruel, calculated. "He looked at you and saw a weak, submissive little wolf who would never bite back. And looking at you now... was he right?"

"Shut up!" I screamed.

"Prove him wrong!" Santiago roared, his Alpha aura flaring, crushing the air out of the room. "Get up and fight me!"

Something inside me snapped. It wasn't a bone. It was a chain.

The image of Adrian laughing while my father died flashed in my mind. The memory of Kayla wearing my mother’s dress. The years of silence, of head-bowing, of begging for scraps of affection.

*No more.*

A surge of heat erupted from the base of my spine, hotter than fire, sharper than electricity. My vision wavered, the gray mats tinting with a sudden, brilliant violet hue.

I didn't think. I moved.

I sprang from the floor with speed I didn't know I possessed. Santiago was already moving to block, expecting a sloppy swing. Instead, I ducked under his guard, pivoting on my heel, and drove my fist upward with everything I had.

*CRACK.*

My knuckles connected solidly with his jaw. The force of the impact sent a shockwave up my arm. Santiago stumbled back a step, his eyes widening in genuine shock.

The room went dead silent.

I stood there, chest heaving, my fists raised. I could feel it—my wolf. She wasn't hiding anymore. She was pacing just beneath my skin, snarling, her eyes glowing through mine.

Santiago slowly reached up and wiped a small trickle of blood from his lip. He looked at the blood on his thumb, then up at me.

He didn't look angry.

A slow, terrifyingly proud smile spread across his face.

"There she is," he whispered, his golden eyes locking with my glowing violet ones. "Hello, Alpha."