The Alpha Queen I Love Is Back

"Oh well, impressive." I can't avoid to utter as I glanced my eyes all over the venue.

"This should have been another hit if caught in live but it's pause not post for the mean time." I reminded myself.

The gala was supposed to be another brand story—cinematic shots of gowns, champagne glasses catching the light, maybe a dance or two with some CEO desperate to buy relevance through me. I should’ve been thinking about hashtags, filters, the angle of my smile. But all I could think about were those silver eyes. I stood in the middle of the ballroom, trying to ground myself in the swirl of laughter and clinking glasses, but the memory of his voice—low, sure, like he’d known me long before we’d spoken—clung to me like perfume.

Careful what you record here, little Luna. He had called me that like it was fact, not flirtation. And then he’d vanished, leaving me with questions that tangled tighter than the diamond choker at my throat.

“Miss Veyra.” A waiter in crisp black offered me a flute of champagne. I took it gratefully, hoping the fizz would slow my heart. But the glass trembled in my fingers, betraying me.

“First time on Bacnotania?” a voice asked. I turned to find a man in a pale gray suit—polished, charming smile, the kind of guest who knew how to network his way into photos. He extended a hand.

“Eli Santos. Tech investor. And you’re Callie, right? The Callie Veyra? My nieces worship you.”

I slipped into autopilot, shaking his hand, smiling for the moment. “Always happy to meet fans—even secondhand ones.”

He laughed, too loud, and leaned closer. “I have to say, I’m surprised to see you here. This gala isn’t usually for influencers. More…old money circles.”

The way he said it pricked, though his smile stayed smooth. Before I could answer, his gaze flicked past me. His laughter faltered.

“Ah. Speaking of the devil.” I didn’t have to turn to know who had entered our orbit. The air shifted—like gravity had bent.

My pulse stuttered, breath shortening as if my body had already recognized him before my mind could.

Kael Draven.

I turned anyway, slow, deliberate. He was closer now, striding through the crowd with that same predatory ease, and the guests parted as though some primal instinct told them to. His eyes—silver and sharp—locked on me. And once again, I forgot to breathe.

“Mr. Draven.” Eli’s tone had changed—lower, cautious. Respectful, almost fearful. Kael’s gaze slid briefly to him, dismissing him in a glance.

“Santos.” He said the name like a warning before returning his attention to me. The weight of it made Eli excuse himself in seconds, muttering something about champagne refills. I didn’t blame him.

Kael’s presence wasn’t just commanding—it was suffocating.

“You’re frightening your guests,” I murmured, trying for levity, though my voice was softer than I intended.

“They frighten easily,” he said. His eyes traced my face like he was memorizing it. “But you…” His jaw tightened, as though he were restraining himself. “You don’t.”

I almost laughed, except it wasn’t true. He terrified me, but not in the way shadows did. It was a different fear—the kind that made your stomach drop in freefall but left you craving the rush. I shifted, clutching the stem of my glass.

“What did you mean earlier? About me. About the island.”

His lips curved in a faint smile, though it didn’t touch his eyes. “If you’re asking for answers, this isn’t the place.”

“And yet you brought me here,” I countered.

“I wanted to see if you’d feel it.”

I frowned. “Feel what?”

“Home.”

The word struck something deep in me, something I didn’t want to acknowledge. “I’m not from here.”

He tilted his head, studying me. “Aren’t you?”

Before I could form a reply, a woman appeared at his side, slipping her arm through his like she belonged there. She was all sharp cheekbones and scarlet silk, her smile predatory in a way that made the hair rise on the back of my neck.

“Kael,” she purred, ignoring me entirely. “The council is waiting for you. They grow impatient.”

“I’ll come when I choose,” he said without looking at her.

Her smile tightened. Only then did her gaze flick toward me, dismissive at first—until her eyes narrowed, sharpened, and something like hostility rippled in them.

She leaned in closer to him, staking a claim. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she said, her tone dipped in venom. “And who might you be?”

“Callie Veyra,” Kael answered for me, still watching me. “Our guest.”

The woman’s eyes darted between us, and for a split second, something dangerous flashed across her face. “Guest,” she repeated, almost like it was an insult. She forced another smile. “How…lovely.”

She tugged at his arm again, but Kael’s attention hadn’t shifted from me. “I’ll return shortly.”

Her expression soured, but she left, her heels clicking sharp against marble. I exhaled a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

“Who was that?” I asked.

His expression darkened. “Someone who doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, really? She seemed to think otherwise.”

“She’s irrelevant.” His voice carried an edge, final enough to close the subject, but curiosity still burned in me.

Instead, I drained the last of my champagne and set the glass aside. “So what am I doing here, then? Why invite me?”

Kael’s smile was small, unreadable. “Because whether you admit it or not, you belong here. And sooner or later, you’ll see that.”

“I belong on camera,” I said, defensive. “This—” I gestured at the glittering ballroom, the predatory gazes, the tension threaded through every laugh. “—this isn’t my world.”

“You’re wrong,” he said simply, like stating a fact. And then, without asking, he extended a hand. “Dance with me.”

I stared at his hand, elegant but strong, veins shifting beneath skin that looked made for power. My throat went dry.

“No cameras,” he added softly, almost like a lure. “Just you.”

Something in me cracked. Against all logic, I placed my hand in his. His grip was warm, grounding, but there was fire beneath the touch. He led me to the dance floor, where the string quartet slid seamlessly into a waltz.

The moment his arm settled around my waist, the world shrank. My hand rested on his shoulder, and every nerve in my body screamed awareness. His eyes caught mine—silver burning into brown—and I forgot steps I’d practiced for years.

“You’re trembling,” he said.

“I’m not.”

His lips curved, faint amusement sparking. “You are.”

He guided me effortlessly, his presence so absolute that it felt like resisting would only draw me deeper. My breath hitched when his palm pressed against the small of my back, anchoring me.

“This isn’t real,” I whispered, more to myself than him. He leaned closer, voice brushing my skin.

“It’s the only thing that is.” My chest tightened, betraying me.

“Why me?”

“Because fate doesn’t make mistakes.” I swallowed hard.

“And if I don’t believe in fate?”

“Then it will keep proving itself until you do.”

The intensity in his gaze was unbearable, like he could see every secret I’d ever buried. My walls—the ones I’d spent years building for the camera, for the followers, for survival—felt paper-thin.

But before I could answer, a scream cut through the music. It shattered the moment.

Guests froze, heads whipping toward the grand windows overlooking the forest.

The quartet’s bows screeched to a halt. Another scream—shrill, panicked—ripped through the night. Kael’s expression transformed, all softness gone. His hand tightened on mine.

“Stay close.”

The crowd erupted in chaos—heels clattering, glasses shattering, guests rushing toward the exits. But my eyes locked on the windows.

Movement. Something enormous barreled out of the treeline, fur bristling, teeth flashing in the moonlight. It leapt over the garden wall like it was nothing, crashing into the manicured lawn with a growl that rattled the glass.

Gasps turned into terrified cries. The beast—wolf, but impossibly large—snapped its jaws, eyes glowing red.

My heart pounded. Not silver. Not Kael.

Kael pulled me against him, his voice a low growl in my ear. “Don’t move.”

“Is that—” My words stuck in my throat.

“Rogue,” he spat, eyes blazing.

The wolf lunged, sending bodies scattering. Guests shrieked, tripping over gowns and chairs.

The beast tore through a table, snapping wood like twigs. And then its gaze landed on me.

It froze.

Snarled. Recognition—or hunger—burned in its eyes.

A chill ripped through me, deeper than fear.

The rogue wolf bared its teeth and charged.

Kael shoved me behind him just as the windows shattered inward, glass exploding,

and the beast leapt straight for us—