Chapter 2 I DON'T BREAK THAT EASILY, ALPHA

LYRA'S POV

The room is big - bigger than most, smaller than home.

Everything looks perfectly arranged, almost unnaturally so. The bedspread is smooth, the fireplace small but giving a little warmth. Even the air feels disciplined.

He stops by the door and says simply, "Dinner is in thirty minutes."

His voice is deep, even - command dressed in calm. Then he turns to leave.

I mimic under my breath, "Dinner is in thirty minutes."

From the hallway, his voice cuts back without missing a beat.

"I heard that."

My face burns. I slam the door shut and sink onto the bed.

Perfect. Barely an hour here, and I've already annoyed him.

---

By the time I make it downstairs, it's been forty minutes. Maybe forty-five.

Sue me. I got lost in the damn maze of hallways, then decided to redo my braid because the cold made my hair frizz.

The dining hall is dimly lit, long shadows cast by the fireplace. The table stretches forever, yet only one person sits at it - Alpha Corin.

He looks up as I walk in.

"You're late."

"I'm a lady," I say, taking my time crossing the room. "I needed to get dressed properly."

He gestures to the chair across from him. "Sit."

I tilt my head, smirking. "Didn't realize I was your pet."

He doesn't rise to the bait. Just watches, silent and unmoving, until I sit anyway.

The chair feels colder than it should.

Without the heavy furs, he looks different - hard lines of muscle beneath a dark shirt, a scar running from his right brow to just below his eye. He's older, yes, but not frail like I'd imagined. There's something measured about him, like every movement is deliberate.

He finally speaks, cutting through the silence.

"You claim to be a lady. But your behavior back home was anything but."

I stiffen. "If refusing to play pretty doll for entitled wolves is unladylike, then sure."

His gaze doesn't shift.

"You embarrassed your family. Your father's name. Your pack."

"Maybe my pack needed a reminder that their daughters aren't trophies."

"Enough."

The word lands flat and final - no need for force when authority comes naturally.

"You'll learn when to speak."

He leans back, eyes narrowing slightly. "There are rules here. No lateness for meals or training. Lights out when the bell rings. Hair tied up at all times. A uniform will be provided."

I blink. "What the hell is this? A primming school for losers?"

He ignores me completely. "And most importantly," he continues evenly, "no talking back. You speak when you're asked to."

Silence stretches between us.

Then he adds, without a hint of emotion -

"And yes. You are a loser."

Something in me snaps.

I push my chair back sharply, wood scraping against stone. "You-"

"Sit your ass down."

He doesn't raise his voice, but something in his tone shifts - a low, quiet authority that wraps around the room like frost.

My body reacts before my mind does. My knees weaken, and I find myself sitting again, pulse hammering.

He sets his fork down neatly, eyes never leaving mine.

"There are punishments for breaking the rules here, Lyra. I suggest you decide quickly whether you're here to learn... or to be taught."

The way he says taught makes something in my chest tighten - not from fear, but from the dangerous awareness of him.

I meet his gaze, chin lifted despite the tremor in my pulse.

"I don't break that easily, Alpha."

His lips curve slightly, just enough to make me question if it's amusement or warning.

"Good," he says quietly. "I like a challenge."

---

Gods. I hate this place.

The fire in the hearth crackles like it's mocking me. I've been pacing for ten minutes, muttering under my breath about arrogant Alphas with sticks up their backsides.

"I said I'd learn respect, not prison etiquette," I grumble, running my fingers through my hair. "Who even rings a bell for lights out? What is this, a monastery?"

The bell tolls just then.

I glare at the ceiling. "Oh, perfect timing."

I try to sleep. I really do. But my skin itches with restlessness. Outside, I can hear the guards laughing softly by the fire. The night air must be freezing, but I'd take cold over suffocating silence any day.

So, naturally, I slip out.

The corridor is dim, lit only by dying lanterns. I move quietly, just wanting air. Nothing else.

"Going somewhere?"

The voice comes from behind me - deeper than I remember.

I freeze, then turn slowly.

Alpha Corin stands in the half-light, tall, broad, wrapped in fur like the cold itself bows to him. He's wearing less than earlier - a loose linen shirt, sleeves rolled, dark trousers that make him look more dangerous than civilized.

My throat tightens. "What are you doing up?"

He doesn't answer. His eyes flick to the unlit lantern beside me. Then back to mine.

"What did I say about lights out after the bell?"

"I wasn't sleepy."

"Not an excuse."

"I didn't realize I needed permission to breathe."

That's when he moves. Fast.

Before I can blink, his hand catches my wrist and pulls me back - not painfully, but with enough force to make my heart slam against my ribs. My back meets the cold stone wall. He's close, not touching, but close enough that the space between us feels electric.

"Let me go," I whisper, though my voice betrays me. "I don't fear you."

His gaze drops briefly to my lips, then back to my eyes. His voice is smooth with control.

"Obedience isn't about fear, Lyra. It's about control. And you're going to learn that before you burn this place down with your defiance."

My pulse jumps. "You're hurting me."

He releases me instantly, but doesn't step away. His fingers find my jaw, tilting it up - forcing my gaze to his. His eyes are storm-gray, sharp enough to cut through my stubbornness.

"Lyra." My name comes out a rough murmur. "I see you're a sucker for punishments."

My breath stutters. I should hate the way that sounds. I don't.

Then, as suddenly as he came, he pulls back. The air between us feels colder without him.

"We start training at dawn," he says, voice returning to that calm, dangerous edge. "Don't be late again."

He turns, walking down the hallway.

"Oh, and Lyra?" His voice carries back without him looking.

"This is the last time I'll ask nicely."