Rebirth - To love or Hate the Alpha

Ronan's POV

He chose Idris.

The thought burned, its edges sharp and unrelenting. I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms as if the physical pain could silence the storm inside me. He hadn't even looked back when he walked away, and I hated how much that bothered me. Why did it bother me?

"Ronan?" Lyra's voice cut through the haze. She stood at the door, arms crossed and concern etched into her face.

"What is it?" I barked, sharper than I intended.

Her eyes narrowed. "You're being unbearable. The whole pack can feel it."

I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair. "What do you want me to say, Lyra? He left. He chose his brother over me—over us."

"Of course, he did. Idris is his blood," she said matter-of-factly, stepping closer. "But that's not what's really eating at you, is it?"

I didn't answer.

Lyra raised an eyebrow, her tone softening. "You care about him."

"I don't," I snapped, though the words felt hollow. "He's... He's just someone who needed help. That's all."

"Keep telling yourself that," she muttered, turning to leave. But before she did, she glanced back, her gaze piercing. "Whatever you're feeling, you need to figure it out. Because this pack can't handle a distracted Alpha."

Her words lingered long after she left.

Why did I care so much?

I'd asked myself that question a hundred times, and the answer eluded me every time. He wasn't pack. He wasn't... anything to me. Yet, the way he had looked at me with those wide, trusting eyes—how could someone trust so easily? How could he trust me?

"Alpha."

I turned to find Dax, one of my enforcers, standing at attention. "What is it?"

"Some of the pack are restless," he said cautiously. "They don't understand why you're so affected by... him."

"Do they question my leadership?"

Dax hesitated, and that was enough of an answer.

"They'll fall in line," I said firmly, though the words felt brittle. "I'll make sure of it."

But as Dax left, I couldn't shake the gnawing doubt. Was I losing control of my pack? Of myself?

I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to find clarity. And then, unbidden, the memory of Elian's smile surfaced—the way it lit up his face, softening the sharp edges of my world.

Damn it.

Elian's POV

Idris's home was quiet, almost eerily so. The cabin nestled deep within the forest felt like a sanctuary—safe, yet strange. The walls were lined with books, jars of herbs, and trinkets that hinted at a life I couldn't remember. Idris moved through the space like he belonged, but every time he looked at me, his eyes carried a sadness that felt misplaced.

"You hungry?" he asked, placing a bowl of stew on the table.

I nodded, though I wasn't sure if I was. "Thank you."

He sat across from me, studying me as if searching for something. "Do you really not remember anything? Not even me?"

I hesitated, the spoon hovering in my hand. "I'm sorry, Idris. I don't."

The way his shoulders sagged made my chest ache. "We grew up together," he said quietly. "You were always the gentler one. The one who believed there was good in the world, even when I didn't."

His words stirred something deep within me—a flicker of recognition, like the faintest spark of a dying flame. But it was gone as quickly as it came.

"I wish I could remember," I said, and I meant it.

He forced a smile. "It's okay. We'll figure it out together."

Later that night, as I lay in the unfamiliar bed, the weight of the day pressed down on me. My mind drifted to Ronan—his intense gaze, the way he had shielded me, even when it cost him. I didn't understand why I felt drawn to him, why the thought of him made my chest tighten in a way that was both comforting and painful.

Sleep came reluctantly, and when it did, it brought with it fragments—flashes of moments I couldn't place. A forest bathed in moonlight. A voice calling my name. A pair of hands, strong and warm, pulling me from the edge of despair.

I woke up with a start, my heart racing and my breath shallow. The images slipped away like water through my fingers, leaving behind only the faintest impression. But one thing was clear.

I knew that voice. And it wasn't Idris's.

Idris insisted on taking me around the territory the next day, showing me the places he said we used to explore together. The forest was beautiful, alive with the sounds of nature, but I couldn't shake the sense of unease that followed me like a shadow.

"You were always happiest in the woods," Idris said, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "You'd spend hours gathering herbs, talking about how everything had a purpose, a place in the balance of things."

It sounded like someone I might have been, but it didn't feel like me now.

"I wish I could remember," I said quietly.

"We'll get there," he promised, placing a hand on my shoulder.

That night, the fragmented memories returned, sharper this time. Voices I didn't recognize. A pair of eyes, dark and filled with emotion. And pain—so much pain. I woke in a cold sweat, clutching the blanket as if it could anchor me.

For a moment, I considered waking Idris, telling him about the dreams. But something held me back. Instead, my thoughts drifted to Ronan. His voice had a way of grounding me, even when everything else felt uncertain.

I didn't understand why, but I missed him.

Ronan's POV

By the third day, I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to see him. I had to know if he was okay, if he was safe. And maybe, just maybe, I needed to understand why this was eating me up inside.

As I crossed into Idris's territory, a strange ache settled in my chest. I didn't know what I was hoping to find, but then I saw him.

Elian was walking through the forest, sunlight dancing off his hair. He looked calm, almost at ease, and for a moment, I just stood there, watching him. But something about it felt wrong. He didn't belong here. He belonged... with me.

"Elian," I called, the name escaping my lips before I could stop myself.

He turned, his eyes widening when he saw me. For a heartbeat, everything around us seemed to fade.

"Ronan," he said softly, and the way he said my name made the storm inside me quiet, just for a moment.

Then Idris stepped out of the shadows, his expression hard and unforgiving as he put himself between us.

"What are you doing here?" Idris growled, his voice dripping with hostility.

I ignored him. My eyes stayed locked on Elian. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

Elian hesitated, glancing between me and his brother. "I... I'm fine," he said, but his voice wavered.

I could see it in his eyes, though—he wasn't sure. There was doubt, confusion, and something else I couldn't quite name. It was enough to make me stay, no matter what Idris thought.