Claimed by the Alpha King

Amber.

"Don't go," a weak voice rasped from the cot in the corner.

I paused, my hand on the cracked wooden door of our tiny hovel. "Leo, I have to. The apothecary won't give us more medicine on credit."

"It's the Winter Solstice Ball. The palace guards will be everywhere. It's too dangerous."

A rattling cough shook his small frame, and I rushed back to his side, pulling the threadbare blanket up to his chin.

"I'll be fine," I whispered, my voice more confident than I felt. "I'm just serving drinks. No one will even see me."

"They always see us," he mumbled, his eyes fluttering shut. "They see the dirt under our nails."

I squeezed his hand. "Then I'll wear gloves. Get some rest, Leo. When I come back, I'll have bread. Maybe even some cheese."

His breathing evened out, and I slipped out of the room, my heart a heavy stone in my chest. He was right. It was dangerous.

At the palace service entrance, a stout woman with a permanent scowl blocked my path. Her name was Marta.

"I told you, Ross, no more shifts this week," she grunted, not looking up from her list.

I clutched the few coins in my pocket, the metal slick with sweat. "Please, Marta. I heard you were short-staffed for the ball."

"We are. But we need competent staff, not slum rats who might steal the silver." Her eyes flicked over my patched dress with disdain.

I pushed the coins into her hand. It was the bribe I'd saved for a month, money that should have gone to Leo's medicine.

"It's all I have," I said, my voice tight. "I'm a hard worker. You know I am. I'll do whatever you need. I'll scrub the kitchens after, all night if you want."

Marta's fingers closed around the coins. She sighed, a long, tired sound. "Fine. But you are on drinks only. You go nowhere near the food tables. And if you drop a single glass, I'll throw you to the wolves myself."

"I won't. I promise." Relief washed over me, so potent it almost made my knees buckle.

"Get in there and find a uniform that doesn't smell like desperation," she ordered, stepping aside.

The palace kitchen was a chaotic whirlwind of steam, shouting, and the clatter of pots. Another girl, not much older than me, shoved a tray of delicate flutes into my hands.

"You're new," she said, her eyes wide. "You picked a bad night to start."

"I'm Amber."

"Anya. Just keep your head down and your mouth shut. These nobles, they get mean when they drink."

"Any other advice?" I asked, trying to keep the heavy tray steady.

"Yes," Anya whispered, leaning closer. "Don't make eye contact with the royals. Especially not the King. They say his stare can freeze your blood."

"The King? He'll be there?"

"Of course, he will. It's his ball." She shook her head. "You really are new. Just do your job. Fill glasses, be invisible. That's how we survive."

I nodded, my throat suddenly dry. "Be invisible. I can do that."

Stepping into the ballroom was like entering another world. Golden light dripped from a dozen chandeliers, catching on the jewels of laughing women and the polished medals of stern-faced men. The air hummed with power and smelled of perfume and expensive wine.

It was so different from the slum's scent of coal smoke and damp rot. For a moment, I was mesmerized.

"Move!" a voice hissed behind me, and I stumbled forward, joining the line of servers skirting the edge of the dance floor.

I focused on my task. I moved through the crowd, a ghost in a black uniform. I offered wine, received empty glasses, and murmured, "My apologies, Lord," and "Right away, Lady." No one looked at me. I was part of the furniture.

It was perfect.

Anya was right. I was invisible.

I saw a small alcove near the grand staircase, a perfect spot to watch the entrances and exits. My plan was simple. Wait for the feast to be laid out, find a moment of distraction, and slip a few bread rolls and a piece of roasted meat into the hidden pockets of my apron.

It was a small theft. A crime of survival they would never even notice.

A sudden hush fell over the room. The music swelled into a powerful, regal fanfare.

"What's happening?" I whispered to Anya as she passed.

"They're here," she breathed, her eyes fixed on the floor. "Don't look up. For the love of the Goddess, keep your head down."

A herald's voice boomed through the hall. "All rise for His Royal Majesty, the Alpha King Gage Hollow, and Her Royal Majesty, Queen Sienna!"

I obeyed Anya, staring intently at the polished marble floor, at the reflection of the glittering lights. I could feel the shift in the air, the heavy weight of an immense power entering the room. It was suffocating.

Then I smelled it.

Not the cloying perfume or the rich food. It was something else. Something wild and clean, like a thunderstorm breaking over a forest of pine. It cut through everything, a scent that seemed to call to something deep inside me, something I didn't know existed.

My head snapped up against my will.

And I saw him.

The King. He was even more imposing than the stories claimed. Tall and broad, with black hair and eyes so intense they seemed to burn. He moved with a predator's grace. At his side, the Queen was a vision of fiery beauty, her hand resting possessively on his arm. They were a perfect pair. A king and queen of legend.

He wasn't looking at me. He was smiling at his Queen.

So why did it feel like a rope was tightening around my chest, pulling me toward him?

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic, painful rhythm. My lungs refused to draw air. The tray in my hands began to tremble violently.

"Amber?" Anya hissed beside me. "What are you doing? Head down!"

I couldn't. I was frozen. My gaze was locked on the Alpha King.

As if he felt my stare, his head turned. His smile faded. His eyes scanned the crowd, sweeping past nobles and guards. Then they landed on me.

Everything stopped. The music, the chatter, the world itself.

There was only the scent of storm and pine, and the impossible, soul-shattering pull between us.

It felt like my very bones were being rearranged, like my soul was being torn from my body and dragged across the floor toward him.

A wave of dizziness washed over me. A choked gasp escaped my lips.

The strength fled my limbs. My knees gave out.

I fell.

The tray of crystal flutes went with me, crashing against the marble with a sound that was like a scream in the dead silent room.

Wine and shattered glass exploded across the floor.

Every head in the grand ballroom turned. Every eye was on me. The invisible girl, suddenly the only thing anyone could see.

I looked up from the wreckage of my simple plan, my whole body trembling, and met the furious, disbelieving, and utterly captivated eyes of the King.