Taming His Fragile Alpha

"THE REBELS!"

A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the quiet hall, instantly drowned out by the heavy thuds of clashing steel and the sharp crack of gunpowder.

My eyes immediately snap open as my body lurches forward in my bed, my chest heaving as a violent cough tears through my throat. My limbs feel soft and completely useless, as if I am still trapped by the weakness of the chronic childhood illness that kept me locked away in this tower until my eighteenth birthday.

For twenty years, I have been the hidden, fragile shame of the Royal Alpha family. I am an Alpha prince with zero knowledge of politics, zero selfdefense training, and zero understanding of how the court works. I don't know why the kingdom runs the way it does, nor do I understand why these Omegas are rioting or what they are even fighting for.

The only thing my father ever drilled into my head is a single terrifying truth. The rebels are wicked Omegas, and they want to kill me and my family.

"Rebels." The word leaves a bad taste on my tongue.

This is not the first time they have attacked, but this is the first time they have managed to reach the inside of the palace itself.

"Hide the prince!"

Another shriek echoes right outside my door. My blood runs cold, chills rattling down my spine. I scramble across the mattress, but my weak legs buckle immediately. I fall hard against the floor, while the silk sheets tangled around my ankles like a trap.

But dtill, forcing myself up on trembling knees, I drag my body to the door and press my ear against the wood. The air filtering beneath the crack is thick and dizzying.

The scents mingling in the air are a mixture of intense emotions. Terror, fury, and blood. So much blood. But beneath it all is a strange, blended aroma of hope.

'Hope for what?'

There is no doubt that the guards assigned to my door are already dead. My teeth grit in absolute frustration at my own uselessness. If only I could fight like a true Alpha.

Hurriedly, I pull a decorative ceremonial sword down from the wall display. It is far too heavy for my hands, but its cold weight is the only shield I have.

I throw the door open and peer into the dark corridor.

'I am a true alpha. I won't hide anymore.' I screamed in my mind. But the sight outside my room makes me freeze.

Bodies littered on the hallway. The carpet feels sickeningly wet beneath my bare feet. I stop, tremblingly trailing the blunt edge of my sword up the face of a corpse.

My face gone pale. It is one of our new Beta recruits, the one who had once clumsily spilled a juice on my hair, his throat completely torn open, blood pooling across the floor.

But right next to him lie other bodies dressed in tattered, nonimperial gear. A bitter sound leaves my lips as my eyes well with tears. Some of them are those rebel Omegas. They risked their own lives just to hunt us down. 'Why? What did we ever do to them?'

Realizing how vulnerable I am out here, I scramble backward into my chamber to lock the door. If those assigned to protect me are already dead, I am next.

'Don't be a reckless idiot now. You can't even lift this simple sword without struggling.' I scolded myself for being so reckless earlier.

My hands tremble as I lock the door, but as soon as it is done, a heavy, unfamiliar metallic scent fills the room. My body freezes as I realize that I am not alone. There is someone else here.

From the corner of my eye, I see a shadow moves from the darkness behind my bed.

Before I can even raise my heavy weapon to defend myself, a pair of ice cold strong hands lock around my throat. The grip is a vice. With terrifying ease, the intruder slams me backward against the wall, knocking the remaining breath completely out of my lungs.

My ceremonial sword clatters uselessly to the floor. I am entirely pinned, unable to move a single muscle against his suffocating, dominant strength.

"Don't move," a low, dangerously voice commands.

The sharp, freezing edge of a silver dagger presses directly against my throat. I look up through the dim light, my heart pounding like a trapped bird.

The assassin wears a stark white veil, obscuring the lower half of his face, but his scent gives him away instantly.

A male Omega. But he doesn't smell like the weak, submissive Omegas my fathet always told me about. His scent is different, predatory, and something dangerous.

My breathing becomes even more labored as I realized my situation. I am going to die tonight. At the hands of a rebel Omega.

And not just any rebel, but their leader, judging by the tattoo on his dagger.

Tears stream from the corners of my eyes. His grip is tight and strong. Desperately, I carefully writhe against him. Since I cannot move recklessly because, aside from his strength and my lack of skill, he has a blade pressed against my neck.

But as I writhe against his hold, my hand suddenly slips, brushing directly against the exposed skin of his wrist.

Pain.

A sudden, blinding flash of whitehot pain shoots through my body. It doesn't strike my neck or my hands, but instead, it pierces directly into my lower right ribs, searing into my flesh just above my waist like a branding iron.

Pinned against the wall, I let out a painful, breathless gasp.

Across from me, the dominant Omega rebel violently stiffens. His strong grip on my throat vanishes as he stumbles backward, his own hand flying to his back.

A sharp hiss escapes from behind his veil. He clutches his spine, his eyes wide with an emotion I never expected to see in a rebel.

Shock and disbelief. Neither of us moves. The air between us shifts, charged with the sudden heat throbbing inside our skin. He looks down at me, his knuckles trembling as he stares at the fragile Alpha he just pinned to the wall.

He could kill me right now to end whatever this pain is. He should kill me right now.

Instead, he slowly lowers the dagger.

My throats tightened. "Wwait," I try to stop him, carefully and nervously as I realizes his plan.

But he ignored me. Without a single word, he steps back into the shadows, he throws open the balcony doors, and vanishes into the chaotic bloody night.

'He just left...'

I collapse onto the floor, clutching my burning waist, my heart roaring in the silence of my room. I let out a bitter laugh as I hug my knees, staring at the now empty balcony.

I had spent my life praying for strength, but the universe had a sick sense of humor.

I had finally found my mate.

And he was the man who had come here tonight to kill me.

In the next morning, I stood in front of the fulllength mirror, my trembling hands slowly peeling back the edge of my expensive tunic.

There it was, burning a fierce, angry red into the flesh of my lower right ribs, just above my waistline.

Two crisp, permanent letters.

K.T.

My heart pouded loudly against my chest. The sharp, searing pain from last night had faded to a dull, rhythmic ache, yet the truth of it froze the blood in my veins.

The assassin who had pinned me to the wall, the Omega who had nearly ended my life... he was my fated mate.

And he was a rebel.

A sudden, sharp knock on the door made me flinch.

"Prince Mace," a butler's muffled voice called out. "His Majesty has summoned you to the royal study immediately."

"II'll be right there," I called back, my voice cracking.

Panic surging inside me, I hurriedly threw on my new layers of royal clothing, desperate to hide the brand before anyone could see it.

Even as my hands shook from the terror of the night before, I forced my feet to move down the cold stone corridors.

Standing before the massive, gold embellished doors of my father’s office, a heavy dread settled over me. I clenched my fists to stop the shaking, and took a shallow breath, knocking gently.

"Come in."

The voice was like ice. I pushed the door open and stepped into the grand chamber.

Behind the dark oak desk sat my father, the King. The deep, rigid lines between his brows told me everything I needed to know. He was furious.

"Ffather?" I stammered, keeping my distance. I didn't dare take another step forward.

My father took a slow, deliberate sip from his wine glass, his sharp gaze drilling holes right through me. "You were lucky to survive the night."

A chill washed over me. Lucky. Yes, I was alive, but my mind was not.

My mate was out there.

He was one of them. I wanted to scream, to ask my father why the rebels hated us so much, why they wanted us dead, and what drove them to attack.

But I didn't. Asking this will revealed the truth. And to reveals the truth, is to seek for death.

Images flashed behind my eyes, the cold weight of the dagger against my throat, and the suffocating strength of the rebel leader.

I instinctively reached up, my fingers brushing against the heavy white bandages wrapped around my throat. He had been so ready to kill me.

'What kind of Omega was he? How could an Omega be that terrifyingly strong?'

Father leaned back in his leather chair, his knuckles tapping a slow rhythm on the desk. "You need to learn selfdefense. This weakness cannot continue."

"I can't..." I whispered, looking down, fingers curling. "My body..."

"Your body is fine now." He cut my words off. "You've been fully healed since last three year." He pointed out.

"But I still feel it, father. My body wasn't like yours or the others. Mine is wea"

"You are an Alpha, Mace!" My father’s voice boomed, his teeth gritting as he slammed his palm onto the desk. "An Alpha is never weak."

I flinched at my father voice, remaining silent as he continue. "You're a disgrace to this bloodline crouching in fear like a damn omega."

The humiliation rested deep into my bones, painful and rotting. He was right. I was an Alpha, yet I was fragile, sickly, and utterly helpless.

A dark, intrusive thought whispered in my mind. 'I don't deserve to be an Alpha.'

"Who... who will teach me then?" I forced the words out, swallowing my pride.

"I have already arranged it," Father replied coldly. "A Beta. He is the son of a legendary warrior from the neighboring province. Not only will he train your useless body in selfdefense, but he will also tutor you on the politics and history of this kingdom. You will no longer remain ignorant."

I nodded numbly, staring at the floorboards. I needed this. If I wanted to survive in this brutal palace, I had to become strong.

"And... what about the rebels?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, terrified of the answer.

Father’s eyes darkened with a savage, merciless glint. "We will drag them to the square and hang their heads on spears. There is no mercy for Omegas who forget their place as livestock."

A sudden, deepseated fear struck my heart, so physical it made me gasp.

In my mind's eye, a horrific vision appeared. I imagined him, the rebel leader. I imagined his white veil torn away, his cold gray eyes lifeless and staring, and his head mounted on a blood stained spear in the castle courtyard.

The image was so vivid that I instinctively reached up to touch my own neck, my fingers trembling as I almost felt the phantom weight of a blade, the exact sensation of the steel that would soon claim his life if he was caught.

"Control your pheromones!"

My father suddenly barked, snapping me out of my nightmare.

Only then did I realize the air in the room had grown heavy. I was leaking. But it wasn't a dominant, commanding scent from a alpha. It was sour, decaying, and reeked of absolute, unadulterated fear.

I choked back my scent, bowing tightly before fleeing the room. The terror in my chest was blinding. If the palace found my mate, they would butcher him. Which meant I had to get strong. I had to find him first.

'Maybe, I can convinces him that we're not enemies?'

By midnight, the palace was dead silent.

Unable to sleep, I slipped out of my tower room, wrapped in a dark cloak. I had to see the outer walls. I had to find a way out, to look for him, to somehow make him see that we didn't have to be enemies. But as I slipped down the eastern corridor, a movement in the shadows ahead made me freeze.

Two figures stood near the arched windows.

One was my father. The other was a stranger, a man standing with his back to me. Even from the back, his presence was undeniable.

His shoulders were incredibly broad, his posture straight and strong.

I pressed myself against a stone pillar, holding my breath as I listened to their quiet discussion. My father was giving him a strict instructions about my schedule. Which means, this broadshouldered stranger was actually the Beta my father had hired to train me.

I heard my father says, "I'll give you a years. You decide when he rest, you decide what to teach him first."

"I will do my best, your majesty."

After a few tense moments, the tutor offered a deep, respectful bow. My father finally turned to walked away, his heavy footsteps fading into the western wing.

Left alone in the dim moonlight, I see my supposed tutor begins to walk down the opposite hallway. Curiosity gripped me, overriding my earlier goals.

Quietly, and nervously, I began to tail him through the shadows.

When he passed beneath a flickering wall torch, my breath hitched as I finally got to see his full face.

He was breathtakingly handsome.

He had smooth, golden honey skin that caught the light, and sharp, narrowed golden eyes. He was tall and slender, yet beneath his light tunic, I could see the distinct, powerful build of lean muscles.

And he didn't move like a common servant, he moved with such confidence.

I decided that I want to follow him more. So I quietly quickened my steps.

But suddenly, in the middle of the empty, hallway, my tutor stopped dead in his tracks.

He didn't turn around. He just stood there, staring into the dark.

"How long do you intend to follow me, my prince?" his voice echoed, smooth, calm, and entirely aware.

'How the fuck does he knows?!'

My eyes widened in sheer panic. My heart leaped into my throat. Instinct took over, I spun on my heel, pulled my cloak tight, and tried to sprint back the way I came to escape.

"Running does not suit your status," he commented, his voice closer now.

I paused midstride, my cheeks flushing a furious, bright red. Realizing I couldn't outrun him, I quickly whirled around, trying to pretend I was perfectly calm.

I clumsily put my feet together, clapped my hands tightly in front of my chest, and stared up at a random portrait on the wall, completely ignoring his gaze.

"Oh! What a... beautiful painting. I was just... going for a midnight stroll to admire the art." I exclaimed as I stared at the plain white bird with unreadable words on the frame wall.

'What does this even mean? It's just a boring bird.'

A subtle, amused sigh rippled through the quiet air. "Your Highness, if you wish to play the part of the innocent, you might want to suppress your pheromones first. They are currently flooding the entire corridor."

My hands flew to my neck, my face burning hotter. I had forgotten. In my panic, my sour, anxious scent had completely filled the hallway like a beacon. There was no hiding from him.

'Maybe, that's why he notices me...'

Defeated, I rubbed the back of my neck, letting out an awkward, embarrassed grin. I forced myself to step forward, clearing my throat to properly introduce myself to my new tutor. "Right. Well... I am prince Mace, and I just turn 20 last year. It's a pleasure to—"

I blinked.

The words died in my throat. As the empty hallway stretched out before me, the cold air swaying my hair.

The goldenskinned Beta was gone. There was no sound of footsteps, no creak of stone, no lingering scent.

He had vanished into thin air in the blink of an eye. After just calling me out for following him.

I stood alone in the dark, my hand still extended into the empty space, a chilling thought slowly creeping up my spine.

'What kind of normal Beta can move that fast?'

TRIGGER WARNING: CONTAINS MILD SUGGESTED THEMES.

The next morning, I woke up drenched in a cold sweat with my chest heaving against the mattress.

The remnants of the dream still clung to my skin like sticky velvet. I carefully peeked beneath the silk sheets, and my face instantly burned with heat.

My breath hitched in shame. My clothing was a mess, the fabric twisted tight around my thighs, damp and clinging, a clear sign of a restless night spent trapped in my fantasies.

Biting my lower lip, I stared up at the ceiling, while my heart thudded against my ribs. The memories of the night before were a blur of shadows, sharp edges, and a desperate, uninvited heat.

Arching my back slightly, I stretched my legs out across the bed, the friction of the sheets against my bare skin sent a sudden involuntary shiver straight up my body.

I couldn't help it. My hand trembled as it slid beneath the cover, tracing the line of my hip before slipping lower, seeking a desperate release from the ache the dream had left behind.

I closed my eyes, a soft, breathless gasp escaping me as my fingers moved, trying to chase away the touch of my dream.

I was now sweaty and flushed, my skin burning everywhere as my hands traveled, sliding up and down, I was caught between the lingering weakness that years of illness had left behind and this sudden, overwhelming surge of raw need.

Even now, I was already cured of the sickness that kept me in my tower. I still felt fragile, as if a strong wind might shatter me, yet there were these new feelings, the way my body burned with a fierce needs of its own.

My thoughts drifted entirely back to the encounter that had haunted me since the previous evening.

It was a memory I couldn't shake, the sensation of being pinned against a cold stone wall, the glint of a silver dagger pressed against my throat, and the gray piercing gaze of the Omega who had attacked the palace.

He was dangerous, a killer who had the power to end my life, yet he had chosen to spare me.

As a royal prince, I was used to a world of order and quiet rooms. My youth had been spent under the watchful eyes of doctors, separated from sweat of training and the realities of the kingdom.

So seeing someone so strong and capable, especially an Omega who could challenge the palace guards and paints the hallway red. It ignited a spark of intense curiosity inside me, something dark and shameful that I didn't know I was capable of feeling.

'But he hated my lineage...' A voice whispered inside my mind.

I breathed hard as I remembered the way he had looked at me with a desire to see my family fall.

The memory of that intensity made my heart race, a mix of fear and a strange, desperate longing to see him again.

My pace quickened beneath the sheets, my breath hitching in my throat until a sharp sudden wave of heat crashed over me, leaving me trembling and spent amidst my messy bed.

"Ahnghh!" I bites my lowet lips to muffled the sound.

Panting and sweaty, I shut my eyes in disbelief. I can't believe, I touched myself with the image of my omega mate who wants to kill me.

'But he did not actually kill me...' My mind protested.

Suddenly, a sharp  rhythmic knock on the door shattered the silence of my room, making me bolt upright.

"My prince? His Majesty requested your presence in the study immediately," a Beta maid called out from the corridor.

I scrambled out of bed, my knees nearly buckling. I hurriedly dressed in my green formal royal garments, my hands shaking so badly I could barely secure the clasps, attempting to smooth my hair.

My nerves were on edge as I walked down the long, echoing hallway toward my father's office, the pheromones of my own sudden exertion clinging to me like a second skin.

When I reached the grand doors, I hesitated. I carefully peeked through the small gap, but the moment I looked inside, I froze.

My tutor was already looking straight at me.

I flinched, a shockwave of heat burning through my body, before quickly straightening my posture, trying to maintain a princely composure as I stepped inside.

I bowed deeply to the king. "Good morning, Father."

I secretly peek through my hair at my tutor.

He stood perfectly still beside the desk. He was broadshouldered and he possessed an aura of disciplined calm. His sharp eyes showed absolutely coldness and seriousness as he tracked my movement, his nostrils flaring slightly the moment I drew near.

My father looked up briefly from his scrolls. "Mace, this is Kei. He is a master of the martial arts and strategy. From this moment on, he is responsible for your physical training and your education. You will follow his instructions as if they were my own."

"Yes, Father," I whispered, feeling the burning weight of my now officially tutor's gaze.

"Dismissed," the King commanded.

Kei offered a brief, respectful nod before turning to leave. I followed him, feeling small and inexperienced as I trailed behind his tall, imposing frame.

We walked in silence through the winding corridors until we reached a familiar door.

'Oh, did we have such similar styles of... Wait, why are we standing on my own door?'

I looked up confused as to why we were back where I had started. I opened my mouth to ask about our schedule, but Kei spoke first.

"Clean yourself," his voice was cold, and cuttingly loud in the quiet hallway. "Take a proper bath, Your Highness."

I felt a sudden, sickening wave of selfconsciousness. I instinctively checked my collar, wondering if my disheveled state from the morning was that obvious. "Is... is something wrong?" I asked shyly, my voice trembling.

Kei leaned in slightly, his expression hardening into a look of icy, absolute disapproval. "Your scent is undisciplined, my prince. It is heavy, thick with the traces of your morning's... distractions. It is unprofessional and frrankly, it tells me exactly how you have been spending your time in your bed."

My heart dropped into my stomach as I stared at him, bewildered. While, he calmly stared right back at me.

My throats became dry as the realization hit me like a physical blow, draining the warmth from my face before flooding it with a furious burning heat.

Of course, as a trained warrior, Kei’s senses were far sharper than mine. Despite being a Beta, he was able to pick up on the most subtle shifts in the air, and right now, he didn't just smell the lingering pheromones of an Alpha.

He recognized the specific scents of someone who had just lost themselves in their private fantasies.

And I happened to have such lack of control over my own pheromones.

Which to say, he knew. He knew exactly what I had been doing just minutes before.

"II can explain—" I stammered, my face flushing a more mortified red than ever before in my life.

Kei didn't wait for an explanation. Instead, with effortless strength, he placed a flat hand against my chest and pushed me backward into my room.

I stumbled backward, my boots scuffing the floor as the heavy door slammed shut right in my face.

A second later, I heard the distinct, loud click of the lock turning from the outside.

I stared at the dark wood, my chest panting in absolute, unadulterated mortification.

'This is one of the worst days of my life. To have my new tutor calling me out for touching myself!'

I groaned as I rested my forehead on the door. Now my tutor didn't just think I was a weak, sickly prince.

'He must think I'm a pervert now? An alpha who couldn't even control his own instincts.'

I buried my face in my palms, turning even hotter with shame.

Of all the ways to begin our lesson, he had choosen the most humiliating one.