The Alpha Prince's Unique Mate

1 | The Lonely Orphan

The room, dimly lit, echoed with the distant sounds of children playing outside. I sat alone, tracing the patterns on the worn-out carpet. It seemed like the universe had forgotten to give me a place in this world.

From my earliest memories, I've been haunted by the sense of not belonging. The other kids had families, memories of laughter around a dinner table, and parents to tuck them in at night. I had the fading scent of institutional soap and the hollow echoes of my own footsteps in empty hallways.

With each passing year, my yearning to unearth the secrets of my past grew ever stronger. Why was I abandoned? Who were the ones who brought me into this world, only to vanish without a trace? These questions etched themselves into the very depths of my soul, leaving behind an insatiable longing, a profound emptiness that not even the most devoted guardians or surrogate family could assuage.

Seated by the window, I found solace in the soft caress of the breeze outside, yet it seemed to carry with it the whispers of my inner turmoil. "Why?" I pondered aloud, the words hanging heavy in the air of my solitary sanctuary. "Why did they leave me? Did they ever think of me? Search for me?" Each question echoed in the stillness, haunting me like specters from a past I could not fully comprehend. Each day became a battle against the unknown, a relentless quest for answers that remained elusive, slipping through my grasp like grains of sand.

Yet, amidst the harsh reality, my dreams offered a sanctuary-a world where the weight of abandonment lifted, and a silver moon bathed an ancient forest. In this ethereal realm, a wolf with eyes filled with centuries of wisdom walked by my side. His fur, a blend of silver and obsidian, matched the night sky.

And then there was him-the mysterious man who loved me. His face remained elusive, a blur in the dream, but his presence wrapped me in warmth and reassurance. A love so genuine that it transcended the dreamlike boundaries. In those nightly visions, I felt wanted, cherished, and a profound sense of connection that surpassed the loneliness of my waking hours.

The yearning to meet the wolf and the mysterious man intensified with every passing day. Their presence in my dreams became a lifeline, a glimmer of hope that one day, I might find the missing chapters of my life.

* * *

The banging on my door yanked me from a dream that clung to my thoughts like morning fog. Still half-drowned in sleep, I squinted at the clock-5:15 am. Whoever was causing the ruckus was about to feel my wrath.

The door rattled under the assault of impatient fists. "Ugh, seriously?" I grumbled, my voice a croak. Pain and a pounding headache weren't the best way to start the day. I ignored it in hopes they'll go away. A moment later, the noise stopped. Message received, or so I hoped. The silence as the person left much to my relief.

Stumbling out of bed, I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. The dream lingered, a familiar dance of shadows and whispers, teasing at the edges of my consciousness. You can almost grasp it, but then it slips through your fingers, leaving you wondering if it was ever really there.

These dreams have been my companions for as long as I can remember, weaving their enchanting tales into the fabric of my subconscious. It's like hitting replay on your favorite song, knowing every beat and melody by heart, yet still finding something new to discover each time.

There's a certain magic to it, I suppose. The way the details blur and shift, leaving behind a sense of mystery and intrigue that keeps me coming back for more. It's like being caught in a never-ending story, where each night brings a new chapter to unravel.

Sometimes I feel like they are the only thing that's keeping me tethered to sanity. A chance for me to slip away from the confines of reality; keeping me sane in this monotony of this boarding school. It's interesting how our mind creates intricate sceneries of dreams offering a glimpse into a place beyond our own. In those fleeting moments between waking and sleeping, I find myself drawn into what my imagination created by my hopes, dreams, and longing, where everything is possible.