Chapter 1 of “Undone”

Chapter 1

“Leave me.”

The words came out low and strained through Anthony’s gritted teeth. His broad shoulders were rigid, his breath ragged. He was sweating, but the stench of alpha pheromones—thick, sharp, and domineering—was far more abrasive than the sweat.

Michael covered his nose with his hand, trying to breathe shallowly. His every instinct screamed. The proximity of another alpha in rut made it nearly impossible to stay still. The urge to bare his teeth and fight clawed at him, growing harder to suppress with every passing second.

“You know I can’t do that,” Michael said, with forced levity. “And where would I go? We’re literally in the middle of nowhere.”

They were. Planet Belith was a Class F world—it had breathable air, but it was unsuitable for colonization due to its extreme volcanic activity and dangerous native predators. The former was why they were stranded here, after an eruption had damaged their ship. The latter was why Anthony was in rut.

In hindsight, maybe they should have been more careful. But there was no way they could’ve known the thing they were hunting carried venom that did… this.

“You sure the long-range communicator’s busted too?” Anthony bit out.

“Yes,” Michael snapped, sharper than he’d intended. “I’ve checked twice. There’s no signal.” He sighed and started pacing. “I knew we shouldn’t have come here. We could’ve picked literally any other planet—one that didn’t want to kill us—just to scratch your itch for danger.”

Anthony’s scent spiked. He turned his head and growled, low and warning.

Michael fought the urge to react. It took everything he had not to stiffen, not to bare his teeth in response. He was better than that. Stronger than his instincts. Anthony was his friend.

“I’m not blaming you,” he said, striving for calm, for something placating. It wasn’t very convincing, but under the circumstances, that was understandable.

Anthony’s blue eyes pinned him for a moment before he turned away, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “You should,” he said curtly. “I never should have brought you along.”

Michael scoffed. “And what? You would’ve just died here alone?”

A harsh laugh tore from Anthony’s throat. “It’s not exactly comforting knowing you’ll watch me be reduced to little better than an animal before I die. I’d like to keep some dignity.”

“You’re not going to die,” Michael said tightly, his stomach twisting with unease. It had been in knots ever since the medical droid had delivered the prognosis: Anthony was unlikely to survive this unnatural rut. It wasn’t a normal rut. They had no antidote for the strange venom that had triggered it, and they were stranded—far from civilization, far from any omegas who might have helped Anthony through it.

“We both know that’s not true,” Anthony said without looking at him. He drew in a slow breath and then added quietly, “I can feel it, Michael.”

A shiver crawled up Michael’s spine.

“Feel what?” he said.

“Feel my control slipping. I’m hanging on by a thread,” Anthony muttered, heaving a sigh as he rubbed a hand over his face. “And your presence isn’t helping. You stink. No offense.”

Michael let out a humorless laugh. “None taken. You don’t exactly smell like flowers, either.”

Honestly, it was a miracle they hadn’t come to blows yet. As a rule, alphas didn’t tolerate each other’s presence during a rut—territorial instincts always flared too hot, friendship be damned.

Then again, the fact that they were such good friends in the first place was a bit of a miracle, too.

Anthony Blake had first reached out to him five years ago to apologize on his younger brother’s behalf after Liam had very publicly rejected Michael’s suit. They’d ended up grabbing a drink, discovered a few shared interests—like hunting and racing—and something had just clicked.

It hadn’t been just the hobbies, though. Michael’s laid-back attitude balanced Anthony’s dry sarcasm and biting cynicism. In the years since, there hadn’t been many days when Michael hadn’t seen him.

Michael knew their closeness surprised people. Even setting aside the awkwardness of his failed courtship of Anthony’s brother, most alphas struggled to maintain real friendships. Their territorial instincts usually got in the way. But it had never been like that with him and Ant.

That said, it would be a lie to say they’d never butted heads. They had. There were times Anthony’s abrasive, domineering personality grated on Michael’s nerves. Times when his sharp alpha scent made Michael’s hackles rise, instinct flaring hot with the urge to assert dominance.

But he was more than his instincts. He liked Anthony as a person. Liked him enough to push back against his own nature. Their camaraderie ran deeper than the occasional clash. Over the past five years, they’d grown tight. Closer than most would expect from two alphas. Was it sad that Anthony was probably his closest friend these days? Maybe.

In Michael’s defense, loneliness had always followed him. He’d inherited the title of Earl of Terlaine at fifteen, and with it, a heavy isolation that shattered what childhood friendships he had. Being an only child hadn’t helped, nor had the fact that his mother was the only other member of his pack.

Maybe that was why he’d latched onto Anthony when the other alpha had reached out to him. In many ways, Anthony understood him: although he was just a viscount, he was a rich and influential one with ties to the royal family, and he had a bit of empty nest syndrome after all his siblings got married and left home.

There was one thing Michael couldn’t relate to Anthony on: his love for danger. After years in the military, Ant was clearly still struggling to adjust to civilian life. Truth be told, Michael privately thought Anthony was a bit of an adrenaline junkie. That was why he’d hesitated when his friend invited him to come along to Planet Belith. While Michael enjoyed hunting as much as any alpha, he didn’t share Anthony’s passion for chasing game in dangerous, wild places.

But he had grown tired of the social season, tired of attending endless balls and smiling politely at omegas batting their eyes at him. He’d have to choose one soon enough; his mother was losing patience and wasn’t impressed that he’d been dragging his feet ever since his failed courtship of Liam Blake. Michael understood her reasoning and fully intended to select a mate this year. Still, he needed a break from the ceaseless parties. Sometimes it felt like he was prey, hunted by ambitious omegas and their scheming parents. Not that it was new—he was one of the richest, most powerful alphas in the country. Of course he was a prize; he’d always known that. But fuck, he was exhausted by it all. A break had seemed like a good idea, so he’d accepted Anthony’s invitation.

It hadn’t been a good idea. Putting it mildly.

But then again, if he hadn’t been there, his best friend would have died alone.

He won’t die, Michael snapped, irritated by his own thoughts, but the knot in his gut only tightened. No matter what he told himself, he didn’t really believe it. Medical droids rarely made mistakes.

“You’ll have to sedate me,” Anthony said, breaking the strained silence.

Michael frowned at his back. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m serious. You’ll need to sedate me while I’m still rational enough to allow it.” He breathed in deeply. “I’m close to losing it. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I’m an alpha, too. I can handle you, no matter how aggressive you become.”

Anthony laughed harshly. “We both know I could kill you before you even noticed it.”

Michael bristled, his alpha pride rearing its ugly head again, but rationally, he knew his friend was right. Anthony had been in the military for years. They might be the same height and build—both tall, well-built alphas—but Anthony’s training made Michael seem like a privileged, idle aristocrat in comparison, no matter how fit he was.

“All right,” he relented, heading back to the ship for the sedatives he’d spotted in the small medbay.

By the time he returned to his friend, Anthony’s condition had worsened. He was hunched over, breathing heavily, and his foul, aggressive scent sent Michael’s anxiety skyrocketing.

“Hurry up,” Anthony said without looking at him.

Michael uncapped an injector and approached him. Not allowing himself to think about it too much, he pressed the injector against Anthony’s neck and activated it.

Anthony shuddered, his body rigid with tension. But he didn’t attack. Michael took that as a win.

After a long few minutes, some of the tension left Anthony’s body. He began to slump over. Michael helped him lean against a thick tree trunk.

“You okay?” he said quietly.

Anthony nodded, his eyes glazed and unfocused. “Thank you,” he said roughly, clearly struggling to keep his gaze on Michael’s face. “I’m glad you’re here—that it’s you. You’re a good friend.”

Michael swallowed. Anthony was talking as though he was saying goodbye.

“You’ll be okay, man,” he said hoarsely.

Anthony gave him a wry smile and shook his head. “Tell my brothers I’m sorry they had to lose me too. I…” He trailed off, his eyes closing.

He was out.

Michael inhaled shakily, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach as he scanned their surroundings. The orange rays of the planet’s sun bathed their camp in warm light, but the silence was deafening.

He was stranded on an uninhabited world with his unconscious, dying friend—and there was nothing he could do.

How many days would pass before anyone came looking?

How many hours did Anthony have left before it was too late?

© 2025 Alessandra Hazard

November 14th