I tossed and turned on the bed, my eyes rolling to the back of my head for the umpteenth time tonight. The ceiling had nothing new to offer — I had literally spot every tiniest crack in it.
I groaned and turned onto my side.
Through the gap in the curtain I could see the edge of the moon. Full and white and completely unbothered by anything happening below it.
Just like how the moon goddess ignored everything that happened that night.
Must be nice.
Must be really nice to ignore her creations and watch them suffer.
I scoffed, turning to the other side of the room. That happened to be the blank wall.
It's been three days.
Three days in this room…this place and I still hadn't figured out how to leave. I had tried the gate again this morning and the guards had bounced me down blatantly.
I had turned around and walked back inside with as much dignity as I could scrape together, which honestly, wasn't much.
I flopped onto my back again.
The ceiling.
Again.
Wonderful.
The thing was… I hadn't let myself sit with this properly yet because sitting with it properly felt like standing at the edge of a river with the urge to jump in.
Just a week ago, my life was so different. I was in a dressing room that smelled of jasmine with my three best friends fussing over my hair. A week ago Aric had cupped my face in both hands and told me I was every answer he ever needed.
A week ago I had a life.
And now I was lying in a stranger's bed in a stranger's pack , staring at a ceiling that wasn't mine and the only person who had spoken to me kindly in three days was one woman, who brought my food and answered my questions in a clipped mono tone of someone who had been instructed not to say a word with me.
It was crazy how I ended up running from one bondage only to end up in another.
I pressed the back of my hand over my eyes.
Don't, I told myself. I won't forgive myself if I cried over anything now.
My wolf stirred as my nose picked up a faint scent of cedar wood. Goosebumps rose on the outer surface of my skin as I instantly recognised who that scent belonged to. It was enough to know with how jittery my wolf was being inside.
Stop it
She jabbed at me anyway.
I said stop.
She didn't stop.
The full moon hung outside my window and I lay there arguing with myself for twenty minutes before I gave up, tge threw the blanket off, and got out of bed.
————-
I was just walking.
That was my story and I was keeping it.
The corridor was empty and the compound completely quiet and I was just the only person walking around at midnight for no reason, definitely not following the pull that had been getting stronger with every passing minute, definitely not stopping outside a particular door because of the scent coming from the door.
I looked at the door.
Go back to bed, I told myself.
But somehow, I still found myself knocking
No answer came from inside. But the light didn't go out either, which I decided to interpret as an invitation. I pushed it open and stepped into the room.
The man that had been a source of my nightmare and incessant cursing every hour was slumped in chair by the window with a glass in his hand. The bottle on the floor beside him was already half empty. The moon was right outside the window, full and obnoxiously bright, and the room felt heavier than it had been the first night.
His head turned in my direction immediately and I froze, not expecting the look in his eyes. If looks could kill, I'd probably be 6 feet under and if the heat in his eyes could burn, I'd be ashes on the floor.
His look was clearly telling me to fuck off and honestly, I'd like to do exactly that too but I didn't know what change over me. I crossed the room and sat on the chair across his like I had been invited, like this was normal, like the man wasn't currently looking at me like I had grown two horns.
I might have.
"You should go back to your room," he dismissed me, drowning the liquid in his bottle at one go.
"Good evening to you too."
"It's after midnight."
"I know what time it is."
"Then you know this isn't—" He stopped. His jaw tightened and he eyes me for a moment like he was genuinely trying to figure out what category of problem I belonged to before looking out of the window as of figuring he didn't care afterall.
"What do you want."
"I couldn't sleep."
"That's not my problem."
"Clearly." I looked around the room. "Nice view though."
He said nothing but bent to picked up the bottle, and poured filled up his glass. I watched him as he took a sit before dropping the cup on the table.
I don't know what came over me at that moment but I picked up the glass and drowned the entire content.
It burned down my throat and it took everything in me not to cough or clutch my throat. My cheeks went hot as I felt his hot gaze for me and I timidly dropped the cup back to the table.
What in hell was that??
We sat in silence after that and i swear, it was the most uncomfortable I've been my whole life. I should have just stayed back in my room.
"You've been here three days," he said finally.
"I know."
"You haven't caused any problems."
I looked at him. "Is that a compliment?"
"It's an observation."
"Right." I picked the glass up"Can I ask you something?"
"No."
I asked anyway. "Why did you bring me here?"
His expression didn't change and neither did he turn away from the window "I told you. You were on my land."
"People trespass. You don't bring all of them inside and give them a room."
"No," he agreed. "I don't."
"So why bring me here?"
He turned to look at me then. Fully. Those dark eyes with the gold ring and the full moon making them more visible than was strictly necessary right now. He looked at me for a long moment and I felt it everywhere, that look, and I hated that I felt it everywhere.
"Go back to your room," he said again.
"You already tried that."
"And yet you're still here."
"And yet you still haven't made me leave." I held his gaze stubbornly "You could. We both know you could. So why haven't you?"
Something moved across his face. Brief and tightly controlled and gone before I could name it.
"Don't push it," he said quietly.
"I'm not pushing anything. I'm asking a simple question and you keep—"
"There's nothing simple about your questions."
"Then give me a complicated answer."
"I don't owe you answers." His voice was still even but there was something underneath it now, something with heat. "You're here because I chose to bring you here. You're staying because I'm allowing it. That's all there is."
I stared at him.
"Allowing it," I repeated slowly.
"Yes."
"Right." . "Because you could chose to kill me anytime you like, right? Because I'm a stray, isn't that it? You want me to mess up for you'll finally have a reason to end my life, isn't that it?".
He paused for a sec before giving me that dead, absolute eyes " Yes".
I knew he was an ass whole from the moment I saw him but I never knew his words would affect me this much. I was not going to cry in this man's room. Absolutely not. "I'm going back to my room," I said, keeping my voice steady through sheer force of will. "Thank you for the drink."
I turned toward the door.
But something closed around my wrist, tugging me right back.
I didn't have time to do anything about it — one moment I was walking away and the next my knees hit the side of his chair and I went down and landed directly in his lap and everything stopped.
For a second neither of us moved.
I was too startled to move. He was — I couldn't tell. His hand was still on my wrist and my other hand had landed on his chest to catch myself and I could feel his heartbeat under my palm and it was not as steady as the rest of him was pretending to be.
I turned my head slowly and found his face about four inches from mine.
Those eyes. Up this close the gold in them was—
His gaze dropped to my lips, slow and deliberate, like he was making a choice he had already decided on but was allowing himself to acknowledge.
"Don't," I whispered, though I wasn't sure if I was warning him or myself.
His fingers tightened slightly around my wrist, and before I could think—before I could stop it—
He kissed me.
Everything else seemed to disappear in that moment. The room, the silence, the part of me that had spent the last week holding everything together with sheer will—it all slipped away.
Every part of me screamed to stop it…. I understood exactly what this was, what it could turn into, what it meant.
And still… I didn't.
I didn't want to.