Whitemoon and the Alpha mate

Chapter three:the first revelation

Theme : finally the mystery of Zara and Liam is revealed .

Zara sat on her bed, looking into the mirror, white as a ghost, shaking with every single jerk of the hairbrush running over her locks. The night before seemed haunting; it just would not let her move those piercing lights out of her mind. Besides that fear inside her clutches, something gnawed inside at her belly.

"Maybe I'm just tired," she whispered, but even those words sounded too hollow.

Her dad tapped softly on the door. "Zara? You okay in there?"

"I'm fine," she replied much too quickly; her voice shaking slightly.

"Well, dinner's ready when you are," he replied calmly.

She got up and made her way downstairs. The smell of pasta from the kitchen and its warmth did not succeed in soothing her, as it normally would have done.

Finally, he looked up and held her gaze. "Bad day at school?"

"Something like that," Zara muttered, fiddling with the food on her plate.

"You can tell me anything, okay?" he asked softly.

Zara nodded but said nothing. What was she supposed to say? Some glowing eyes showed up in the dark and a feeling of somebody watching her?

She walked to school next morning with Christabel chattering along beside her. She tried tuning in but found her mind floating off.

"Earth to Zara," Christabel said, waving a hand before her face.

"Sorry."

"Still thinking of Liam?"

Zara's cheeks flared crimson immediately. "No!"

"Yeah, yeah," Christabel said, smiling. "But you do realize he's been staring at you all morning, right?"

She scrunched her face up, turning to face the courtyard, where Liam leaned lazily against the trunk of a tall tree. His eyes stared back-green on green-and hers skipped a beat.

"I just don't get him," she said, facing away.

"There is absolutely nothing to 'get'," Christabel said. "He's gorgeous, he's clever, and he obviously is fond of you."

"I know nothing." Zara responded softly.

He caught up to her later in the afternoon on leaving from her Math class.

"Hey," he said, cool but firm.

"Hi," replied Zara awkwardly.

"I wanted to ask if you're all right," Liam said. "You've seemed. distracted."

"I'm fine," she hastened to say, but the steady gaze from him made her falter.

"You don't look fine," he said.

Zara got her way: "¿Alguna vez te ha parecido que. te vigila alguien?"

Liam's face changed; his eyes slightly narrowed. "Why do you ask?"

"None," she said, shaking her head. "It's probably nothing."

Liam edged nearer; his voice went low. "Zara, if something's wrong, you can tell me."

She looked up at him, searching for words. "It's just, sometimes I feel like there's something out there. Watching me. And last night, I thought I saw. eyes."

Liam's jaw clenched, but to her surprise, he didn't look surprised. "You saw eyes?

"In the dark," she said, her voice no louder than a whisper.

He nodded, very slow, almost to himself it seemed. "Zara, listen to me: if you ever see those eyes again, don't stay. Go somewhere safe. Somewhere with people."

"Why?" she asked, a note of fear edging into her tone.

"Because it's not safe," he replied, simple as that.

She sat in the library that evening after school, trying to divert her mind with homework. But again and again, her mind strayed to Liam's warning-what did he know? Why had he sounded so convinced this wasn't her imagination?

She ran a heavy, exasperated sigh into her hair. Her open sketchbook lay in front of her on the table, with the rough outlines of glowing eyes in the dark that she had not quite managed to keep off her mind.

"Nice work," he said in a startled way.

She turned and looked up where he stood with hands in his pocket.

"You scared me," she told him and closed her open sketchbook.

"Sorry," he said, but to her, he sounded not remotely sorry. "I wanted to check on you."

"I'm fine," she lied, since her voice was entirely unconvincing.

He sat down opposite of her, scrutinizing her face with bright green eyes. "You don't have to put on an act with me, Zara."

She let out a deep breath. "I don't know what's going on, Liam. I feel like I'm losing my mind.

"You're not," he said with so much conviction. "But there are things you don't know yet. Things I need to tell you."

"What?" she asked, her heart pounding.

He glanced around the library before continuing with, "Not here. Meet me tonight. The Dalton mansion."

Zara's stomach dropped. "The old mansion? Why?

"Because it's time you knew the truth," he replied.

She stood at the edge of the woods one night, looking up at the dark profile of Dalton Manson. The treetops seemed to lean to and fro in cadence to some song in the soft breeze, while the low moon cast ghostly shadows.

"Zara," Liam said, sudden as anything, behind her, sending a jump through her body.

She spun around, her eyes meeting his in the moonlight as he stepped out of the shadows, shining with an unearthly light in a faint green.

"This way," he said, leading her toward the mansion.

As soon as she was inside, Zara hitched a breath. It was cold, and the walls were lined with paintings and faded tapestries.

"What is this place?" she asked, shaking a little.

Liam stopped in front of a lifesize portrait of a woman with a lean bone structure; her eyes were as blue as ice. "It starts here," he said.

Zara's heart quivered at every low growl which rumbled throughout the mansion as cold bit deep inside her flesh.

Stay close," Liam said tightly.

Scarlet ribbons laced his deep voice, and before a word could burst out in turn, growls lifted louder, shades seeming to stir their way.