Yor Regret is Too Late!

14

"I hate places that smell like dust and rotting paper like this. It’s suffocating."

The voice was deep, gravelly, and cut through the silence of the library, which until then had only been filled with my muffled sobs. I flinched, pressing my body closer into the corner of the cold wooden bookshelf until my back ached. My heart hammered so loudly that I was terrified the sound would trigger something even more horrifying in this darkness.

Just a few seconds ago, my ears had caught a deafening, violent crash. The sound of wood groaning in surrender before finally giving way to a forced impact. The thick, old library door hadn't been opened with a key; it had been kicked down until the hinges nearly snapped off.

The light from the outside corridor flooded in, cutting through the darkness in a long, sharp beam. In that doorway stood a tall, highly intimidating silhouette. A faint trail of smoke drifted from his direction, carrying a potent, masculine scent of tobacco mixed with the smell of the rain that had just started falling outside.

His footsteps sounded steady. Thud, thud, thud. Every single step kicked up the dust on the floor, dancing in the dim light. I closed my eyes tightly, my trembling fingers gripping the edge of my dull school skirt. I thought this was one of Aileen's or Asher's lackeys coming to add to my torment.

"Stop crying. Your voice sounds terrible."

I gasped, slowly opening my eyes. The figure was now standing right in front of me. He squatted down, causing his shadow to entirely engulf my weak, curled-up body in the corner.

Barrett.

The one guy everyone avoided at Garuda High School. His uniform was a mess, the top two buttons undone, exposing a sharp neckline. His black hair was slightly damp, messy as if he had just braved a harsh wind. His face, which was frequently covered in bruises from fights, looked remarkably clean beneath the dim light, defined by a strong jawline and an eagle-like gaze that was wild yet... for some reason, incredibly steady.

He didn't ask why I was here. He didn't ask who had locked me in. He merely stared at me flatly, as if my presence on this dirty floor was the most annoying thing he had encountered tonight.

Barrett moved. I instinctively closed my eyes, expecting a strike or an insult to follow. Instead, an unexpected warmth suddenly wrapped around my stiff, freezing shoulders.

Barrett had taken off his heavy black leather jacket. The jacket still held his body heat. A rich, masculine aroma—a blend of leather, sandalwood, and a trace of tobacco—instantly surrounded my senses, giving me an absurd sense of safety.

"Cold, isn't it?" his voice was low, almost like a soft growl.

I looked up hesitantly. The thick glasses I wore had slid down and fogged up from my crying. I saw him more clearly now. His sun-kissed skin, his piercing gaze that seemed capable of looking directly into the most shattered depths of my heart. He looked dangerously handsome, the kind of attractiveness that didn't need validation or attention, yet easily silenced anyone.

"Why... are you here?" I whispered hoarsely. My throat felt as if it were filled with dry sand.

Barrett didn't answer right away. He took a deep breath, then leaned his back against the bookshelf beside me, sitting down on the dusty floor without a single care about getting his uniform dirty. He pulled out a cigarette but didn't light it. He just twirled it between his long fingers, which were covered in old scars from street fights.

"I don't like being in debt," he said suddenly. He turned to me, staring with an intensity that made me forget how to breathe. "Especially a debt of life."

I frowned, completely confused. "A debt of life?"

Barrett tilted his head slightly, a faint smirk—barely visible—curling the left corner of his slightly split lip. "Do you honestly not remember, or are you just playing dumb?"

I fell silent, trying to dig through my memories while my head throbbed from hunger.

"Last year. In front of Medika Hospital. Midnight in the pouring rain," Barrett began, his voice sounding like a dark narrative from the past. "There was a wrecked guy who had just been kicked out by security because he couldn't afford the administrative fees for his mother, who was in critical condition. That guy was losing his mind, about to rob the pharmacy across the street just so his mother wouldn't die a pathetic death."

My heart raced. The vision surfaced. A young man kneeling on the pavement, slamming his bleeding fists against the asphalt in sheer despair.

"Then," Barrett continued, his eyes locking directly into mine, "there was this girl wearing glasses. She was small, her uniform filthy from muddy splashes. She ran over to that guy. She didn't ask for a name, she didn't ask why. She just placed a brown envelope in front of him. Inside was two years' worth of her savings, money she was going to use to buy a sewing machine."

I gasped, my hand instinctively covering my mouth. "That... was you?"

"That girl only said: 'Don't rob anyone, your mother will be sad if her son goes to prison. Use this first.' After that, she ran off and vanished into the rain," Barrett let out a hollow laugh, but a different kind of spark gleamed in his eyes. "I searched for you for months, Aria. I never expected that savior girl to actually go to school here, and I certainly didn't expect you to be treated this terribly at home and at school."

I lowered my head, my tears falling again, entirely unstoppable. The contrast was staggering. On one side was Asher, who had known me since childhood but chose to be blind, and on the other side was Barrett—the school delinquent I had only helped once—who had actually come to kick down a door for me.

Barrett extended his rough hand, wiping the tears from my cheek with his large thumb. His touch wasn't delicate, but it was filled with a profound respect I had never received from anyone in the Maheswari family.

"You still remember me, right? The guy who almost died in front of the hospital last year because he couldn't afford his mother's medical bills?" he asked again, making sure.

I nodded slowly, looking into his wild eyes, which now gleamed brightly in the darkness of the library.

"I'm not Asher, who needs proof on a piece of paper," Barrett hissed, his voice now sounding fiercely protective. "I know who you are. I know whose hand gave me that envelope. And I won't let a single person in this place, including that snake of a twin sister of yours, touch you ever again."

I looked up, my swollen eyes meeting Barrett's wild gaze. For the first time in years, the crushing fear suffocating my chest began to evaporate. Behind this leather jacket that smelled of pure masculinity, I felt as if a massive fortress had just been erected right in front of me.

Barrett stood up, then extended his wide hand toward me.

"Let's get out of here. I'm hungry, and I'm sure you haven't eaten all day because of that toad prince."

I stared at his broad hand. I hesitated for a brief second, but finally, I took it. As my small fingers sank into his strong, firm grip, I knew... starting tonight, my story would no longer be written in the ink of my tears alone. The Alpha Wolf had arrived, and he had no intention of letting his prey be harmed ever again.