Chapter 2:The Alpha's Eyes
1386 Words
“You shouldn’t be.”
The words rolled off his tongue like a warning, low and laced with something dark—something ancient. But Liana didn’t flinch.
She lifted her chin. “Too late.”
The air between them tightened. The woman behind the counter had gone still, pretending to rearrange a stack of canned beans but clearly listening to every syllable.
Riy’s eyes were impossible to look away from. A stormy gold, flickering faintly like they held fire behind them. Liana’s skin prickled under his gaze, every nerve alert, every heartbeat deafening in her ears.
He took a step closer, and she realized just how tall he was. Her breath caught—not in fear, but something else. Something hotter, heavier.
He was beautiful in the kind of way that made your stomach drop and your heart forget its rhythm. Not pretty. Not charming. Beautiful like a wolf standing in a snowstorm, unbothered by the cold, utterly untouchable.
And yet here he was.
Too close.
Too magnetic.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
She almost didn’t answer.
“Liana Rivers,” she said. “My mother was Mara.”
His eyes darkened.
He turned to the woman behind the counter. “Nora, pack the supplies she needs. On my tab.”
Liana frowned. “I didn’t ask for—”
“You didn’t have to,” Riy said without looking at her. “If you’re staying in the Rivers cabin, you’ll need more than just groceries. The woods don’t welcome outsiders.”
“I’m not an outsider.”
Now he did look at her—slowly, deliberately.
“You’re not one of us either.”
A sharp breath caught in her chest, and for a second, she wanted to bite back, to tell him she belonged anywhere she damn well chose. But that gaze of his held something deeper… not cruelty, not condescension. Caution.
As if he was trying to protect her from something.
Or someone.
Nora quickly packed a brown paper bag with supplies—cans, bread, salt, batteries, and something that looked suspiciously like wolfbane. Liana caught it and raised a brow, but said nothing.
Riy turned to leave, the bell above the door jingling as he pushed it open. But just before stepping out, he paused and looked back.
“Stay out of the woods at night,” he said. “Especially this week.”
“And if I don’t?”
His lips curved—not into a smile, but a knowing smirk that made her stomach flip.
“Then don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The door shut behind him, leaving Liana with the ghost of his scent—leather, pine, and something distinctly male—clinging to her skin like temptation.
---
She walked back to the cabin with her bag of goods and a thousand questions buzzing in her skull.
You’re not one of us either.
So… what was she? A city girl with a strange legacy? A Luna without a pack?
Or something else entirely?
The forest seemed thicker now, darker even though it was only early afternoon. Every crackle of a twig, every rustle of leaves, made her tense. Riy’s warning echoed in her ears.
But she didn’t go inside.
Not yet.
She stood on the porch of her mother’s old cabin, looking out into the trees. The air was still, too still. The wind had stopped. Even the birds were silent.
And then she felt it.
Eyes.
Not Riy’s.
Something else.
Watching.
Waiting.
She stepped back into the house and shut the door, locking it with trembling fingers. For the first time since she arrived in Ashbourne, she truly felt unsafe.
Not because of the Alpha.
But because something out there knew she was here.
And it wasn’t happy.
The dreams came that night.
Strange, hot dreams that twisted through her sleep like smoke and fire. She was running—barefoot through the forest, the ground warm beneath her soles, her blood singing. There were voices in the trees, a pull in her chest. She wasn’t afraid.
She was wild.
And someone was behind her.
Chasing.
Not to catch. To claim.
She woke with a gasp.
Sweat clung to her skin. The sheets were tangled around her legs, her hoodie halfway up her stomach. Her breath came in shallow pants, heart thundering.
The air in the cabin was thick. Like someone had been there. Watching.
She got up and walked to the kitchen window. Frost had crept along the edges, despite it being early autumn. And there—just beyond the treeline—something moved.
Not a deer.
Not a bear.
Too tall. Too still.
A man?
No.
A wolf.
Huge. Shadow-black. Eyes gleaming gold.
Her breath caught.
The wolf didn’t move.
Didn’t blink.
Then—it turned and vanished into the woods.
Liana backed away from the window. Every instinct told her to run. To pack up and never look back. But something else rooted her there—burning low in her belly. Curiosity. Defiance. Hunger.
And something that tasted too much like fate.
---
Later That Morning
Riy didn’t come to town often unless there was trouble.
Today, he was trouble.
He stood at the edge of the square, arms crossed, jaw tight, and pack members giving him a wide berth. He hadn’t slept. Couldn’t. Not with her scent still on his skin. Vanilla, ash, and something uniquely hers.
The bond was surfacing fast. Too fast.
It was supposed to be impossible.
She wasn’t born into the pack. She wasn’t part of the bloodline. And yet the moon chose her. Him.
It wasn’t fair.
He wasn’t ready.
She wasn’t safe.
Nora approached him, cautious. “She was watched last night.”
Riy’s jaw clenched.
“Rogue?” he asked.
Nora nodded. “Or worse. They know she’s here.”
That sent a cold fury through his spine.
The pack lands were on edge—unrest stirring. The council was already questioning why Riy hadn’t claimed her. Some whispered she was a threat. A distraction. A weakness.
But Riy knew better.
Liana Rivers wasn’t weak.
She was dangerous in the way only a mate could be—she made him feel.
And that… was a liability.
Still, he found himself walking toward her cabin. Every step a battle between instinct and reason. Want and need.
---
Back at the Cabin
Liana opened the door before he could knock.
“I felt you,” she said, voice low.
He froze.
She stood in a loose shirt and sleep shorts, hair wild, eyes burning. Beautiful. Unfiltered. Unapologetic.
“I felt you,” she added.
He said nothing.
“What are you doing here, Riy?”
“You were watched last night.”
“I know. I saw it.”
His hands curled into fists. “You should’ve told me.”
“Why? So you could keep me under lock and key like some delicate pack flower?”
“No,” he growled. “So I could protect you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
He stepped forward, now inches from her. “Yes. You do.”
The energy snapped between them—hot and sharp. Her breath hitched.
“Don’t do this,” he whispered.
“Do what?”
“This.” He looked down at her lips, then away. “Make me want you.”
“You already do,” she said.
It wasn’t arrogant. Just honest.
He closed his eyes like her truth physically hurt.
“I can’t mark you, Liana. If I do… you’ll be hunted.”
She touched his chest—barely—but he shuddered like she’d burned him.
“I’m already hunted, Riy.”
His eyes opened. Glowed.
And then he kissed her.
Hard.
Like he’d been starving for centuries and just found air. His hand tangled in her hair, her back hit the door, and everything else vanished. There was no world outside the cabin. Just mouths and heat and trembling skin.
But then he pulled away. Fast. Like he’d been burned.
His breathing ragged.
“I shouldn’t have…”
“You did.”
“I won’t again.”
Liana stepped toward him.
“Then you better stay away.”
He didn’t answer.
Didn’t promise.
Didn’t leave.
Because they both knew—this was just the beginning.
- Writer
