Whispers In The Dark
617 Words
The night air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth as Leah walked alone through the packhouse corridors.
She couldn’t sleep.
Her mind kept replaying the day’s events—Damon’s warning, Logan’s promise, the silent war being waged between them.
She wanted no part of it.
And yet, she was caught in the middle.
Leah sighed, rubbing her arms as she reached the staircase leading down to the training grounds. She wasn’t sure why she was heading there—maybe to clear her head, or maybe because the tension coiling in her chest needed an outlet.
She didn’t expect anyone else to be there.
But as she stepped onto the open field, she saw him.
Logan.
His bare torso glistened with sweat under the moonlight, muscles flexing as he struck a training dummy with brutal precision. His movements were controlled, sharp, every punch landing with deadly force.
Leah hesitated.
She should turn around.
But before she could, Logan’s voice cut through the night.
“You’re up late.”
His back was still turned, but she could feel the weight of his awareness.
Leah exhaled. “So are you.”
Logan delivered one last devastating strike before turning to face her. “Couldn’t sleep.”
She folded her arms. “Me neither.”
Silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Then, without warning, Logan tossed a training dagger her way.
Leah barely caught it in time. “What—?”
“Show me what you can do.”
She frowned. “You want me to fight you?”
A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “Unless you’re scared.”
Leah scowled. Wrong move, Alpha.
She flipped the dagger in her grip and took a stance. “Fine.”
Logan attacked first—quick, precise, holding back just enough to test her reactions.
Leah dodged, barely. He was fast. Too fast.
But she wasn’t defenseless.
She had learned to survive.
With a swift pivot, she aimed for his side, but Logan deflected it with ease.
“Faster,” he murmured.
She gritted her teeth and struck again. This time, she forced him to move back.
A flicker of approval crossed his face.
They circled each other, the sound of their breaths and the clash of steel filling the night. Leah pushed herself harder, determined not to lose.
Then, just as she thought she had an opening—
Logan moved.
Too fast.
In the blink of an eye, he caught her wrist, twisted, and the dagger slipped from her grip, clattering to the ground.
Before she could react, he had her pinned.
One strong arm wrapped around her waist, the other gripping her wrist behind her back. His breath was warm against her ear.
“Not bad,” he murmured.
Leah’s pulse pounded. She struggled, but his grip was unyielding.
“Let go,” she muttered.
Instead of releasing her immediately, Logan leaned in slightly. “You’re strong, Leah.”
Something in his tone made her stomach twist.
Then, just as quickly as he had trapped her, he let go.
Leah stepped back, her heart still racing.
She didn’t like how he got under her skin.
Didn’t like how easily he could shift between brutal and gentle, dangerous and careful.
Logan bent down, picked up the dagger, and handed it back to her. “Keep practicing.”
Leah snatched it from his hand. “I don’t need your advice.”
His lips twitched. “Then prove it.”
She clenched her jaw, turned, and walked away without another word.
But long after she left, she could still feel his gaze on her.
Watching. Waiting.
And she hated how much she wanted to look back.
- Writer
