Chapter eleven
841 Words
ALINA’S POV
The house was too quiet when I slipped back in.
Not the usual kind of quiet—the calm, settled kind—but something sharper. Like the silence was listening.
I eased the door shut behind me, careful not to let it creak, and stood still for a moment. My heart was still racing from the run back, from him, from everything that had just happened, but now there was something else layered over it.
Unease.
Amala appeared from the hallway shadows almost immediately.
“You took longer than I expected,” she whispered.
“I know,” I murmured back, brushing past her. “Is everyone asleep?”
“I think so.”
Think.
That didn’t help.
We moved quietly down the hallway, our steps light, controlled. I was almost at my door when—
“You’re back late.”
I froze.
Kai.
He stepped out from the dim light at the end of the corridor, arms crossed loosely, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp. Too sharp.
Amala stiffened beside me, but I forced myself to turn slowly, like I hadn’t just been caught doing something I shouldn’t have been doing.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “So I went out for some air.”
Kai didn’t respond right away. He just watched me.
Then he took a step closer.
“Out?” he repeated. “At this hour?”
I shrugged lightly. “It’s not unusual.”
“It is for you.”
My chest tightened slightly.
“I needed to clear my head,” I said.
He stopped in front of me now, close enough that I could see the faint crease forming between his brows. Not anger. Not yet. Just… suspicion.
“And you went alone?”
“Yes.”
The lie came easier than I expected.
That should have bothered me more than it did.
Kai tilted his head slightly, studying me. Then—subtly—he inhaled.
My stomach dropped.
His expression didn’t change much, but I saw it. The shift. The moment something didn’t quite make sense to him.
“You smell different,” he said.
My pulse spiked.
“Different how?” I asked, forcing a small frown.
He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze flicked over me again, slower this time, more deliberate.
“Like the forest,” he said slowly.
I nodded quickly. “That’s where I was.”
“But not just the forest.”
The words landed heavier.
Silence stretched between us, thick and dangerous.
I forced myself not to react, not to look away, not to give him anything he could use.
Amala shifted beside me. “Kai, you’re overthinking it,” she said casually. “We were training earlier. She probably just picked up different scents.”
Kai glanced at her, then back at me.
“She didn’t smell like this earlier.”
My throat went dry.
“It’s late,” I said, my voice quieter now. “You’re tired. You’re reading too much into it.”
Another lie. Cleaner this time. Sharper.
Kai didn’t look convinced.
But he didn’t push.
Not yet.
Instead, he stepped back slightly, though his eyes never left mine.
“Maybe,” he said.
The word didn’t feel like agreement. It felt like a pause.
A warning.
I gave a small nod, then turned toward my door, forcing myself to walk normally, not too fast, not too slow. I could feel his gaze on my back the entire time.
I didn’t breathe properly until the door shut behind me.
The second it did, the tension snapped.
I leaned back against it, pressing my hand to my chest as I tried to steady my breathing.
“That was too close,” Amala whispered, pacing slightly.
“He knows something’s off,” I murmured.
“He suspects,” she corrected. “He doesn’t know.”
“Not yet.”
The words hung in the air.
Amala stopped pacing and looked at me. “You need to be more careful.”
“I know.”
“You can’t keep going out like this without covering your tracks.”
“I didn’t think—”
“That’s the problem,” she cut in. “You have to think now. Every step.”
I nodded slowly. She was right.
This wasn’t just about sneaking out anymore.
This was about not getting caught.
Amala moved toward the window, glancing out before pulling the curtain slightly. “He’s still out there.”
My chest tightened. “Watching?”
“Probably.”
Of course he was.
Kai had always been observant. Protective.
Now he was suspicious too.
I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair.
“This is getting worse,” Amala said quietly.
I didn’t argue. I couldn’t.
Because deep down, I knew she was right.
The bond pulsed faintly in my chest, warm and steady, like a reminder of everything I was risking.
And for the first time, it didn’t just feel like connection.
It felt like a countdown.
- Writer
