chapter 14
1162 Words
“But you shouldn’t have—”
“Didn’t you like it?”
His question came without warning, sharp as a blade through silence. It stole the air from my lungs, left me suspended between thought and response. My lips parted, but no words came. Why would he ask that? Why reduce something so tangled to something so simple?
“That’s… not what I meant.”
“Yes or no?” he insisted, his expression carved from something unreadable, steady and unyielding.
A tight knot formed in my throat. I swallowed against it, my fingers curling into the fabric of my dress as if it could anchor me. Had I disappointed him? Had I already failed in ways I didn’t understand?
“I…” My voice faltered. I looked away, unable to bear the weight of his gaze. “I liked it.”
The confession slipped out, soft and fragile, like something that might break if spoken any louder.
“Then don’t apologize for it.”
I lifted my eyes slowly, cautiously. There it was—a faint smile, almost hidden, but real. No anger. No irritation. Nothing to confirm the storm I had braced myself for.
“You are my wife.”
The words settled deep, heavier than they should have been, echoing in places I didn’t dare explore.
I hesitated, then forced myself to speak again. “Is there… anything you don’t want me to do?” My hands twisted together in my lap. It felt safer this way—clear rules, defined lines. Fewer mistakes.
“Yes,” he said, his voice firm but not harsh. “Don’t be sorry for every little thing.”
“Y-yes… of course. I’m so—” I caught myself, pressing my lips together, heat rising to my cheeks. Pathetic.
“We’ve arrived.”
The car slowed, and I followed his gaze ahead. Tall iron gates loomed before us, opening with a low, groaning creak. Beyond them lay Mason Manor—vast, imposing, and alive with something I couldn’t quite name.
As we passed through, a shiver raced along my arms. The air itself felt different here—charged, electric. My heart began to pound, each beat echoing loudly in my ears as though answering a call I couldn’t hear.
It was familiar. That strange shift. The feeling of crossing from one world into another.
The car rolled along a long driveway, flanked by towering pine trees dusted in fresh snow. Their branches glittered faintly, catching what little light the sky offered. It should have felt peaceful.
It didn’t.
Kyle stepped out first, moving around to my side with quiet ease. He opened the door and extended his hand toward me. For a moment, I simply stared at it—then placed mine in his, a small smile betraying me.
The gesture was simple. Gentle.
Dangerously disarming.
I stepped out—and everything tilted.
My foot landed on something soft, unstable. The ground slipped from beneath me, and a startled gasp tore from my throat as I fell forward.
But I never hit the ground.
Strong arms caught me mid-fall, firm and unyielding. Kyle.
His hand pressed against the small of my back, steadying me, holding me in place as though letting go was not an option. A strange warmth spread from where he touched me, a quiet, unfamiliar tingle that trailed up my spine.
My breath caught.
He leaned closer, closing the distance between us until I could feel the faint warmth of his breath.
Slowly, I lifted my gaze.
Grey eyes met mine.
Deep. Steady. Unreadable.
And somehow—achingly familiar.
They mirrored the sky above us, heavy with clouds and unshed storms.
“Are you alright, love?” he asked, his voice gentle enough to steady the air between us.
I nodded quickly, though inside my thoughts were far less composed. I was scolding myself—how could I be so careless? I should have watched where I was going. This place, this world, wasn’t mine to stumble through.
We moved toward the manor’s entrance, and my steps slowed without permission. The building rose before me like something out of a dream—massive, commanding, and impossibly elegant. Its façade gleamed faintly in the morning light, as though it touched the sky itself. My gaze lingered on the pillars, where intricate carvings told silent stories of time and legacy. This place had history—I could feel it pressing quietly against my skin.
Beyond the manor, I caught glimpses of other structures, their rooftops peeking through tall trees and perfectly trimmed hedges. They stretched toward gardens vast and pristine, wrapped in a soft blanket of untouched snow.
“That’s the main pack house,” Kyle said, his voice cutting gently through my thoughts, as though he had been listening to them. “I’ll show you the rest once you’ve settled in.”
I nodded again, suddenly aware of his hand around mine—firm, gloved, warm. I was surrounded by strangers in a place where I didn’t belong, people who could easily turn me into prey. And yet… his presence anchored me.
It didn’t make sense.
My heart should have been racing in fear. Instead, it softened.
That frightened me more than anything.
I shouldn’t trust him. If he ever found out the truth—everything I was hiding—he would despise me.
The heavy doors opened, and I stepped inside, only to have the breath stolen from my lungs. The foyer was breathtaking. A grand glass window stood tall between two sweeping staircases, revealing the manor’s back view like a painting come to life. Outside, winter ruled with icy authority, but inside, warmth wrapped around me in quiet comfort.
As we climbed the stairs, I felt eyes on me. Servants moved about their duties, but every so often, their gazes flickered in my direction—curious, questioning. I lowered mine, pretending not to notice, though their silent whispers seemed to follow me anyway.
We stopped at a door.
Alpha unlocked it, and the soft click echoed louder than it should have. The door opened slowly.
“This is our room,” he said.
Our room.
The words settled heavily in my chest.
I stepped inside, and everything else faded. The room was… stunning. A grand four-poster bed stood proudly at its center, draped in elegance. Beyond it, a private balcony waited, decorated with potted plants and a small, inviting seating area. It felt too beautiful, too perfect—like something I wasn’t meant to touch.
I turned slowly, trying to take it all in, until my gaze caught my reflection in a mirror.
I froze.
My eyes were wide, my mouth slightly open—I looked completely out of place.
Embarrassed, I shut my mouth and cleared my throat.
“I can stay in a separate room if you—”
The words faltered the moment
I felt his gaze on me—steady, unreadable.
“…want.”
- Writer
