CHAPTER 5 - BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
992 Words
The first thing I noticed was how close they were.
Too close for comfort.
I wasn’t supposed to be there.
And yet, my feet refused to move as my eyes betrayed me.
I wish I could say I looked away.
I didn’t.
Right in front of me were Kade and Elara.
She was perched on the heavy wooden table near the far wall—the one cluttered with maps and documents—while Kade stood between her knees, relaxed, unbothered, like this was nothing out of the ordinary. His hands rested on either side of her, caging her in with casual dominance.
The sight irritated me more than it shocked me.
Elara laughed softly, tilting her head as her fingers slid through his hair.
“Kade,” she murmured, her voice dripping with confidence, “you really do know how to make a woman feel welcome.”
He smirked, leaning in just enough to silence her with a quiet, deliberate sound.
“Shh,” he said calmly.
She leaned forward anyway, closing the distance between them. He didn’t stop her.
Their lips met—unhurried, practiced, familiar.
I clenched my jaw.
This was the Alpha of Nightclaw. The same man who never missed an opportunity to remind me of my place. The same man who spoke to me like I was a burden he’d been forced to carry.
And yet here he was—comfortable, indulgent, amused.
When he pulled back, his hand lingered at her waist, possessive without trying to hide it. He said something low that made her smile wider.
Then his gaze lifted.
Straight to me.
The smirk faded. Not into guilt. Not into surprise. Just into something sharp and cold—like he’d been expecting me to see this eventually.
No apology.
No explanation.
Just that look.
The silence stretched, heavy and deliberate, daring me to react.
And that was when it hit me—not heartbreak, not jealousy, but something far worse.
This wasn’t meant to hurt me.
It was meant to remind me exactly where I stood.
I backed away silently, careful not to draw attention to myself. I didn’t rush. I didn’t hesitate. I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing anything written across my face.
Kade watched me go.
His expression remained unreadable—sharp, controlled—but his gaze followed me until I stepped fully into the hallway. He didn’t call out. He didn’t stop me. He just stood there, eyes fixed on the door I disappeared through.
Behind him, Elara shifted on the table, her brows knitting together as she turned toward him.
“Kade?” she asked softly.
He didn’t answer right away.
For a long moment, he didn’t look at her at all.
I didn’t stop walking until the corridor swallowed me whole.
Only then did I allow myself to breathe out slowly, evenly—like nothing had just happened. Like I hadn’t just seen the Alpha of Nightclaw tangled in silk and whispers inside his chambers.
It shouldn’t have bothered me.
Alphas took lovers. Everyone knew that. Engagements were political, feelings optional. I had seen worse. Heard worse. This was nothing.
So why did the image cling?
The way his hands had rested on her hips. Possessive. Like the room belonged to him—and so did she.
Like everyone eventually did.
I clenched my fingers at my side, nails pressing into my palm.
Idiot.
Whatever Kade did behind closed doors was none of my concern. He had made that clear from the moment he decided I didn’t belong here. From the moment he looked at me like I was a burden the pack was forced to tolerate.
And yet… he hadn’t looked at me like that just now.
There had been no anger. No mockery. No cold dismissal.
Just that sharp, unreadable stare.
I shook my head and continued down the hall, forcing the thoughts away. I had come for first aid. That was all. A stupid mistake. A stupid detour.
Still, the echo of his gaze followed me long after I left his chambers—
and I hated that it did.
I didn’t know what bothered me more—
the fact that I’d seen it,
or the fact that I couldn’t convince myself it meant nothing.
This wasn’t a secret.
Everyone knew about him and his future Luna.
They didn’t hide it.
They didn’t need to.
So why did it feel like something had been taken from me?
I clenched my jaw, forcing my steps forward.
This wasn’t my business.
It wasn’t my place.
And whatever tight, ugly feeling curled in my chest had no right to exist.
I told myself I was annoyed—
that if he wanted to act like that, he could at least have the decency to lock his door.
That’s all it was.
Annoyance.
Yet the warmth beneath my skin wouldn’t fade.
My pulse felt wrong.
Too loud.
Too sharp.
I pressed my palm against my ribs and froze.
Since when did irritation feel like fire?I forced myself to walk away.
Each step felt heavier than the last, like the corridor itself was pressing in on me. My skin burned—not painfully, but uncomfortably warm, as if something beneath it was stretching, shifting.
I stopped.
The air changed.
My head throbbed suddenly, a sharp pressure blooming behind my eyes. I grabbed the stone wall to steady myself, breathing hard.
Not yet.
The words slid through my mind—slow, firm, undeniable.
I sucked in a breath.
That voice wasn’t mine.
It wasn’t a memory.
It wasn’t fear.
It was aware.
My pulse roared in my ears as something deep inside me stirred, stretching like it had been waiting—watching—counting the days.
“What… was that?” I whispered to the empty corridor.
The silence answered back.
Heavy.
Expectant.
And for the first time since the war—
I knew.
Whatever I was becoming…
It was done waiting.
- Writer
