Act 1_Chapter 6: Breaths Between Heartbeats
939 Words
The evening passed in a blur of routine. Leah moved through the shelter like a ghost, her mind anchored back in the garden. Every sound, every scent, every flicker of candlelight seemed to echo with Rafe’s voice.
"You're not invisible to me.
You're fire wrapped in thorns.
Stick around, Leah. I’ve got more truths buried somewhere."
She curled tighter beneath her blanket, the cot creaking beneath her weight. Sleep came slow and restless. Her wolf was restless too, prowling the edges of her dreams, growling at shadows she couldn’t name.
By dawn, she was already on her feet.
The morning air was sharp with dew as she stepped outside, the grass cold beneath her boots. Her hands instinctively sought the garden again, fingers brushing through rosemary and lavender, grounding herself in their scent.
“Looking for me already?” a voice murmured behind her.
She spun around, and there he was.
Ralph.
Leaning against the same garden wall where he’d vanished the night before, arms crossed, eyes amused but gentle.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people,” she said, though her voice lacked heat.
He smirked. “I didn’t sneak. You just get lost in your thoughts.”
“I work here. I’m allowed.”
He pushed off the wall, walking toward her. “Then let me help.”
She blinked. “Help with…?”
He reached down, plucking a sprig of mint. “Pretending I know what I’m doing.”
Her lips twitched despite herself. “You’ll ruin the herbs.”
“Then teach me,” he said softly, eyes meeting hers.
The moment stretched, thick with unspoken things. Something fragile hovered in the space between them, hope, maybe. Or danger.
She handed him a basket and moved to the basil. “Fine. Start here. Gently. If you bruise the leaves, they turn bitter.”
“Bitter,” he echoed, taking a seat beside her. “Wouldn’t want that.”
They worked side by side in silence for a while, their fingers brushing occasionally, sending little sparks darting up her arm. It wasn’t just the mate bond that made her chest ache when he was near. It was the way he looked at her, like she mattered. Like he saw something worth staying for.
Her voice broke the silence. “You said your mother is difficult.”
His expression darkened. “She’s… complicated.”
“Most mothers are. Mine—” She stopped herself.
He glanced sideways. “What about yours?”
Leah’s fingers paused on a leaf. “She stopped seeing me as hers when I didn’t shift early like the others. When the pack started whispering. I was too small. Too soft. Too slow. Too omega.”
Rafe’s jaw tensed. “That’s not weakness.”
“To them it was.” Her voice was quiet, steady. “My father couldn’t even look at me by the end. When they sent me away, I didn’t fight it. I think part of me believed I deserved it.”
He turned to her fully now. “You didn’t. Leah, you didn’t deserve any of that.”
She met his eyes. For once, she didn’t look away. “Why do you care?”
“Because you make me want to,” he said simply.
Her breath caught.
“I don’t know who taught you you were small,” he went on, “but I see someone fierce, even when she’s afraid. Someone who still shows up, still gives, still hopes, when no one ever gave her a reason to.”
Her throat tightened. “Ralph…”
He reached out gently, brushing a smudge of soil from her cheek. His fingers lingered.
“I don’t want to scare you,” he said quietly.
“You don’t.”
“I don’t want to rush this either.”
Her heart thudded. “Then don’t.”
Their eyes locked, breath mingling in the cool air. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her and terrifyingly, she wasn’t sure she’d stop him if he did.
But before anything could happen, footsteps echoed again.
Miriam.
Leah stepped back instinctively, and Ralph turned his face away just enough to slip back into shadow.
“Leah?” Miriam’s voice rang out, sweet and sharp. “Elara’s looking for you. There’s an inventory issue in the kitchen.”
Leah nodded quickly, basket in hand. “Coming.”
Ralph gave a slight, barely visible nod. She understood. Their secret stayed safe for now.
As she passed Lyra on the garden path, the girl’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, darting behind Leah’s shoulder.
“Were you alone just now?” Miriam asked.
Leah kept walking. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Miriam hummed, unconvinced.
Inside, Leah moved through the day’s duties, but the air felt heavier. Miriam’s suspicions had sharp edges. And Leah knew all too well what happened when people got too curious especially in a place like this.
When dusk fell again, Leah stood by her small window, watching stars blink awake.
She didn’t know who Ralph really was. Not yet. But something deep in her chest whispered that the secrets between them were less dangerous than the silence they’d leave if they gave up.
She pressed her palm to the glass, wondering if he could feel the way her heart beat faster when he looked at her. Wondering if he lay awake wondering the same thing.
And somewhere out there, Ralph sat ben
eath the trees, head tilted back toward the sky thinking of the girl with soil streaked hands and stormy eyes, who made him want to be honest in a world built on lies.
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