Chp 7
1362 Words
Zyra POV
Dael stepped away from me, Not far.
Just enough for the air to return to my lungs… and burn on the way in.
His chest rose like he was holding back something violent inside him. His eyes weren’t on my body anymore, they were somewhere else, distant, as if he was wrestling with himself.
“You shouldn’t mess with me, Zyra.”
His voice didn’t sound like a threat this time.
It sounded like a warning, a real one.
I pulled my shirt down with trembling hands, desperately trying to make my heartbeat quiet, trying to hide the shake in my breath. But he heard everything. He always did.
“I wasn’t…”
“Yes, you were.”
He didn’t even raise his voice. It was the calm that terrified me. “And next time, I might not stop.”
Something twisted painfully in my stomach.
He stepped back again, jaw clenched like he hated the space but needed it.
“Keep the ring,” he muttered.
My heart stopped. “…What?”
His gaze flicked to mine for a brief second, cold, unreadable, a glacier trapped in a man.
“If you took it because you’re curious, then fine. Keep it.”
His voice sharpened.
“But stay out of my way.”
My throat tightened. “Dael, I didn’t…”
“Enough.”
He cut me off with a single word.
He looked like he wanted to turn away. Like this conversation was over. Like I could finally escape.
So I moved toward the exit, legs numb, bag held like a shield. My fingers brushed the doorknob.
“Stop.”
The word wasn’t loud.
But it ripped straight through my spine. I didn’t turn. Couldn’t.
His voice shifted lower, darker, ancient. Like the wolf in him had taken one step forward.
“Turn around.”
My whole body locked. “Dael… I just want to leave.”
“Zyra.”
My name wasn’t spoken, it was dragged out of him like an instinct.
“Turn around.”
I turned,slowly and carefully. Like prey trying not to provoke a predator.
His eyes weren’t on my face.They were… On my hair.
My breath stuttered. I reached up instinctively, fingers grazing the braid that had loosened. One strand had slipped out, falling across my cheek.
Silver.
My blood froze.
No.
No, no, no…
It was supposed to stay hidden.
Always.
I dyed it daily for this reason. Because silver isn’t just a color, it’s a curse. A death sentence. A reminder of a pack that was wiped out. A reminder of me.
Dael’s expression was drained of everything, anger, arrogance, control.
Something else replaced it.
Recognition.
Shock and something terrifyingly close to rage. Not at me.
At the realization of what I was.
His voice came out rough, like it scraped its way out of his chest:
“…Where did you get that hair, Zyra?”
I felt the world tilt. The room felt too small.
My throat closed up completely.
“I…I don’t…” The lie crumbled uselessly in my mouth.
Dael stepped toward me.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Like every step was a piece of a puzzle he had finally, violently solved.
“You shouldn’t exist.” His whisper was soft.
Too soft.
My heartbeat crashed painfully against my ribs.
His eyes lifted to mine, dark, burning, locked onto me like he was seeing me for the first time in a way that made my stomach twist.
“That color…”
His jaw clenched.
“That bloodline…”
Another step.
I stumbled back until the door pressed into my spine.
“You’re a silver wolf.” The words struck like a blade.
My worst secret.
The one that damned my entire pack.
The one I spent years hiding.
Now exposed.
Now in front of the one person who should never know, because Dael wasn’t just any alpha. He was one of the wolves sent to destroy us.
And the moment he saw my hair,
I realized he didn’t hate me by accident. He hated me because somewhere deep in him… He had always known I was the thing he was meant to hunt.
Suddenly, Dael moved fast, so fast the air snapped against my cheek.
One second he was across the room.
The next, he was right in front of me, chest pressed to mine, his breath crashing into my face hot, furious, wild.
My back slammed into the wall before I even realized he’d touched me.
I sucked in a sharp breath.. and froze.
His already crimson eyes were darker now.
Redder.
Burning like fresh blood over glowing coals.
A rage I’d never seen in anyone flashed inside them.
A rage that wasn’t human.
A rage that knew exactly what I was.
His hand shot up. Not to my arm.
Not to my shirt. My throat.
His fingers wrapped around my neck with perfect precision, not tight enough to cut off air but tight enough to remind me he could.
Any second.
Any breath.
Any twitch of his fingers.
“You don’t belong here.”
His voice vibrated against my skin, low and lethal.
I tried to speak but nothing came out.
Fear curled up inside me like a small animal.
His grip tightened. Just enough to make the room tilt.
“Silver wolves don’t get to hide,” he growled. “They don’t get to slip into academies and pretend to be normal.”
“D-Dael…”
My voice cracked, barely squeezed past his fingers. His lips pulled back in a snarl.
“Don’t say my name.” The words were a whip across my throat.
“You should’ve dyed your whole soul, not just your hair. Maybe then you would’ve lived longer.”
My breath shattered in my chest.
He leaned in closer, so close his forehead nearly brushed mine. I could feel each furious exhale, hot and trembling against my lips.
“You think I won’t kill you?” he whispered.
My blood iced.
Not because I didn’t believe him.
But because part of me sensed something deeper underneath his rage recognition, yes, but also something that sounded dangerously like… pain.
His fingers pressed harder into my throat, forcing my eyes to meet his.
“You have one hour,” he said, each word carved from fury. “One. Hour.”
My heart thrashed so violently I thought it might break through my ribs.
“Pack your things. Leave this academy. Vanish.”
His thumb dragged over the pulse hammering beneath my skin like he was memorizing it before he ended it.
“If you’re still here when the hour ends…”
His breath hitched, not with hesitation but with a darkness so sharp it sliced right into me.
“I’ll make sure your life becomes something you beg to escape.” My knees buckled.
Dael didn’t let go.
Not right away.
He stared at me like I was every nightmare he’d ever had come to life, every tragedy, every enemy, every cursed moon.
Then, he released me.
Air crashed into my lungs so fast I staggered, clutching my throat, vision swimming.
Dael didn’t move back.
He stood there watching me crumble, chest rising and falling hard, his hands shaking at his sides like he wanted to strangle me again or pull me closer.
I didn’t know, I didn’t want to know.
His voice dropped to a whisper filled with lethal intent:
“You have sixty minutes, Zyra. After that…”
His eyes locked onto mine, burning through every layer of fear I had left.
“…I stop pretending I don’t want you dead.”
And then he turned away.
Not slowly.
Not gracefully.
Like if he looked at me for one more second, he’d lose whatever thin thread of control he had left.
He left the room.
The door slammed so violently the walls shook.
I sank to the floor, hands trembling around my throat, the echo of his fingers still burning into my skin.
One hour.
One hour to decide if I ran Or if I stayed and faced the monster who had just admitted he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from killing me.
- Writer
