chapter 6
1077 Words
Marcus pov
Aria got into the car and shut the door.
That was when I smelled it.
It wasn’t strong. If it had been, I would have reacted without thinking. My hand would have gone to the door. I would have turned the car around. I would have said something I couldn’t take back.
This was faint. Old enough to have settled into fabric. New enough to matter.
I pulled away from the curb.
She started talking almost immediately. Something about an assignment. A presentation she had to work on. Her voice filled the space making the car warm but I couldn't concentrate on what she was saying my whole thought was the scent that accompanied her so I listened, eyes on the road.
At the first intersection, I glanced at her. She was staring out the window, fingers curled into the strap of her bag, pulling it tight across her chest. Her shoulders were tense. Not frightened. Alert.
My hand lifted before I decided to stop it.
I brushed my knuckles lightly against her collar, just under her jaw, like I was fixing something that had shifted.
Then I leaned closer and breathed in.
Wolf.
Controlled. Restrained.
Alpha.
My fingers tightened.
She turned her head sharply. “Why are you doing that?”
I pulled my hand back at once. “Your collar was twisted.”
“It wasn’t,” she said.
I nodded like that settled it.
We drove another block.
“How was school?” I asked.
“Fine.”
“Did you talk to anyone?”
She frowned and finally looked at me. “What kind of question is that?”
“Anyone out of the ordinary.”
“No,” she said. Her voice sharpened. “Why?”
I didn’t answer.
She looked away again. “There’s this guy,” she added, like the words slipped out before she could stop them. “He’s… intense.”
My grip tightened on the wheel.
“But nothing happened,” she said quickly. “He didn’t touch me. He didn’t say anything weird. He just looks at people like he’s deciding something.”
I kept my eyes forward. “Did he get close?”
“No,” she said. Then quieter, “Not really.”
The scent said otherwise.
“Dinner’s at seven,” I said.
She glanced at me, confused by the change. “I know.”
We pulled into the driveway. I didn’t get out right away. Neither did she.
She went back to talking. Homework. A quiz she hadn’t studied for yet. A teacher she didn’t like. Normal things. Safe things.
I let her finish.
“Go inside,” I said gently. “I’ll be in after I park.”
She studied me for a second, then nodded and opened the door.
I stayed in the car long after she went in.
Dinner passed quietly.
She ate. She talked. She laughed once, softly, like she surprised herself. I answered when needed and stayed still the rest of the time.
The scent clung to her. Faint. Persistent.
When she finished, she stood and gathered her plate. “I’m going to work on that assignment.”
“Alright.”
She paused at the stairs. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t look convinced, but she went up anyway.
Her door closed later. Locked. I didn’t need to test it to know.
I waited another ten minutes.
Then I went out the back.
The forest took me in without ceremony. I didn’t bother setting my clothes neatly this time. Shirt off. Shoes kicked aside. Jeans shoved free.
The shift came as naturally as breathing.
Bones slid. Muscle reformed. The pain was familiar enough to ignore. My wolf rose without resistance, filling the space beneath my skin like it had been waiting.
I sent the mindlink before my paws hit the ground.
Meet me at the creek.
Ethan was already there when I arrived. Standing where the trees thinned. Watching the dark like it might answer him back.
“You were close tonight,” he said.
“You were watching.”
“It’s my job.”
“I caught a scent.”
Ethan didn’t move. His wolf went still.
“On who?”
“My daughter.”
That got a pause. A real one.
“…What kind of scent?”
“You already know.”
Ethan looked away. Jaw tight. “That doesn’t mean anything on its own.”
“It wasn’t strong,” I said. “That’s what bothers me.”
He turned back sharply. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Silence stretched between us.
“You didn’t feel threatened,” Ethan said slowly. “If you had, you wouldn’t be standing here calm.”
“I didn’t say I was calm.”
He exhaled through his nose. “Damien’s controlled.”
“That’s what worries me.”
“You’re talking like he’s reckless.”
“I’m talking like he’s interested.”
That landed.
Ethan straightened. “You don’t know that.”
“Then tell me why his scent was anywhere near her.”
“He goes to school,” Ethan said. “So does she.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
I studied him. “You’re protecting him.”
“I’m protecting the pack.”
“My daughter is part of that now.”
Ethan stepped closer. Not threatening. Firm. “From where I’m standing, she’s a complication you brought into our territory without warning.”
I stiffened. “Watch your tone.”
“Watch your assumptions.”
Our wolves pressed tight beneath skin.
“If Damien’s paying attention,” Ethan said quietly, “it’s not something I’d hear about first. And it wouldn’t be something I’d discuss out here.”
“So I should worry.”
“Worrying won’t change anything.”
I nodded once.
“Keep her close,” he added. “That’s all I’ll say.”
“And him?”
Ethan hesitated.
“Damien does what Damien does,” he said. “If that changes… you’ll know.”
He turned and disappeared into the trees.
I stayed.
The night felt heavier.
Not because I’d learned something.
But because I hadn’t.
When I returned home, the house was quiet.
Aria’s door was still closed.
I stood there longer than necessary.
The scent lingered in the hallway.
Alpha.
And something else.
Something I didn’t have a name for yet.
- Writer
