Chapter 9 — The Unwanted Pull
1773 Words
Mara POV
The howls continued.
Dozens of voices rising beyond concrete and steel.
Not attacking.
Answering.
She has returned.
I stared at the silver lines beneath my skin.
A line.
A claim.
An authority someone had tried to erase.
But knowing what the words might mean did nothing to explain why every wolf outside seemed to know before I did.
The radio crackled.
Darius spoke without looking away from the monitors.
“No one engages unless they cross the perimeter.”
A guard nodded. “Yes, Alpha.”
“And no one approaches the markings alone.”
“Understood.”
Darius set down the radio.
The moment his attention shifted fully to me, something changed.
The pressure beneath my ribs eased.
I frowned.
Then stepped sideways.
It tightened again.
I stopped.
Darius noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That expression is never nothing.”
“You’ve known me for two days.”
“I’ve had reports.”
I stared at him.
He closed his eyes briefly.
“Poor choice of words.”
“Terrible.”
“I’m learning.”
That almost made me smile.
Almost.
I moved closer.
The pressure eased again.
Not disappeared.
Settled.
My pulse quickened.
Darius watched me carefully.
“You feel it.”
It wasn’t a question.
I folded my arms.
“Define it.”
His jaw shifted.
“The pull.”
There was no point pretending.
“Yes.”
His expression became unreadable.
“How long?”
“Since the archive, maybe. Stronger tonight.”
His gaze dropped briefly to my hand.
“Mine too.”
I remembered silver eyes.
Claws receding beneath my touch.
His hand stopping before my wrist.
Permission.
“You said your wolf reacts differently to me.”
“Yes.”
“And now my body apparently has opinions too.”
Something almost amused moved across his face.
“I noticed.”
Heat climbed my neck.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking it loudly.”
That did it.
A quiet laugh escaped him.
Not the controlled almost-smile I had seen before.
An actual laugh.
Brief.
Low.
Human.
I stared.
Darius noticed.
“What?”
“I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Neither did most of the Council.”
“Maybe put it in their reports.”
His expression cooled.
Mine did too.
The surveillance wall remained behind us.
The damage from that conversation hadn’t vanished because he could make me laugh.
But neither had the laugh.
That was inconvenient.
I looked away first.
“When did you start feeling this?”
Darius didn’t answer immediately.
Not evasive.
Choosing words.
“I recognized a connection fifteen years ago.”
My stomach tightened.
“When I was thirteen.”
“Yes.”
The word came without hesitation.
I held his gaze.
“What does connection mean?”
“That something about you registered to my wolf.”
“Like this?”
“No.”
The certainty surprised me.
“No?”
“You were a child.”
The room seemed to narrow.
Darius continued.
“There was no attraction. Nothing romantic. What I felt was recognition and an overwhelming need to get you out alive.”
I studied his face.
“And after?”
“I stayed away.”
“I know that part.”
“You know I watched from a distance. You don’t know why I refused to get closer.”
“Then tell me.”
His eyes held mine.
“Because I wasn’t going to put something I couldn’t understand into your life before you were old enough to choose what to do with it.”
My breath caught.
“And now?”
“Now you’re twenty-eight.”
The words were quiet.
The way he looked at me wasn’t.
Something warm tightened low in my stomach.
Intense.
Immediate.
Definitely not how anyone should look at a thirteen-year-old girl.
I hated that the distinction reassured me.
I hated more that I cared.
“So whatever happened back then…”
“Is not what is happening now.”
“What is happening now?”
His gaze dropped to my mouth for half a second.
Then returned to my eyes.
“This.”
Heat climbed my skin.
Very helpful.
I stepped closer.
The strange tension in my body eased again.
Darius immediately stepped back.
It returned.
I frowned.
“You did that deliberately.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to know whether distance affected it.”
“You could have warned me.”
“You would have changed your reaction.”
“That’s called informed participation.”
His mouth twitched.
“You’re right.”
“I’m going to start recording those.”
“You’ll need a very small notebook.”
I laughed before I could stop myself.
His expression changed.
Not much.
Enough.
For one second, he wasn’t an Alpha or the man from my nightmares.
He was simply a man pleased that he had made me laugh.
That reaction was worse than the supernatural pull.
Because I understood it.
I moved toward the table and leaned against its edge.
“Try again.”
His brow lifted.
“The distance.”
He stepped farther away.
The tension sharpened.
“Enough.”
He stopped.
I took one step toward him.
Relief.
Another.
More.
I stopped before it became something else.
“That’s disturbing.”
“Yes.”
“Useful, though.”
His gaze sharpened with approval.
“You’re testing it.”
“I test things for a living.”
“Usually parchment.”
“Parchment complains less.”
“Does it?”
“Significantly.”
Another almost-smile.
I looked at him.
Really looked.
Broad shoulders still tense from the partial shift. Dark hair dusted from the collapsed passage. A faint cut along his jaw I hadn’t noticed before.
I wanted to touch it.
The realization came without silver light.
Without pain in my palm.
Without howling wolves.
Just me.
Wanting.
That was considerably more alarming.
I folded my hands together.
“How much of this is supernatural?”
“I don’t know.”
I raised an eyebrow.
He sighed.
“I know the connection is supernatural. I suspect it amplifies awareness, proximity, instinct. I cannot tell you which reactions belong to it and which belong to us.”
“Us.”
His eyes held mine.
“Yes.”
The word landed softly.
Dangerously.
“Convenient.”
“For whom?”
“You.”
His expression hardened.
“You think I want uncertainty about whether your attraction is yours?”
That stopped me.
He stepped closer.
Not enough to touch.
Enough that I could feel him.
“I don’t.”
His voice had gone quiet.
“I would rather you feel nothing for me than spend the rest of your life wondering whether something inside you made the decision first.”
My pulse stumbled.
“Why?”
“Because wanting to be near you isn’t the same as having the right to be.”
Silence.
There were answers designed to persuade.
That wasn’t one.
It sounded like a rule he had been living by long before I knew it existed.
The radio crackled behind us.
Neither of us moved.
I finally asked, “Do you dream about me?”
His face changed.
That was answer enough.
“For how long?”
“Years.”
My throat tightened.
“The hallway?”
“Sometimes.”
“The fire?”
“Yes.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Are they memories?”
“Some are.”
“And the rest?”
“I’m not sure.”
I waited.
He corrected himself.
“I suspect they’re emotional impressions. Fear. Pain. Things connected to that night. They don’t show me facts I couldn’t otherwise know.”
Relief surprised me.
“So you haven’t been psychically spying on me too.”
His expression went flat.
“I deserved that.”
“Yes.”
“I still dislike it.”
“Good.”
A guard approached.
“Alpha.”
Darius turned.
“Northern gate.”
“What?”
“Another mark.”
My palm warmed.
The guard looked between us.
“Same three-line symbol. Cut into the stone.”
“Anything else?”
The guard hesitated.
“The words are there too.”
She has returned.
Darius’s jaw tightened.
“Any movement?”
“The wolves are shifting north.”
“Leaving?”
“No.”
A pause.
“Converging.”
The room seemed to cool.
Darius looked toward the monitors.
“Track them. No engagement.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
The guard left.
I pressed my palm against the table.
Warmth pulsed beneath my skin.
The call from outside returned.
I could feel it now that I knew to separate it from everything else.
The pull toward Darius was warm.
Alive.
Immediate.
It changed when he moved.
It sharpened when he looked at me.
And, inconveniently, some of it remained even when the mark did nothing at all.
But the other sensation—
the one beneath the estate, beneath the howls, beneath the old symbol—
was different.
Ancient.
Patient.
It did not want Darius.
It wanted recognition.
I looked toward the ceiling as another howl carried faintly through the safe house.
“They’re not here for you.”
Darius went still.
“No.”
“They’re here because of whatever they think I am.”
“Possibly.”
“Not good enough.”
His gaze shifted to me.
“They’re responding to the symbol, the old language, and your presence. I can prove those three things. I cannot yet prove why.”
I nodded.
That answer I could work with.
“We need the repository.”
“Yes.”
“The coordinates.”
“Yes.”
“And whatever my mother opened.”
His face hardened.
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
“You’re going to tell me not tonight again.”
“The wolves are surrounding my estate and an unidentified creature just broke through the foundation.”
“So yes.”
“Yes.”
“Facts, not orders?”
A faint silver edge touched his eyes.
“Facts.”
I hated how much I liked that answer.
A howl sounded directly above us.
Then another.
The mark in my palm flared.
At the same moment, Darius inhaled sharply.
Our eyes met.
The pull between us tightened.
Warm.
Human.
Alive.
But beneath it came something colder.
Something reaching through stone.
Not calling me closer.
Recognizing that I was already here.
Whatever had waited beneath the Veyr estate for fifteen years no longer had to wonder where I was.
It knew.
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