He's an Alpha

Night whispers

Chapter Six

The house felt too quiet when Lisa got back. Aunt Maureen was in the kitchen, staring out the window with a cup of tea in her hand. She didn’t even turn when Lisa dropped her bag by the couch.

“Rough day?” Maureen finally asked.

Lisa leaned against the doorframe. “Not really. Just… a lot.”

Maureen’s eyes flicked toward her, sharp and searching. “You stayed out of the woods?”

Lisa hesitated. The woods again. Always the woods. “Yeah,” she lied, her aunt would be so mad if she ever find out she went closer to entering the woods.

Her aunt’s frown deepened like she could hear the unspoken words. But instead of pressing, she just turned back to the window. “Good. Keep it that way.”

Lisa wanted to scream. Why won’t anybody just explain? But she bit her tongue and went upstairs instead.

Her room was small but cozy, the curtains thin enough for the fading light to slip through. Lisa dumped her books on the desk and sat on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was loud, replaying James’s words over and over.

Stay out of the woods. Stay away from me.

Margaret’s voice echoed too. He’s not like other boys.

And then Maureen’s warning, heavy like a door slamming shut. Don’t go near them.

Lisa groaned and sat up, restless. She pulled the curtain back just a little, eyes drifting to the tree line in the distance. The woods looked black against the evening sky.

Something shifted.

Lisa blinked. She thought it was her imagination, but there—between the trees—something darted fast. Too fast. Her heart kicked hard against her ribs.

She went closer to the window. For a second, she swore she saw it—eyes glowing faintly, staring back at her from the shadows.

Her breath paused. She stumbled back, yanking the curtain closed with shaking hands. “No. I didn’t see that. I didn’t.”

The room felt colder suddenly, the silence heavier. Lisa sat on the bed with her knees pulled close, trying to convince herself she was tired, that her brain was playing tricks.

But when she finally drifted to sleep, the woods followed her.

In her dream, she stood at the tree line. The moon was full and bright, washing everything in silver light. James was there too, half hidden in the shadows, watching her with that same unreadable look.

And behind him… something bigger. Something not human. Its fur bristled under the moon, its shape massive, eyes locked on her.

Lisa tried to run, but her feet wouldn’t move. The growl vibrated through the air, low and terrifying, just before she could scream…..

She woke with a gasp, drenched in sweat, her sheets tangled around her legs.

The night was silent again, but her heart wouldn’t calm down.

Lisa slipped quietly out of bed and paced the floor. Her fingers layed against the desk where her notebooks were stacked. She thought about writing down what she’d seen, but how could she even put it into words? I saw glowing eyes in the woods. It sounded like something out of a horror movie and no one would believe her.

She checked her phone. Midnight. Too late to text anyone, not that she had anyone to text yet. She’d only just met Margaret today, and she couldn’t exactly message her: Hey, so do glowing eyes mean anything around here?

Her hands trembled as she opened the curtain again. The woods were still. Completely still. No glowing eyes this time. No shadows darting between the trees. Just quiet, heavy quiet, the kind that didn’t feel safe.

Lisa pressed her forehead against the cool glass. She whispered, “What are you hiding, James?”

A soft thump from downstairs made her spin around. She froze, ears straining. Maureen had gone to bed hours ago, and the old house usually groaned under its own weight, but this sound had been different. Like footsteps.

Slowly, Lisa crept to her door and opened it. The hallway stretched long and dim, the floorboards creaking under her bare feet as she tiptoed toward the stairs.

Halfway down, she stopped. The back door rattled lightly, as if someone had brushed against it. She held her breath.

The sound came again. A scrape, like claws dragging lightly against wood.

Lisa’s chest tightened. She should’ve run back to her room, locked the door, pulled the blanket over her head. But her feet carried her further, one shaky step after another, until she was at the bottom of the stairs.

The kitchen was dark except for the glow of the moon coming in through the window. She could see the door clearly now, and it wasn’t rattling anymore. Everything was still.

Lisa’s hand hovered over the light switch, but she didn’t flick it. Something inside her told her not to.

And then she heard it—low, guttural, almost a growl—coming from outside.

Her heart slammed. She backed away slowly, her hand shaking as she reached for the wall. The sound faded after a few seconds, leaving her in heavy silence.

Lisa didn’t sleep again that night. She stayed awake in her room with the blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders, her eyes fixed on the dark line of the woods through the curtain gap.

When the first light of morning crept into the sky, she finally let out the breath she’d been holding all night.

Her aunt’s warnings didn’t feel like paranoia anymore.

Something was out there. And it wasn’t human.