“I shouldn’t be here”
913 Words
Aisha’s breath hitched as she pulled the blankets tighter around her trembling frame.
The warmth helped, but it didn’t quiet the frantic beating of her heart—not with the stranger’s unnerving silver eyes fixed on her.
His presence weighed heavily in the room, thick as the scent of pine smoke curling from the fire.
Her lips parted hesitantly. “I… I shouldn’t be here.”
The words came out fragile, uncertain, barely louder than the crackle of burning logs.
She dropped her gaze, staring at the soft wool around her rather than meeting the Alpha’s piercing eyes.
She felt small under his gaze, overwhelmed and hyperaware of everything about him—his strength, his stillness, the way the air shifted whenever he breathed.
“I should go,” she whispered again, more urgently this time. “I’ll be fine… I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
At those last words, something sharpened in his expression.
A flicker—anger? frustration?—passed through his silver eyes, though his voice remained controlled, low, unwavering.
“You’re not leaving.”
Aisha’s breath caught at the firmness in his tone. She flinched slightly, misunderstandings flooding her mind at once.
“I-I didn’t mean— I wasn’t trying to overstay or anything,” she stammered, her voice trembling.
“I just… you already did so much. I don’t want to bother you. I never want to be a burden.”
Her sincerity was raw, almost painfully innocent, and it hit him harder than he expected.
She truly believed she was troubling him.
She truly didn’t see the way every instinct inside him burned to keep her near, to pull her closer, to protect her.
He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to close the distance between them.
The mate pull tugged at him relentlessly, pulsing through every breath he took. He had never felt anything like it—never this intensely, never this uncontrollably.
“You’re not a burden,” he said, each word slow, deliberate, as if trying to anchor her in place. “You wandering out there alone is the problem.”
Aisha swallowed, her gaze flicking nervously toward the frosted window.
Snow slammed against the glass in fierce gusts, heavier and more violent than before.
She shook her head helplessly. “I don’t want to inconvenience you. I already— I already caused enough trouble for one night.”
Her voice wavered at the memory of cold, of heartbreak.
The Alpha rose to his feet. The movement was fluid, powerful, and entirely too graceful for a man of his size.
Aisha’s breath quickened as he took a single step closer—not touching her, not looming, but simply existing nearer, which was enough to send her heart racing.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he repeated, softer this time but no less commanding. “The woods aren’t safe. Not tonight.”
Aisha’s brows pinched together in worry. “Because of the storm?”
He held her gaze for a long moment, the silver depths unreadable. “…Yes.”
Her gullibility—her sweet, earnest nature—made her accept his answer instantly.
She nodded slowly, not doubting him for a moment, not sensing the truth behind his tension: the danger wasn’t the storm alone.
It was him—his control, his restraint, the mate bond clawing at him every second she stayed within reach.
But she didn’t know.
She didn’t understand the reason his breathing deepened whenever she shifted.
She didn’t sense how hard he fought not to reach for her.
She only worried she was making things harder for him.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured again, eyes lowering to the blanket as if ashamed. “I didn’t mean to make things… uncomfortable.”
His hands curled into fists.
Uncomfortable?
She had no idea.
He inhaled through his nose, steadying himself. “You don’t need to apologize.”
“But I—”
“You’re staying the night,” he interrupted gently but firmly. “The storm is getting worse. You wouldn’t make it ten steps into the forest right now.”
A loud burst of wind slammed into the cabin walls as if punctuating his words.
Snow streaked outside in thick, furious sheets, turning the world into a white blur.
Aisha’s shoulders slumped as she watched it, helplessness settling over her. She couldn’t argue with that.
She wasn’t strong enough to fight through a blizzard. She wasn’t even sure she could stand without wobbling.
She breathed in shakily. “Just for the night, then.”
His eyes softened—but only for a moment, only enough to betray the smallest fraction of relief he refused to voice.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “Just the night.”
Aisha nodded, still tense, still anxious, still convinced she was intruding on a space she didn’t belong in.
She wrapped the blankets tighter again, sinking into the warmth, trying to steady her heartbeat.
The Alpha watched her—steady, silent, resisting every instinct urging him toward her.
She looked away, unable to withstand the intensity of his gaze.
He did the same, but for a very different reason.
Outside, the storm howled.
Inside, the air hummed with a tension neither of them understood the same way.
And as the night deepened, the truth settled heavily between them:
Whether she realized it or not, she was exactly where she needed to be.
And exactly where he could not bear to let her leave.
- Writer
