Chapter5
944 Words
The night was quiet. Too quiet.
Kieran had been tracking the disturbance for days, following a pulse in the air, a ripple in the very fabric of existence. It had called to him—low, insistent, unrelenting.
And now, standing at the edge of the clearing, he knew he had found it.
He had found her.
The girl who should have been dead.
The girl who had killed without touching.
Rhea.
Rhea knew who he was the moment she saw him.
Even through the haze of pain, even as her blood soaked into the cold earth and her body lay broken beneath the weight of the night—she knew.
Kieran.
The Ghost of the North.
The name alone was enough to strike terror into the hearts of even the strongest wolves. A legend whispered between warriors, spoken in fear-laced murmurs around dying fires.
He was no ordinary wolf.
No ordinary man.
Some said he was a curse, a phantom who walked unseen, watching the world from the shadows. Others claimed he was a god of war, the last of an ancient line of monsters forgotten by time.
But they all agreed on one thing.
Where Kieran went, death followed.
And now, he was here.
For her.
Rhea’s heart pounded in her chest, her body screaming at her to move, to run, but she could barely breathe, let alone escape. The world swayed as she struggled to push herself upright, pain lancing through her limbs.
Yet she never took her eyes off him.
He stood at the edge of the clearing, his figure wreathed in darkness, watching her with a stillness that sent ice crawling down her spine.
Tall. Unshaken. Unnatural.
His gaze swept over the c*****e—the bodies of her father’s warriors, torn from life by a force neither of them understood.
Then, his eyes met hers.
Rhea’s breath hitched.
His stare was cold, sharp as a blade against her throat. A slow, assessing look that told her he was measuring something.
Her strength.
Her fear.
Her worth.
The wind howled between them, sending a shiver racing down her spine.
Then—
Kieran moved.
One step.
Then another.
Silent. Effortless.
Like the night itself shifting.
She felt it then—that ripple in the air, the same force that had surged through her when she lost control. It pulsed around him, unseen but undeniable, like a storm coiled beneath his skin.
A predator.
A monster.
A king.
She clenched her jaw. She would not cower.
Even as fear coiled in her chest, even as her body begged her to submit, she forced herself to lift her chin, meeting his gaze with fire instead of fear.
Kieran stopped mere feet from her.
For a long, agonizing moment, he simply looked at her.
Then, in a voice as smooth as a blade sliding from its sheath, he said,
“You should be dead.”
Rhea swallowed hard. Her throat was dry, her muscles tense, but she forced the words out.
“So should you.”
His lips curled. Not a smile. Something sharper.
Something dangerous.
The wind stirred around them, carrying the scent of blood, of death, of something unnatural.
Kieran tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “You felt it, didn’t you?”
Rhea stiffened.
He knew.
Somehow, he knew.
She didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
Kieran exhaled slowly, his gaze dropping to the bodies behind her. Then, his expression darkened, something unreadable flickering through his eyes.
“Do you even understand what you’ve done?”
Rhea clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.
“I didn’t—” Her voice broke. She swallowed, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”
Kieran studied her for a moment, the weight of his silence suffocating.
Then, he crouched in front of her.
Close enough that she could see the unnatural sharpness of his features, the deadly calm in his gaze.
Close enough that she could feel the cold radiating off him.
He reached out, slow, deliberate.
Rhea tensed—every muscle in her body screaming in protest—but she didn’t move as his fingers barely grazed her throat.
His touch was freezing.
Almost… inhuman.
His thumb brushed against her pulse.
A slow, steady movement.
Like he was testing something.
Feeling for something.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, but she refused to look away.
Kieran let out a soft breath, barely audible. Then, he pulled back, rising to his full height.
“She’ll come for you,” he murmured.
Rhea frowned. “Who?”
Kieran’s gaze flickered, something like amusement curling at the edges of his mouth.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Then, with a final glance at the bodies scattered across the clearing, he turned away.
Rhea stared after him, pulse roaring in her ears.
Just like that—
He was leaving.
“Wait,” she rasped, barely recognizing her own voice.
He paused.
Didn’t turn.
But waited.
The words caught in her throat. She didn’t know what to say, what to ask.
But she knew one thing.
If she let him walk away, she might never understand what had happened to her.
Might never understand what she had become.
And she needed to.
No—she had to.
So she forced the words out.
“Take me with you.”
The wind stilled.
For a long moment, Kieran didn’t move.
Then—
He turned, eyes gleaming with something dangerous.
Something inevitable.
And he smiled.
“Are you sure?”
Rhea swallowed.
No.
But she nodded anyway.
Kieran’s gaze burned into hers. Then, without another word, he turned and walked into the darkness.
And this time—
Rhea followed.
- Writer
