6. Rowan
1210 Words
She did not wake when I laid her on the bed. That was what unsettled me the most.
Eliza lay where I placed her, limbs slack, colour drained from her face, lashes resting too still against her skin. The fury and defiance that had burned in her moments earlier were gone, replaced by something fragile enough to make my chest tighten.
I adjusted her slightly, careful despite myself, pulling a blanket over her soaked clothes. My fingers hovered for a fraction of a second too long near her shoulder before I forced them back.
Enough.
I straightened and turned toward the door.
“Someone stays here,” I said flatly.
No one answered. They did not need to. The order carried weight now. After what they had seen. After what I had done.
I walked out without another glance back, shutting the door behind me with deliberate finality.
The corridor was empty, but I could feel the house listening. Whispers hummed beneath the stone and timber, pack awareness stretching, waiting. They would not question me. Not tonight.
Jackson fell into step beside me before I reached the stairs.
“She is human,” he said quietly. Not an accusation. A reminder.
“I am aware,” I replied.
“You cannot keep her in ignorance forever.”
I stopped at the landing.
Slowly, I turned to face him. Jackson held my gaze steadily. He had always done that, even when others learned better.
“You saw her,” he continued. “She barely held together. And still she does not know why.”
“She knows enough,” I said.
“She knows she is trapped,” he countered. “She knows she is afraid. She knows you are capable of killing.”
The words landed heavier than intended.I exhaled through my nose, jaw tightening. “And you think explanations will make that easier.”
“I think silence will break her faster.”
That struck closer to truth than I liked. I looked away, gaze drifting down the stairs where faint sounds echoed from below. The house settling. Guards shifting positions.
“How do you explain a world that should never have touched hers,” I asked quietly. “How do you tell a woman who nearly collapsed from fear that she is surrounded by predators pretending to be human.”
Jackson hesitated. “You have to start somewhere.”
I said nothing.
He studied me for a moment longer, then lowered his voice. “There is something else.”
“What.”
“The wolf who escorted her,” he said.
“I know,” I said.
Jackson’s brow furrowed. “You are certain?”
“I felt it,” I replied. “The compulsion was not from within the pack.”
That had been clear the moment the truth left the wolf’s mouth. A command layered over free will. Subtle. Precise.
Dangerous.
“There is only one Alpha who can do that to wolves not sworn to him,” Jackson said slowly.
Stephen was waiting at the bottom, posture rigid, eyes alert.
“I will increase patrols,” he said immediately. “Double the borders. No one in or out without clearance.”
“Do it,” I said. “And rotate guards every four hours. No patterns.”
“What about her?”
“I will handle her.”
Stephen’s gaze flicked briefly toward the upper floors. “She should not have been touched by this world yet.”
I ignored it.
“There is more,” Stephen added. “If it was him…”
“I know,” I said sharply. “We are not ready to face that.”
Stephen inclined his head. “Then we prepare.”
I dismissed them both and stepped outside into the cold night air.
The moon hung high and bright, unforgiving in its clarity. I stripped my jacket off as I walked, breath fogging as I reached the edge of the estate. The moment I crossed the line, I let go.
My wolf Leo surged free. Bone and muscle shifted, the familiar agony washing through me as control gave way to instinct. I welcomed it. Needed it. The power, the speed, the brutal simplicity.
I ran.
The forest blurred around me as I tore through it, paws pounding earth, lungs burning clean and sharp. The scent of Eliza still clung to me, threaded through my senses no matter how far I went.
Mine.
No.
I snarled, pushing harder, leaping fallen trunks, crashing through undergrowth. Leo wanted to hunt. To claim. To return to her room and finish what I had stopped.
I forced it down.
When I slowed at last, breath heaving, I lifted my head and howled into the night. The response echoed faintly from distant pack members, acknowledging, respecting the command embedded in the sound.
Do not follow.
Silence returned.
I shifted back near the river, dressing quickly, hands steady despite the storm inside me.
As I headed back, the mind link stirred.
Lyra.
I shut it down instantly.
It pressed again.
No.
I snarled aloud this time. The connection flared insistently.
“What now, Lyra.”
Her voice slipped through, cool and composed. “You cannot keep her hidden forever.”
I stopped walking.
“She is not your concern,” I snapped back.
She bristled. “ I am Acting Luna. It is my concern.”
The title tasted bitter.
She had been chosen because she was strong enough to manage the pack without challenging me. Because she understood politics. Because she was not my mate.
That distinction mattered.
“She is human,” Lyra continued. “The council will not tolerate this indefinitely.”
“They will,” I replied. “Or they will answer to me.”
“You are risking everything for her.”
“I am preventing something worse.”
“You cannot protect her from everything.”
I severed the link abruptly. By the time I returned to the estate, tension buzzed through the halls.
A guard intercepted me near the entrance, expression tight. “Alpha.”
“What.”
“There is… something you need to see.”
He led me to the main sitting room, where the television was on. The moment the screen came into view, my blood ran cold.
Eliza’s face stared back at me.
Clear. Recognisable. Human.
Missing.
Her name scrolled across the bottom of the screen. Images from public appearances, interviews, charity events. Her mother sobbing into a microphone. A younger woman beside her, face tight with grief.
“She was wearing a dark coat,” the reporter said. “Last seen on Christmas Eve.”
My fists clenched. A man, her boss apparently appeared next, speaking about her professionalism, her visibility, her absence being immediately noticed.
“She has a public life,” Jackson said quietly behind me. “People will look.”
“They already are,” I said.
Every channel. Every screen.
She was not just a missing woman. She was known.
And she was inside my walls.
The house felt suddenly too exposed. Too fragile. I turned away from the screen, mind racing. The danger had just escalated.
And Eliza did not even know half of it yet.
- Writer
