Too Close To Breathe
1048 Words
Grace woke up choking on heat. It wasn't the gentle warmth of sunlight or the comfort of a blanket. This was sharp, invasive, curling through her chest, sliding down her spine, wrapping around her heart like invisible fingers.
She bolted upright with a gasp. Her room was dark, moonlight spilling through the tall windows, silvering the floor. Her skin was damp, her pulse frantic. She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing.
What was wrong with her? The sensation hadn't left. It pulsed, slowly, like something alive beneath her skin. With every beat of her heart, an ache bloomed low in her stomach, unfamiliar and deeply unsettling.
Grace squeezed her eyes shut. She told herself it was stress. Trauma, exhaustion. But this? This was different.
This felt like being pulled towards something she couldn't see... or escape.
Toward him.
"No!" she whispered hoarsely. "It's not true."
She swung her legs off the bed, pacing the room barefoot, arms wrapped tightly around herself. The ache worsened when she moved farther from the door, as if her body noticed the distance.
Her breath hitched.
Somewhere in the mansion, Darius was awake. The realization slammed into her, and with it came another wave, this one emotional. Not her own.
Frustration, restraint, and rage are tightly leashed.
Grace staggered, bracing herself against the wall.
"I don't want this," she said aloud, her voice shaking. "I don't want you in my head.”
****
Across the estate, Darius froze mid-step. The corridor outside his study blurred as something stabbed through his chest. His breath punched out of him, his vision flaring gold for a split second.
"Damn it," he hissed, gripping the wall.
His wolf surged violently, claws raking his mind. She's awake.
"I know," Darius growled.
The pull was stronger tonight, raw, demanding. Every instinct screamed at him to go to her, to see her, to make sure she was safe. To claim.
He turned sharply, stalking back into his study, slamming the door behind him. Papers rattled on the desk. He shoved a hand through his hair, pacing like a caged predator.
This was getting out of control. He had rejected the bond. It was supposed to weaken. Fade. Instead, it was tightening.
A knock sounded at the door. Darius stilled. "What?"
Peter stepped in carefully. "Alpha, forgive the intrusion, but you asked for updates."
Darius exhaled slowly. "Speak.”
"Richard Hale and his son have been... handled. They won't come near Grace again."
"Good. And her mother?" Darius asked, hating how quickly the question came out.
"Stable. She is resting now. We sent flowers to her ward."
"One more thing, bring Grace to the company tomorrow," he said suddenly.
Peter blinked. "The company?"
"Yes."
“As...？”
Darius hesitated for half a heartbeat. "My secretary."
Peter stared. "Alpha..."
"I need her close," Darius said flatly, cutting him off.
"Where I can see her.
Protect her."
And maybe understand why his world felt like it was tilting every time she breathed. Peter studied him for a long moment, then said, "As you wish."
Grace didn't sleep. By morning, her eyes were shadowed, her body heavy with exhaustion. The ache had dulled but never disappeared, settling deep inside her like a constant hum.
When a knock came at the door, she nearly jumped. "Yes?" She called softly.
A maid entered. "Alpha Darius requests your presence in the study."
Grace's stomach tightened. She followed the long corridors, her footsteps echoing too loudly in the quiet mansion. When she reached the study, the door opened before she could knock.
Darius stood there, already dressed in a tailored black suit, looking every inch the powerful Alpha King. And somehow... tired. Their eyes meet. The bond flared.
Grace sucked in a breath, her knees weakening slightly. Darius's jaw clenched as if he felt it too, because he did.
"Come in," he said, stepping aside.
The door closed behind her. Silence pressed in. "What do you want?" Grace asked, folding her arms defensively.
Darius studied her face, the shadows beneath her eyes, the tightness in her posture. "You didn't sleep," he said.
Neither did you, she almost replied, but held it back. "You brought me here to comment on my insomnia?" She asked.
"No," Darius said. "I brought you here to offer you a job."
Grace blinked. "A... what?"
"You will work as my personal secretary at Blackstone Corp," he continued calmly. "Effective immediately."
She stared at him, like he'd lost his mind. "You think I want to work for you?"
"You need income. This isn't a debate."
Grace's heart skipped. She wasn't sure how to feel about it. "You think throwing a job at me fixes anything?" She demanded.
"I am not trying to fix anything. If it makes it easier, you are qualified. Overqualified."
She hesitated. "Why do this?"
Darius held her gaze, his voice lowered now. "Because when you're not near..." He stopped himself. What use was it telling her that her absence made his wolf go feral? She was just a human who knew nothing about the bond.
Grace's breath caught. "So this is about control," she whispered. "Keeping me where you can watch me."
The room felt smaller. Warmer. Too close. Grace looked away first. "If I agree," she said carefully, "There will be rules."
Darius raised a brow. "Such as?" It was the first time anyone tried to bargain with him. He was always the one calling the shots and making the deal. What was it about this human?
"I'm not your servant. I won't tolerate humiliation. And I leave when my work hours end."
A long pause stretched between them, and Darius finally responded.
"Agreed."
Grace swallowed. This was dangerous. Working beside him, feeling this pull every second. But she needs the job. And a small, treacherous part of her wanted to understand what was happening to her.
"I'll do it," she said finally. "But do not mistake this for acceptance."
Grace knew she was going in too deep with Darius, but she had signed a contract, collected money from him, and now she would be working for him.
She still needed to figure out what was happening every time Darius was close to her. The shift, the energy surging.
Her life was just beginning.
- Writer
