The Pack is Watching
1179 Words
The Pack is Watching
The moment I stepped back into the hall, every pair of eyes turned to me.
Whispers.
Soft murmurs passed between wolves as they exchanged glances, their curiosity thick in the air.
I ignored them.
Lena, however, wasn’t as subtle. She was at my side in an instant, grabbing my wrist and yanking me toward the far corner of the room.
“What the hell was that?” she hissed, her eyes wide with disbelief.
I blinked at her, feigning innocence. “What was what?”
Lena groaned, rubbing her temples. “Don’t play dumb, Elara! The Alpha just called you out in front of everyone. He doesn’t even acknowledge most of the pack members by name. And then you just—just waltz outside with him like it’s nothing?”
She was panicking, her fingers tightening around my arm. “What did he want?”
I hesitated.
I could tell her the truth. That Kieran wanted me gone. That he was making it crystal clear I didn’t belong here.
But that would only make her worry more.
So instead, I sighed and shrugged. “It was nothing. Just a warning to stay out of his way.”
Lena narrowed her eyes. “That’s it?”
I forced a smile. “That’s it.”
She didn’t look convinced.
And honestly? Neither was I.
Because the way Kieran had looked at me—the way his voice had dropped into that dangerous whisper—was still echoing inside my head.
By the time the meeting ended, the night had stretched deep into darkness. The hall emptied out in waves, wolves heading back to their homes, to their families.
I lingered behind, not in a hurry to leave.
I was about to step outside when a familiar presence blocked my path.
Kieran.
I inhaled sharply, caught off guard by how fast he moved—one second, I was reaching for the door, and the next, he was there, towering over me.
His scent hit me first.
Smoke and pine. A wildfire barely restrained.
My pulse stuttered.
His eyes—burning gold, intense, searching—swept over my face, unreadable.
I refused to back down. I met his gaze head-on.
“What do you want, Alpha?” I asked, my voice steady despite the erratic rhythm of my heart.
Kieran didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he leaned in—too close, too overwhelming—and spoke low enough that only I could hear.
“I meant what I said, Elara.” His voice was smooth, sharp. Dangerous. “You don’t belong here.”
A sharp sting spread through my chest, but I didn’t let it show.
Instead, I tilted my head, letting a smirk play at my lips. “And yet, here I am.”
His jaw clenched. “Not for long.”
There it was. The threat.
I took a step closer, the heat between us electric.
“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” I whispered.
A flicker. Again.
Just for a second—so brief I almost missed it—his expression faltered.
And I saw it. A shadow of hesitation. A glimpse of something deeper.
But then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.
His lips curled into a smirk—cold, amused. “Of you?” He chuckled darkly. “You give yourself too much credit.”
He turned, his presence retreating like a storm pulling back into the distance.
But before he stepped away completely, his final words sent a cold shiver down my spine.
“If you don’t leave, Elara… you’ll regret it.”
Then he was gone.
And I was left standing there, breathless, furious—and more determined than ever.
“Regret? Meeting you is the biggest regret I have”
---
By the time I reached my cabin, the weight of exhaustion settled in.
I pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit space, my mind still racing with Kieran’s words.
You’ll regret it.
I scoffed under my breath.
What could he possibly do that he hadn’t already done?
I shook my head, stripping off my jacket and tossing it onto the chair near my bed. The air was cool against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
Then—a sound.
Soft. Faint. Barely there.
But I heard it.
My instincts sharpened.
I wasn’t alone.
Slowly, carefully, I turned—scanning the shadows. Listening.
Another sound.
This time, closer.
A breath.
I moved in an instant, grabbing the knife hidden beneath my pillow and spinning toward the source of the noise.
And then—
A figure emerged from the darkness.
I froze.
Because standing in the corner of my room, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with something deadly and unreadable—
—was Kieran.
I inhaled sharply, grip tightening around the hilt of my blade. “You really don’t understand the concept of personal space, do you?”
Kieran’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “You always did sleep with a knife under your pillow.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing here?”
He took a slow step forward, the light catching on the sharp planes of his face.
“I wanted to see something,” he murmured, his voice softer now—more dangerous.
I swallowed. “See what?”
He tilted his head, gaze burning into mine.
“If you’re really as strong as you pretend to be.”
Silence stretched between us.
A slow, suffocating pull.
I could hear my own heartbeat—too loud, too fast.
But I refused to let him see it.
So, I let out a small laugh, tossing my knife onto the bedside table as I leaned against it, feigning ease.
“Afraid I might disappoint you, Alpha?” I teased.
His jaw tightened.
And then—before I could react—he moved.
Lightning fast.
One second, he was a few feet away—and the next, he was in front of me, trapping me against the table, his hands bracing on either side of me.
My breath hitched.
Kieran was close. Too close.
Heat radiated off him, his scent wrapping around me, making my thoughts dangerously hazy.
“You think this is a game, Elara?” His voice was low, rough. “You think you can just come back here and act like nothing happened?”
I lifted my chin, refusing to shrink under his gaze. “I think I don’t owe you a damn thing.”
A beat of silence.
Then, his fingers brushed against my wrist.
Barely a touch. Fleeting.
But it sent a wildfire through my veins.
Kieran’s eyes darkened, something unreadable flashing across his face.
But then, just as fast, he pulled back.
Gone.
The warmth, the tension—the moment.
I exhaled sharply as he turned away, running a hand through his hair.
Then, without looking at me, he muttered, “Stay out of my way, Elara.”
And then he was gone.
Leaving behind only the echo of his touch—and a storm brewing inside me.
---
- Writer
