Chapter Six: Cracks in the Silence
1024 Words
By the time Ayla returned to the house, the sun had dipped low, painting the sky in deep gold and soft purple. The air felt heavier now, like the world knew something had shifted—and refused to let it settle.
She paused just outside the door, hand hovering over the handle.
Act normal.
That’s all she had to do.
Just act like nothing happened.
Like her chest didn’t tighten every time she thought of him.
Like she hadn’t just been told she had a second mate… who already belonged to her sister.
Ayla exhaled slowly and stepped inside.
The house was warm, filled with the comforting noise of voices and movement. Her brothers were already at the table, arguing over something meaningless, while her father sat at the head, calm as ever.
And Nyla—
Nyla stood near the table, smiling.
Happy.
Unaffected.
Ayla’s chest ached.
Then she saw him.
Lucan.
Seated beside Nyla like he had always been there.
Like he belonged there.
Like nothing had changed.
But it had.
The moment Ayla stepped into the room, his body stilled—just slightly.
His eyes lifted.
And locked onto hers.
The bond snapped tight.
Ayla’s breath hitched before she could stop it.
She quickly looked away, forcing her feet to move, to act normal, to sit down like everything was fine.
“Finally decided to join us?” one of her brothers teased.
“Yeah,” she muttered, pulling out a chair. “I was outside.”
“Brooding?” another added.
“Thinking,” she corrected.
“Same thing.”
Normally, she would’ve laughed.
Tonight, she didn’t.
Dinner began like any other—plates passed around, food shared, small conversations overlapping. But for Ayla, everything felt distant, muted under the constant pull in her chest.
She didn’t look at Lucan.
Not once.
But she could feel him.
Every shift.
Every breath.
Every glance he tried not to make.
It was unbearable.
“So,” her father said, breaking through the noise, his gaze settling on Lucan. “Everything settled with your pack?”
Lucan nodded once. “For now. Things are… stabilizing.”
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
Ayla clenched her hands in her lap.
“And the children?” her father asked.
“They’re well,” Lucan replied, softer now. “They’ve been asking about Nyla.”
Nyla smiled warmly, leaning slightly into him. “I missed them.”
Ayla’s stomach twisted.
She risked a glance.
Just one.
And immediately regretted it.
The way Nyla looked at him—soft, trusting, full of love.
The way his arm rested near her, protective without effort.
That was real.
That was established.
That was hers.
Ayla looked away quickly, her chest tightening painfully.
“You okay?” Nyla asked suddenly.
Ayla blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“You’ve been quiet,” Nyla said, tilting her head slightly. “That’s not like you.”
Ayla forced a small smile. “Just tired.”
Nyla studied her for a moment longer than necessary.
Then nodded.
But she didn’t look convinced.
⸻
Dinner dragged on.
Every second stretching longer than the last.
Ayla barely touched her food. Every time she tried, the tightness in her chest made it impossible to swallow.
Across the table, Lucan was no better.
He spoke when spoken to. Answered calmly. Acted normal.
But once—
Just once—
Their hands brushed.
It was nothing.
An accident.
Barely a second.
But it felt like fire.
Ayla jerked her hand back instantly, her breath catching as the bond flared so intensely it made her dizzy.
Lucan froze.
Just for a second.
Then continued like nothing happened.
But his jaw tightened.
And Nyla saw it.
Her eyes flicked between them.
Something small.
But noticeable.
A crack.
⸻
Later that night, Ayla escaped again.
This time, she didn’t run.
She walked.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like if she moved too fast, everything would fall apart.
The night air was cool against her skin, the forest quiet except for the soft rustling of leaves. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to contain the storm inside her chest.
“This is a mess,” she whispered.
“You’re not wrong.”
Ayla closed her eyes.
“Seriously?” she muttered. “Do you just follow me now?”
Footsteps approached behind her.
Lucan stepped into view again, stopping a few feet away.
Not too close.
Not far enough.
“You didn’t eat,” he said.
She scoffed lightly. “You noticed?”
“I notice everything right now,” he replied.
That shut her up.
The tension between them stretched again, thick and suffocating.
Ayla shook her head. “This can’t keep happening.”
“I know.”
“Then fix it.”
His expression darkened slightly. “If I could, I would.”
The honesty in that made her chest ache.
Ayla looked away, staring into the trees. “She’s my sister,” she said quietly. “She loves you. You have a family.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then act like it,” she snapped, turning back to him. “Because right now? This—” she gestured between them “—this isn’t fair to her.”
His jaw tightened. “You think I don’t know that?”
“Then why are you here again?”
Silence.
Then—
“Because staying away isn’t working either.”
That hit harder than she expected.
The bond pulsed again, stronger now in the quiet.
Ayla stepped back instinctively.
“Don’t,” she said, her voice low. “Don’t get used to this. I’m not… I’m not doing this with you.”
Lucan’s gaze softened slightly—but not in a comforting way.
In a knowing way.
“You don’t get to choose how this starts,” he said. “Only what you do with it.”
Her heart pounded.
“I already chose,” she said firmly. “I’m choosing my sister.”
Something flickered in his eyes.
Respect.
Conflict.
Pain.
“Good,” he said quietly.
But neither of them moved.
Neither of them left.
And the bond—
Only tightened.
- Writer
