Chapter 2
1455 Words
Kael
When she ran, I felt it.
Not just movement, but something sharper. A disturbance that did not belong to the night. It cut through the forest and settled under my skin, irritating and impossible to ignore.
I stopped mid step.
It was wrong.
Not the kind of presence that blended into the wild. Not prey. Not one of mine. Something else. Something unfamiliar and too loud for someone who should have known better than to move like that in this territory.
I exhaled slowly, trying to shake it off.
Not my problem.
And yet my body had already turned toward it.
I swore under my breath and moved.
The forest bent easily around me as I picked up pace, silent, controlled. My senses sharpened, locking onto the rhythm of whoever it was. Too fast. Too uneven. Not fear exactly, but not calm either. Reckless.
Annoying.
A branch snapped somewhere ahead, followed by a stumble. I caught the shift in balance before I even saw her. Whoever she was, she was not paying attention.
That alone irritated me.
I slowed as I approached, keeping to the shadows. For a moment, I only watched.
She moved again, pushing forward like she had something to prove. There was a kind of stubbornness in it. Not skill. Not discipline. Just refusal.
I almost turned back.
Almost.
Then she tripped.
It was quick. A misstep over a root she should have seen. I moved without thinking, stepping out just enough to close the distance.
My hand caught her arm before she hit the ground.
She froze.
So did I.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then she jerked back, pulling out of my grip like I had burned her.
“Watch it,” I said, my voice low, more irritated than concerned.
She turned fully then, eyes sharp, already defensive.
“I didn’t ask for help.”
Of course not.
I straightened, letting my hand fall back to my side. “Then try not to fall next time.”
Her expression tightened, something flashing across her face that made her look like she was deciding whether to argue or walk away.
She chose both.
“I’m fine,” she said, already stepping past me. “You can go.”
I did not move.
She took a few more steps, then slowed when she realized I was still there. I could hear the slight change in her breathing. Not fear. Awareness.
Good.
“You’re in the wrong part of the forest,” I said.
She stopped.
Slowly, she turned back to face me. There was something in her eyes now. Not just irritation. Challenge.
“And you own it?” she asked.
I did not answer right away.
That was answer enough.
Her gaze dragged over me, measuring, unimpressed. “Figures.”
I almost laughed.
Almost.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” I said instead.
It came out sharper than I intended.
Her expression shifted again, but this time it was subtle. Not softer. Just… quieter for a second before the edge came back.
“I can handle myself.”
I looked at her properly then.
Not in the way I would study a threat. Just enough to confirm what I already suspected. She was not from here. Not from any pack that mattered in this territory. There was something unpolished in the way she moved. Not weak. Just… untrained.
And still, she had made it this far.
That should not have impressed me.
It did anyway.
“Clearly,” I muttered.
Her jaw tightened. “If you’re done, I’ll be on my way.”
She turned again, this time not waiting.
I should have let her go.
I did not.
Instead, I followed.
Not close enough to crowd her. Not far enough to pretend I was not there.
I told myself it was because she was a liability moving around here like that. Because if something went wrong, it would be on my land. My responsibility.
That was the only reason.
Not the way I could still feel that strange pull under my skin. Not the way my senses refused to let go of her presence.
She noticed after a while.
“You always follow people around, or am I just lucky?” she asked without turning.
I ignored that.
“You’re going to get yourself hurt,” I said.
She stopped again, slower this time. Then she turned, fully facing me.
There it was again. That look. Like she refused to back down from anything, even when she probably should.
“Then leave,” she said. “Problem solved.”
It should have been that simple.
It was not.
“Not until you’re out of this section.”
Her brows pulled together slightly. Suspicion now.
“Why?”
Because I could not seem to walk away.
Because something about her presence felt wrong in a way I could not explain.
Because my instincts would not shut up.
“Because you don’t know where you are,” I said instead.
That earned me a short, humorless laugh.
“You don’t know me.”
“I don’t need to.”
That hit.
I saw it in the way her shoulders stiffened, just slightly.
Good.
Let her be annoyed. It made this easier.
We moved again, but this time the silence felt different. Tighter. Charged in a way that had nothing to do with whatever strange awareness kept pulling at me.
She kept her distance now. Not running, not slowing, just… aware.
I stayed behind her, watching.
Not her exactly. The way she moved. The way she reacted to the forest. The mistakes she almost made and corrected at the last second.
She was not as careless as I thought.
Still not careful enough.
She slipped again, not fully this time, just enough to throw her off balance.
I caught her elbow again before I could stop myself.
She stilled.
This time, she did not pull away immediately.
Her head turned slightly, just enough to glance at me.
Up close, I could see the tension in her face. The way she held herself like she was braced for something.
“Let go,” she said.
Quiet. Controlled.
I did.
She stepped away immediately, putting space between us again.
“Stop doing that.”
“Then stop giving me a reason to.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I said I’m fine.”
I tilted my head slightly. “You’re not.”
That did it.
“Why do you care?” she snapped.
The question landed harder than it should have.
I did not have an answer that made sense.
So I gave her the truth I could stand.
“I don’t,” I said.
The lie sat between us, obvious.
She saw it.
I knew she did.
But she did not push.
Instead, she looked away first.
“Good,” she said.
We reached the ridge not long after.
The forest opened up, the valley stretching out below us under the moonlight. For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The air felt different up here. Still. Quiet.
She stepped closer to the edge, looking out.
I stayed where I was.
Distance.
Safer that way.
“You’re still here,” she said after a while.
It was not a question.
“Making sure you leave,” I replied.
She huffed softly. “Persistent.”
“Careless,” I corrected.
She glanced back at me, something unreadable in her expression now.
“You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t need to,” I said again.
But this time, it did not sound as certain.
Her gaze lingered for a second longer, like she was trying to figure something out. Then she looked away.
“Right.”
Silence settled again.
This time, it was not as sharp.
Just… there.
Uncomfortable, but not unbearable.
I shifted my weight slightly, forcing myself to step back.
“This is as far as I go,” I said.
She nodded once, not looking at me.
“Good.”
I waited.
She did not move.
Neither did I.
Something about that felt wrong too.
Like leaving now would mean something I did not understand.
I clenched my jaw.
This was ridiculous.
“She’s just someone passing through,” I muttered under my breath.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
Another pause.
Then, finally, she stepped away from the edge.
“Then go,” she said.
So I did.
I turned and disappeared back into the trees without another word.
But even as the forest swallowed me, I could still feel it.
That same sharp, irritating pull.
Like something unfinished.
And I knew, without understanding why, that this would not be the last time.
- Writer
