CHAPTER 3
1310 Words
KAEL'S POV
She was going to be a problem.
I knew that the second I saw her standing at the gate, her coat too thin, her eyes too wide, and that mouth—set with defiance she didn’t yet understand, was dangerous here.
Mira.
She looked nothing like her aunt. The woman who owed me her life had been cold, careful, quiet. Mira was young and untamed. She watched everything, asked too many questions, and worst of all—she felt things.
This house feeds on emotion. The walls remember. The blood remembers.
And so do I.
I stood in my study, the one place in this godforsaken house that still felt like mine, watching the fire flicker against the glass of the whiskey decanter. The sun had long since disappeared behind the trees. The others would wake soon. I had maybe another hour before I needed to lock myself away.
Already, my senses were sharpening. I could hear her upstairs, pacing. Her footsteps were light, but I heard them. She was restless. Afraid.
Good.
She needed to be.
The first night she arrived, the forest responded immediately. The wolves started howling earlier than usual. The scratching at her door wasn’t from one of them—it was from one of us.
I’d handled it. Silently. Quickly.
They wouldn’t try again. Not yet.
But she didn’t know what we were, not really. And if she kept pressing, kept poking into corners of this house that were better left dark…
I poured a drink and sat down.
She was already breaking rules. Trying to open the east wing? Bold—or foolish.
And the way she spoke to me, like she expected answers. Like I owed her something.
I didn’t.
What she was—what she represented—was a broken agreement. A last-minute trade by a desperate woman trying to avoid death.
And now she was here.
Living.
Breathing.
Soft.
I gritted my teeth and shut my eyes.
I hadn’t shifted in two weeks.
Too long.
I could feel the weight of it under my skin. The wolf pared beneath my ribs, snarling at the cage I’d built for it. The moon didn’t care for restraint. Neither did the others.
They asked me again this morning if they could hunt.
I’d said no.
“Not while she’s here,” I told them.
“She’s not marked,” one of them said, eyes flashing. “She’s not one of us.”
“She’s mine,” I replied.
That shut them up. For now.
But it wouldn’t last.
The longer she stayed unclaimed, the more the pack would circle. They could smell that she didn’t belong here. That she was human. That she was weak.
And in our world, weakness means blood.
I tried to stay away from her.
She made it difficult.
Even now, I could smell her in the air—honeysuckle and something else, something warmer. Her fear was subtle, but it laced the hallways. The walls were already learning her rhythm.
I’d watched her reach for the east wing door. I’d stood at the end of the hall and waited.
She didn’t flinch when she saw me.
Most people did.
She just stared at me like she wanted to understand me.
I couldn’t let her.
I told her not to open the doors she couldn’t close.
That wasn’t just a warning.
It was a promise.
The second night, I felt the pull stronger than before.
I stood in my study, lights dim, doors locked. I unbuttoned my shirt and looked down at my chest, the faint black veins beginning to pulse just beneath the skin. The transformation always started like this—quiet, creeping, until the bones began to stretch and the beast took over.
I had control. Usually.
But she made it harder.
I could feel her lying awake. Her heart beat faster after midnight. I didn’t need to be near her to sense it. It was like her body was calling something out of me I’d buried a long time ago.
The curse is always stronger with new blood.
I closed my eyes and breathed.
No shifting tonight.
Not near her.
Not unless I wanted to lose everything I’d built.
The third morning, Madra brought word to me.
“She asked about the east wing again,” she said.
I sighed. “She’s not going to stop.”
“She needs boundaries,” Madra said, folding her arms. “Real ones. She thinks this place is still playing by human rules.”
“She’s not ready for the truth.”
Madra looked at me sharply. “Then you’d better hope she doesn’t find it.”
She left, slamming the door behind her.
I sat in silence for a long time.
I had a choice to make.
Keep her in the dark, let her stumble her way into danger, or...
Show her a piece of the truth.
The part that wouldn’t destroy her.
Not yet.
That evening, I waited for her at the library.
It was the one room she hadn’t dared enter yet. Maybe she thought it was mine. It was.
Books were the only thing that calmed the monster.
She arrived, hesitant. Her arms were folded, eyes wary.
“Why am I here?” she asked.
I didn’t answer immediately. I just handed her a leather-bound journal.
She looked at it.
“The previous one who lived here,” I said. “She wrote that.”
“Previous what?” she asked. “Wife?”
“No.”
“Servant?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
I caught her eyes. “Debt.”
Her fingers tightened on the book.
“She came here for three months,” I said. Her family owed me a life. She traded hers instead.”
“What happened to her?”
“She left.”
I didn’t say how.
Her face was pale. “So I’m just here to… what? Exist? Wait until time’s up?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“You go home.”
“If I still have one,” she whispered.
Her voice was so small, I almost missed it.
But I heard it.
And something in my chest pulled tight.
I watched her leave with the journal.
She didn’t look back.
Good.
I needed her to understand the rules. To stay within the lines.
I needed her alive.
Because if she died here…
So would I.
Later that night, I patrolled the forest.
The others were close, running under the moonlight. I stood back, in the trees, human. Barefoot. Shirtless. The cold didn’t touch me anymore.
I heard a howl from the west.
A challenge.
One of the newer ones.
Young. Reckless.
I shifted in seconds.
The bones cracked. Skin split. Fur surged over my shoulders. My eyes went gold.
The Alpha took over.
The fight was short.
I tore his shoulder open and pinned him to the ground with a snarl that shook the leaves from the trees.
“She is not prey,” I growled. “She is mine.”
He whimpered.
The pack watched in silence.
Respect. Fear.
Both were necessary.
I let him go.
He limped back into the woods.
I shifted back slowly, blood still steaming on my arms.
I stood alone in the clearing, breathing hard.
Somewhere beyond the trees, I felt her stirring again.
Still awake.
Still wondering.
When I returned to the mansion, I passed her door.
I didn’t mean to stop.
But I did.
I heard her crying.
Soft. Quiet. But real.
I pressed my hand to the door.
I could tear it off its hinges in one move. Go to her. Comfort her.
But if I did...
The monster would get too close.
I lowered my hand.
Walked away.
This was just the beginning.
And already, I was losing control.
- Writer
