Chapter 45 TOO LATE LATER

Chapter 45 TOO LATE LATER
CHAPTER 45. TOO LATE LATER

IRIS'S POV

I faltered for a minute, my pulse jumping into a frantic, uneven rhythm beneath my skin. I stare up at Kaelen, desperately trying to construct a mask of normalcy out of the raw panic vibrating in my chest. The last thing I want is to become the spark that ignites a blood feud within his pack, or to stand as the reason for whatever internal warfare Davina was threatening. I wave my hands hurriedly in front of me, a weak, dismissive gesture to sweep the tension under the rug.

"Don't worry about it, Kaelen. Honestly, she didn't do anything," I say, the lie tasting thin and dry on my tongue. "It’s completely fine. We were just... talking."

Kaelen’s heavy eyebrows knit together into a sharp, tensed scowl. I can tell by the sudden hardness in his jawline that he doesn't believe a single syllable leaving my lips. The wolf in him is entirely too perceptive, tracking the residual scent of Davina's aggression lingering in the air. Desperate to break his focus, I force my tensed muscles to relax and offer him a fragile, reassuring smile.

"It’s fine, okay? I promise," I tell him, trying to anchor my voice to an absolute certainty.

For a long beat, the silence hangs heavy in the room. Kaelen blinks, a dazed, searching look overtaking his golden eyes, as though he is trying to decipher a hidden script mapped across my micro-expressions. I frown slightly, the weight of his unyielding stare making my skin prickle with an intense, suffocating heat. But then, just as quickly as the dominance rose, it recedes. His features soften, and a slow, breathtaking smile breaks across his face.

"I love the color of your hair," he says entirely out of the blue, his velvety baritone dropping to a low, intimate register.

The compliment hits me like a physical wave. I freeze, staring at him in a total daze as a white-hot blush instantly crawls up my neck and floods my cheeks. My brain short-circuits; I completely did not expect a declaration like that while we were navigating a pack crisis. A nervous, breathless chuckle escapes my throat, and I quickly drop my gaze down to the mattress, suddenly feeling incredibly shy as I begin furiously fiddling with my fingers against the sheets.

"Thanks," I reply softly, my voice barely a whisper.

I don't even understand why my lips are curling into such a wide, helpless smile right now. God, my cheeks actually hurt from the sheer force of the blush. Desperate for a distraction to ground my spiraling thoughts, I blink rapidly and break eye contact, letting my gaze roam across the expanse of the bedroom.

"Your room is... it's really nice," I stammer, my hands gesturing vaguely toward the heavy drapes and dark wood. "It looks..." I pause for a while, my vocabulary failing me entirely. I don't know how to describe the archaic, regal aesthetics of a werewolf’s sanctuary without sounding like an idiot.

Kaelen lets out a low, amused chuckle, the rich sound vibrating through the mattress beneath my knees.

"You don't have to force yourself to say anything if you don't fully understand the architecture, Iris," he says softly, his golden eyes locked onto my profile. "I am quite aware that the way we structure our sanctuaries is vastly different from the way you humans do yours. Not that you are an ordinary human anyway, but I understand that everything in this realm must feel incredibly alien to your senses."

I let out another soft laugh, nodding my head slowly as I digest his words. "Yeah... yeah, you're definitely right about that."

But good Lord, I am doing everything within my power just to avoid his gaze. Those sharp, molten golden eyes are absolutely killing me—the exact same mystical orbs that have haunted my subconscious and plagued my drawings for months. I grind my teeth together, a sudden wave of humidity washing over my skin. I don't understand why this room is suddenly feeling so incredibly hot right now.

An invisible, magnetic force pulls at my chin, compelling me to turn my head back toward him. But the second my eyes snap back to his position, a sharp gasp of shock hitches in my throat. He is close. No—not just close. He is too close. Really, too bloody close.

The raw, radiating heat of his biology bleeds straight through my clothes. By the time my head fully turns, his face is positioned only a few inches away from mine. My breath hitches, my pupils dilating as I realize the bridge of our noses are almost touching. He doesn't pull back. Instead, a lazy, predatory smile plays on his full lips.

"Did I take you by surprise, baby girl?" he asks.

His deep, brooding voice vibrates directly against my nervous system, sending a powerful shiver racing straight down my spine. Now that he is hovering in my personal space, the sheer, imposing scale of his body completely overwhelms me. He is massive—a wall of solid muscle. The heavy definition of his chest and broad shoulders protrudes aggressively through the fabric of his shirt. My gaze accidentally trails down his exposed arm, tracking the dark, intricate sleeve of tattoos that maps across his skin like armor. The markings give him a raw, animalistic intensity that makes him look—oh God, so delicious.

A quiet, insidious whisper echoes in the back of my mind, a sudden hunger that scares me. I frown slightly, trying to scramble for my sanity, unable to comprehend the primal urges taking possession of my soul.

Kaelen chuckles, his eyelids dropping to half-mast as he tilts his head, closing the remaining fraction of distance between our lips. My heart hammers against my ribs like a war drum. Oh my God, is he... is he actually going to kiss me? The thought is a frantic scream in my head.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

The sharp, aggressive sound of knuckles against the heavy oak door instantly shatters the spell, jolting the both of us apart. Kaelen pulls back with a sudden, tensed snap, and a silent, furious fuck echoes in my own mind.

I press my back against the headboard, my breathing ragged as I try to process my own disappointment. Why the hell does there have to be a sudden interruption every single time? A wave of intense embarrassment washes over me. Am I losing my mind? Do I actually want a literal werewolf to press his lips against mine?

Kaelen looks openly irritated, a dangerous scowl darkening his features as his golden eyes glare down at the floorboards for a brief second. But then, he catches himself. He lets out a dry, forced chuckle and looks back up at me, his expression softening into a quick, reassuring smile. He shoves himself off the mattress, his massive frame rising with an ominous grace as he marches across the room to throw the door open.

Ciara steps into the private quarters, but her presence doesn't bring any semblance of relief. She looks completely displeased, her features set into a cold, stony expression. In her hands, she is carrying a heavy clay bowl, thick plumes of pale steam coiling lazily over the rim and filling the air with the sharp, bitter scent of crushed herbs.

She marches into the center of the room, her movements fluid and silent. Her face is a blank canvas—nonchalant, void, and entirely devoid of any human warmth. She lets out a long, slow exhale, her dark robes rustling against the wood. Kaelen stands by the doorframe, his arms folding tightly over his chest as he observes her entrance with a tensed, heavy frown. We are both completely confused by her sudden, silent intrusion.

"Your attention is required at the caravan immediately," Ciara says, her voice smooth and razor-sharp as she breaks the silence. "They are assembling outside the campus gate, right at the center of the ritual garden."

I watch the exact millisecond Kaelen’s expression changes. The irritation vanishes, replaced by a cold, protective fury.

"Why?" he barks, his baritone voice echoing off the rafters. "It’s not yet time for the diagnostic. She just woke up, she needs enough rest to stabilize her mind."

"The ritual has to go on now," Ciara interrupts him ruthlessly, her violet eyes never once shifting to meet his gaze.

The entire frequency of her demeanor has changed. It isn't the same detached, protective aura she exhibited when she threw Davina across the room moments ago. Her tone is sharp, dripping with a cold irritation that is directed entirely toward Kaelen’s authority.

"The Elders are rapidly losing their patience," the witch continues, her voice dropping to a commanding register. "They want the circle activated now. They need to figure out exactly what kind of anomaly is residing inside her soul, and they are not waiting for dawn."

Kaelen’s jaw sets in a hard line, his fists clenching at his sides. "But I am the future Alpha. I wasn't informed about a change in the schedule."

Ciara finally turns her head to look at him, her piercing violet eyes narrowing into dangerous, angry slits. "Then I suggest you go and figure it out yourself, wolf," she spits out, the blatant disrespect rolling off her tongue.

Kaelen glares at her for a long, agonizing beat, his tensed muscles coiled as if he is weighing the consequences of an attack. But then, his gaze flickers back to me, filled with a deep, silent worry. Making a tactical decision, he lets out a sharp exhale and turns on his heel. He marches out of the room, his heavy boots pounding against the stone corridor as he leaves the private lodge, pulling the heavy door shut behind him.

The latch clicks into place, leaving the two of us alone in the suffocating quiet.

I watch the witch with wide, guarded eyes. The exact millisecond Kaelen’s scent fades from the hallway, her casual, nonchalant mask slips away. She moves with an eerie, supernatural speed, gliding across the floor to ensure the door is firmly locked. Then, she spins around to face the bed, her violet eyes locking onto mine.

The expression on her face makes me flinch, a cold dread pooling in my stomach. It is a calculating, intense look—like she is preparing to execute something incredibly devious.

I clutch the heavy blankets tightly against my chest, my tensed muscles locking as I begin to slowly crawl backward across the mattress, pressing my spine against the wooden headboard, preparing my body for the next attack.

Ciara stops at the edge of the rug, observing my panic. She closes her eyes for a brief second and lets out a long, exhausted exhale that sounds surprisingly human.

"I don't really know why everyone in this pathetic kingdom keeps looking at me like I’m the villain," she murmurs, her voice thin.

When she opens her eyes, the violet behind her pupils is glowing with an unnatural, vibrant luminescence, burning brighter than I’ve ever seen it before. She steps closer to the edge of the mattress, her long fingers reaching up to grip the edges of her dark hood. With a swift, fluid motion, she pulls the heavy fabric away from her head, letting it drop to her shoulders, exposing her sharp features and a shock of dark hair.

She leans in, her violet stare locking onto mine with an intensity that leaves no room for escape.

"There is something you desperately need to know, Iris," she whispers, her voice dropping to a razor-sharp rasp that makes my blood run cold. "And I am only going to use this opportunity to tell you once. Listen to me carefully, because if you don't understand
what you are and what is about to happen, it is going to be too late later in the future."