Chapter 17 Late Night Confessions
Amanda stared at the empty space where he had stood. Her chest felt tight. Her thoughts were tangled. Something had changed today. She could feel it in the way Derek had looked at her. In the way the pack had bowed their heads.
She wasn't invisible anymore.
The clock struck two.
Derek sat in his office. The dim light from the hearth flickered across his desk. Papers lay untouched before him. He'd tried to read them. Reports from patrol. Updates from the neighboring packs. But his mind refused to focus. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Amanda kneeling in the courtyard. Her hands glowing with that golden light. The way her voice had steadied when she said, “Let me try.”
He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. Sleep wasn't coming tonight.
After a moment, he stood. He grabbed the teapot that had gone cold beside him and left his office. His footsteps echoed faintly down the corridor. He told himself he was just checking on things. That it wasn't about her. But his feet carried him where his mind hadn't dared to admit. Toward the library.
Amanda was there, just as he somehow knew she would be.
The fire in the hearth burned low. It painted her in soft amber light. She sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by open books. Ancient records. Healing texts. Half-burned pages filled with symbols he didn't recognize. Her hair was loose, tumbling down her shoulders. She looked softer like this. Human.
Derek hesitated at the doorway. "You never sleep, do you?"
Amanda jumped slightly, then turned. When she saw him, her surprise melted into something gentler. "I could ask you the same."
He stepped inside, holding up the tray in his hands. "I brought tea."
Her brows lifted. "You? Brought tea?"
He gave a small shrug. "Don't look so shocked. I do know how to pour water into a cup."
A faint laugh escaped her. "That's impressive for an Alpha heir."
He smiled despite himself and set the tray down on the table beside her. "Silverleaf brew. It's supposed to help with sleep."
Amanda reached for one cup. Their fingers brushed briefly. Neither spoke about it, but the air between them tightened.
"Thank you," she said softly.
He took the other cup and sat across from her. The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was tentative. Almost peaceful.
She glanced at the pile of books around her. "I was trying to find out what happened earlier. The light. The energy. None of these texts mention anything like it."
"You saved a man's life," Derek said quietly. "Maybe stop questioning it for one night."
"I can't." She shook her head. "What if it happens again and I can't control it? What if it hurts someone next time?"
He studied her face. The worry there was real. "You didn't hurt anyone, Amanda."
"Not yet." Her voice broke slightly. "I don't even know what I am anymore."
Derek leaned back. His gaze was thoughtful. "Maybe you're exactly who you're meant to be."
Her eyes flicked to him. Surprised. "You actually believe that?"
"I've seen a lot in my life. Curses. Blood magic. Betrayal." His tone softened. "But I've never seen someone heal silver poisoning. Not even my mother could."
Amanda looked down into her tea. Her reflection rippled in the surface. "Before today, I didn't believe I could do much of anything."
He frowned. "Why?"
A bitter smile curved her lips. "Because I was always compared to Lena. She was the beautiful one. The charming one. People saw her before they even realized I existed." She paused. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I got used to being invisible."
Derek didn't speak for a moment. Then, quietly, "You're nothing like her."
Amanda blinked. Unsure she'd heard right.
He set his cup down. "Lena's all surface. Everything about her shines on the outside. But you..." His eyes lifted to hers. "You're deeper. Stronger. The kind of strength that doesn't need to be loud."
Heat crept up her neck. "That's the first nice thing you've ever said to me."
"Don't get used to it," he muttered, but there was a ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
They both laughed. Softly. Unexpectedly. It felt strange, hearing the sound of it between them.
The laughter faded, but neither looked away. The fire crackled. Shadows danced along the walls.
Amanda's breath caught as Derek's gaze dipped briefly to her lips, then back to her eyes. Time seemed to slow. The warmth that had filled her hands earlier now pooled somewhere deeper. Heavier.
He leaned forward slightly. Then stopped.
A muscle in his jaw flexed. He stood abruptly. The chair scraped against the floor. "It's late," he said. His voice was rough. "You should rest."
Amanda blinked. The moment shattered like glass. "Derek..."
But he was already turning toward the door. "Good night, Amanda."
And then he was gone.
He didn't stop walking until he reached his room. The corridor was empty, but his heart was anything but calm. He pressed his palms against the edge of his desk and stared at the dark window.
What the hell was that?
He'd been close to her before. Too close. But tonight felt different. When she'd looked at him, it wasn't pity or obligation. It was something raw. Something real.
He didn't want to feel it. Not for her. Not for the woman who was supposed to be his assigned match.
And yet, when she smiled at him, something inside him stirred. Something he thought had died with his wolf.
Derek closed his eyes. His jaw was tight. "This can't happen," he muttered to the empty room. But even as he said it, he knew it already had.
Amanda stayed in the library long after he left. The air still carried the faint scent of tea and cedar. Like his presence lingered in the room.
She touched her lips without thinking, then shook her head. “Don't be stupid,” she told herself. Derek Livingston didn't see her that way. Not really. Whatever had happened tonight was a moment. Nothing more.
Still, her heart refused to believe it.
She gathered her books. She blew out the lamp before heading toward her room. The hallways were dim. Lit only by the soft silver of moonlight streaming through tall windows. Everything was still. Too still.
When she reached her door, a chill ran down her spine.
The scent hit her first. Iron and decay.
She frowned and pushed the door open slowly. The room looked the same as she'd left it. The bed was neatly made. The curtains were drawn back. But then her gaze fell on the pillow.
A small, lifeless bird lay there. Its wings were spread. Its feathers were dark and stiff. Blood stained the white pillowcase beneath it.
Amanda's breath caught. Her hand flew to her mouth.
There was something else. A folded piece of paper pinned beneath the bird's claws. Her hands trembled as she reached for it.
The message was short. Written in rough, uneven strokes.
Stop digging or you'll end up the same.
The paper slipped from her fingers.
For a long moment, she couldn't move. The only sound was the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. The faint whisper of wind came through the window.
Then her shock turned to fear.