Chapter 7 Seven

Chapter 7 Seven
Chapter seven

By nightfall, the mansion had gone quiet again. The others stayed away when the moon rose high; they knew better than to linger near my quarters when the wolf prowled too close to freedom.

I tried to focus on the paperwork on my desk, meaningless reports from companies I didn’t even care to run. All of it was a disguise ,  a way to pretend I was still a man with control, not a creature waiting to fall apart.

But her scent still lingered. I could track it even with my human senses.

Soft vanilla. Warm skin. Fear and hope tangled together.

It had been years since anything had reached me like that.

I stood and paced the floor, jaw tight. Every instinct told me to keep her locked away until the thirty days were over.

Let her hate me. Let her think I was cold, cruel, anything but this.

Because if she ever saw what I truly was, she’d run ,  and I wasn’t sure I’d have the strength to let her.

I could still see her eyes from earlier, shining with that stubborn kind of courage that made her both fragile and dangerous.

The wolf wanted her.

The man did too.

And that was the problem.

By midnight, I gave up pretending. I couldn’t stay still. I left the study, walking the halls like a restless shadow, my footsteps silent on the marble. The mansion held its breath, as if it knew the storm hadn’t passed, only changed shape.

When I reached her door, I stopped.

The scent hit me full force. She was awake. I could hear her heartbeat through the wood ,  slow, steady, human.

My hand hovered above the handle.

One touch, one word, and the fragile line I’d drawn between us would break completely.

I should have walked away. I didn’t.

The door opened before I could decide. She stood there, barefoot, eyes wide, like she’d known I was coming.

“Kael.”

Just my name, but it was enough to undo every wall I’d built.

I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. The air between us tightened. She didn’t back away, not even when I looked down at her the way predators do before they strike.

“You should be asleep,” I said.

“You should be honest,” she whispered.

Her words landed deep.

I reached out without thinking, brushing a strand of hair from her face. My fingers grazed her cheek, and she shivered.

I shouldn’t have touched her, but I’d stopped being able to tell the difference between wanting and needing.

“You think honesty will make you safer?” I asked quietly.

“I think lies already made me trapped,” she said.“So yes.”

Her voice didn’t tremble. It should have. I was standing too close, and she didn’t even blink.

“Then ask,” I said.“Ask what you want to know.”

“What are you?”

I laughed under my breath. Not because it was funny, but because I’d spent years avoiding that question.

“Something that shouldn’t exist anymore.”

“Try me.”

The wolf stirred beneath my skin again, responding to her defiance. My hands clenched at my sides.“If I tell you, you’ll run.”

“Then I’ll run toward you.”

That broke something inside me. The control, the restraint, the silence I’d built around my life ,  all of it splintered under that one sentence.

I caught her wrist, pulling her closer, not in anger but in disbelief.“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know what I feel.”

Her pulse raced under my fingers, quick and alive. The wolf inside me howled, recognizing that rhythm like a song it had been waiting to hear.

“I’ve killed for less,” I said.“I’ve torn through men who came near me when the moon rose. You have no idea what that means.”

“Then show me why you’re still fighting it,” she said softly.“If the monster is all you are, why haven’t you let it win?”

Her words hit me harder than claws ever could. I released her and stepped back, because if I didn’t, I’d stop pretending to be human altogether.

“I’ve tried,” I admitted.“Every time I shift, I think maybe it’s better to stop fighting. To let the curse have me. But then, ” I swallowed hard.“Then you look at me like I’m still worth saving.”

She came closer, slower this time, like approaching a wounded animal.“Maybe you are.”

“Don’t say that,” I whispered.

“Why not?”

“Because if I believe you, I won’t let you leave.”

Her eyes softened.“Maybe I don’t want to.”

That silence between us wasn’t empty; it was full of things neither of us dared to name.

I brushed my thumb across her lips, feeling her breath catch. The wolf inside me growled, not in hunger, but in warning.

The bond between us hummed ,  faint, but there.

Mates.

No. I couldn’t accept that. I wouldn’t. Fate was cruel, and I’d bled too much to trust it.

“Aria,” I said, voice rough.“If you stay, I can’t promise what I’ll be when the next full moon comes.”

“Then promise me you’ll try.”

I let out a shaky breath.“You’re asking for something I don’t know how to give.”

Her fingers brushed mine.“Then let me teach you.”

The last of my restraint cracked. I pulled her closer, just enough to feel her heartbeat against mine. I didn’t kiss her, not yet. I just held her there, letting the warmth of her skin remind me what I was trying to protect.

“You don’t understand,” I whispered.“You’re not safe with me.”

Her hands slid up to my chest, resting over the scars there.“You keep saying that. But somehow, I feel safer here than anywhere else.”

If she knew what those scars meant, she’d never say that.

The moonlight through the window caught her eyes, turning them gold for a heartbeat. My chest tightened.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” I said.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m still human.”

She smiled faintly.“Maybe that’s the only part of you the curse can’t touch.”

Something inside me gave up fighting. For one moment, I let myself breathe her in ,  the scent, the warmth, the stubborn light that hadn’t been broken by all this darkness.

Then I stepped back before I ruined it.

“Go to bed, Aria,” I said softly.“Please.”

“Kael, ”

“Don’t make me ask again.”

She hesitated, then nodded slowly. But as I turned to leave, her voice came again, quiet, trembling but sure.

“Whatever you are,” she said,“I’m not running.”

I didn’t look back, because if I did, I wouldn’t be able to leave.

When I stepped into the corridor, the wolf stirred again, restless, aching. I could almost hear it whisper through the blood and bone:

She’s ours.

And that terrified me more than the curse ever had.

Because for the first time in years, the monster inside me wanted to protect something ,  not destroy it.