The Silent Warning

The Silent Warning
Chapter 23

The Silent Warning

The night was heavy, lying over the manor like a secret waiting to be revealed. The house had finally grown quiet after the preparations of hours, but I could not sleep. Every flicker of candle fire seemed to tease me, every sound outside the walls to whisper that I was watched.

And I was.

Throughout the evening, I'd sensed the gaze of the new Alpha upon me. He'd said nothing since his arrival, but the presence of his eyes was like invisible shackles. I'd attempted to distract myself by polishing silver, ensuring the arrangements were okay, and acting as if I hadn't seen him. But I had. Each and every time.

When I finally did get to bed, quietness did not comfort me—it suffocated me. I was midway through folding my apron when the door creaked open.

Ronan stood waiting.

His arrival came before his words. His shoulders were slanting hard, jaw clamped hard, and eyes burning with an anger that was so sharp for jealousy. I was immobile, my heart slamming into my chest, as his eyes pinned me to the floor.

"What were you doing with him?" His tone was low, but each word had a spasm of pent fury.

Yes, with whom? I said, though I already had.

"The new Alpha." He took a step forward. "Don't be stupid with me, Lyra."

"I'm not being stupid," I snapped. "He spoke to me once. That was all."

Ronan's eyes slit, his breathing rough. "Do you have any idea who he is? What he can do?

I swallowed hard, but I would not back down. "Do you think I don't know when to spot danger? I've had it growing up. I don't need you reminding me."

"That's not what I mean!" His voice increased, ringing off the stone walls. "You don't understand what it does to someone like him to show interest in someone like you. It puts a target on your back."

And whose fault is that?" I breathed.

His gaze flashed — for a moment, the Alpha disappeared, and the man I once caught a glimpse of beneath the suit stood there in place of him, still and unsure. Then the mask snapped back on.

"Keep away from him," he growled. "Whatever he tells you. Whatever he offers.

Why do you matter?" I asked, my voice trembling despite the attempt at sounding tough. "Because all of a sudden you're worthy of being guarded? Or because someone noticed me?"

His silence was more deafening than a confession.

I stepped out, anger churning in waves I couldn't suppress from rising. "You can't have it both ways, Ronan. You can't hide me away like a secret and then bristle when some other individual looks in my direction. You don't get to decide for me because you're afraid."

"I'm not afraid," he growled, though the falsehood trembled in his throat. "I'm trying to keep you alive."

"Alive?" I mocked. "You mean hidden. Like a plague that refuses to leave you in peace."

Ronan's gaze seethed, agony dancing behind the storm. "You have no idea what's at stake here, Lyra."

"Then explain," I spat. "Explain why they all treat me like poison. Explain what they're hiding from me."

He said nothing. He couldn't.

His silence broke something inside of me. I whirled, head shaking and tears clogging at the corners of my eyes. "You see? You only care when it's about you. When other people glance my way, when other people speak to me. You don't protect me—you protect yourself."

Ronan's voice dropped to a threatening whisper. "You have no idea how wrong you are."

He took a step closer, his hand extending nearly to me—but he hesitated. His chest rose and fell raggedly, his breathing shallow with rage barely contained.

"No one will ever hurt you," he snarled finally, his voice rough and harsh enough to cut. "Not him. Not anyone."

"Why?" I whispered. "Because you decree it?"

He said nothing. He merely turned away from the door, his knuckles white against the handle.

For a long moment, he stood there, his back to me, the air thick with everything neither of us could say. Then, in a voice that sounded more like a vow than a warning, he murmured, “I’ll make sure of it.”

The door shut behind him, and the echo felt like the closing of a cage.

I stood there in the silence, trembling, looking at the door behind him. My heart was still racing, my mind whirling between confusion and anger. His words kept resonating inside my head—No one will touch you. It was meant to sound like safety, but all I got was fear.

And for the very first time, I wasn't sure whose it was—his or mine.

I fell onto the bed's edge, trying to slow my breathing. The night outside was still, but in my mind it was not. Every shade appeared to have shifted, every creak down the hall sent my heart racing.

I told myself it was my imagination—that I was tired, shaken by the battle. But then I heard it.

Something dropped under the door.