Chapter 12: The Alphas Gaze

Chapter 12

The Alphas Gaze

The bar smelled of smoke and spilled beer, the kind of establishment where darkness hugged every corner and music thumped low through the walls. I was not here where I was meant to be. I was not where I was meant to be feeling this restlessness, this wildness. But as soon as I entered, I felt as though the noise could stop the turmoil inside me.

I sat alone at the bar, tracing the rim of my glass with my finger, mind reeling like vultures. Kael's voice, Mira's laughter, my father's dying breath—all pounded too clearly in my head. Even Ronan's face intruded, his silver eyes serene and soft, calling to mind oaths I wasn't sure I deserved to swear.

I longed for quiet. I longed for numbness. I longed to forget.

He found me there.

The woods' Alpha.

He moved onto the stool beside me as if he were entitled to be there, his presence oppressive, commanding. He didn't speak at all, but just looked at me with that uncanny, unreadable gaze that sent shivers down my spine. He finally nudged a drink towards me, his voice silky and low.

"You look like you could use this."

I should have said no. I should have walked away. But I picked up the glass and drank. The burn of liquor shot down my throat, harsh and unforgiving, but I welcomed it. At least it was something I could control.

The first glass turned into two. And three.

The edges of the world softened. My brain hazed, my defenses lowering with every sip. He didn't pressure me, didn't loom over me—simply lingered near, silent and attentive, refilling my glass whenever it was low.

I laughed at some point. I couldn't even remember why. My voice sounded strange to my own ears, cracking and insane. He tilted his head, regarding me like I was a puzzle he didn't particularly want to figure out.

"Why are you really here?" he asked.

I shook my head, dizzy. "Because… if I stay in my head another minute, I'll drown.".

His jaws clenched, but he didn't speak. Instead, when I tried to stand up and nearly toppled, he grabbed my elbow. His grip was solid, brawny, and for a moment I seethed at how safe I felt.

"Come on, let's get you out of there," he said.

The hotel was close, too close. I could barely remember the walk, only the sting of cold night air on my warm skin, the spin of lights as the city spun. The next thing I knew, the door slammed home behind us, and the quiet of the room engulfed me.

I fell onto the bed edge, palms in face. His silhouette by the window, tense, compact. He didn't approach at first, as if he held himself back for me to say something, to do something.

But my brain deceived me. My heart deceived me.

"Kael…" I breathed.

The name slipped out before I could stop it.

His head snapped toward me, his eyes hardening. "Who is Kael?"

I didn't answer. Couldn't. My chest seethed, a storm of sorrow and anger battering at me until I was past and present and nothing at all.

I stood up, staggering, and grabbed him. My palms spread wide against his chest, pressing into the solid weight beneath his sweater. He didn't pull away. He didn't release me.

My hand slid over muscle, to his shoulders, hurting for something—anything—that would burn the emptiness from me.

"Kael…" I whispered again, though I knew he wasn't Kael. Maybe that was why it stung so badly.

He held my wrists, keeping me in place. His eyes probed mine, hard and intent. For an instant, I thought he would push me away. For an instant, I wished he would.

But then his grip eased, and his fingers slid down, grazing my cheek. His touch was restraint and flame, something I desired and feared.

"You don't know what you're asking for," he said quietly.

"Then don't make me ask," I whispered back to him.

Space between us melted. His lips were on mine, warm and rough, and the world vanished. The alcohol slicked over all of it—the pain, the anger, the hurt—and left only this, only this burning. My fingers were tangled in his hair, my chest pressed against his, needing him like air, like a wound needs a knife to stay open.

Clothes slid off. Walls collapsed. And in the blackness of that hotel room, I drowned willingly, needfully, in the storm of him.

I didn't question. I didn't hesitate. I just let it happen.

But when it was over—when silence returned once again to the air—I felt the weight of what I'd done. My chest ached, my heart still racing Kael's name even though it wasn't him who'd kissed me.

I rolled over onto my back, staring up at the ceiling, the shadows pressing down on me like judgment.

By my side, the Alpha lay still, his breathing slow but strained, as if even he could not fully believe what had occurred.

The darkness stretched out between us like a sword held ready to strike.

And I knew. this was only the beginning of something I was not ready for.