Chapter 37 More from Him
Dahlia’s POV
His eyes grazed my body slowly, deliberately, as though I were a piece of art hung in a gallery meant only for him. Not crude. Not rushed. Just… intense. The kind of look that made you suddenly aware of your breathing, your skin, the space you occupied.
“Are you listening to me,” I asked, folding my arms, “or is something else taking your attention?”
The words left my mouth sharper than I intended. Immediately, I noticed he hadn’t heard half of what I’d been saying.
He blinked, then cleared his throat, straightening as if he’d been caught doing something wrong. “How do you expect me to,” he said slowly, “when you look like it’s seven years ago?”
The statement landed softly, but it echoed loudly in my head.
Seven years ago.
My chest tightened before I could stop it. Seven years ago was the night everything changed. The night we crossed a line neither of us had been brave enough to acknowledge before—or strong enough to forget after. Or maybe he hadn’t meant it that way at all. Maybe it was a random comment, harmless, and I was the one digging up ghosts that should have stayed buried.
I opened my mouth to respond, but he cleared his throat again, his gaze sharpening. “It seems like you’re the one getting carried away.”
I exhaled and looked away, annoyed at myself. “Sorry,” I muttered. “I was just… lost in my thoughts.”
A sly smile tugged at his lips, the kind that always made my guard rise. “Are you sure it was your thoughts,” he asked, “or were you distracted by my biceps?”
He flexed his arm deliberately, the muscles shifting beneath his sleeve as if he knew exactly what he was doing.
I hated that it worked.
To be honest, they did look good—too good. For a split second, my mind betrayed me, dragging me backward in time. I almost envisioned myself being wrapped in those strong arms again, the memory so vivid it made my stomach flip.
I shook my head, forcing myself back to the present. “Lily had a dream,” I said quickly. “A nightmare.”
That got his attention.
His smile faded, replaced by focus as he straightened. “What kind of nightmare?”
I turned away from him, suddenly unsure how to explain it out loud. “She said a man was chasing her,” I continued, my voice lower now. “And her brothers. They were running. Then another man appeared—one who caught her.”
Silence followed.
When I glanced back at him, he looked confused, his brows drawn together as if he were trying to pull meaning from the fragments I’d given him. His eyes searched my face, not unkindly, but with an intensity that made me feel exposed.
“Maybe we should call the seer,” he said slowly. “Let her interpret it. Dreams like that rarely mean nothing.”
I let out a long sigh and met his gaze fully. Something about looking into his eyes still did things to me—things I pretended not to notice, things I refused to acknowledge. I pushed the feeling down.
“I don’t need a seer, Dagnoth.”
His jaw tightened. “Alpha,” he corrected.
“I’m sorry,” I said flatly. “Alpha.”
The word tasted strange in my mouth.
“It’s obvious Kael is planning something against me,” I went on, the unease I’d been carrying finally breaking free. “I can feel it in my bones. I know Kael. He’s relentless. He won’t stop until he gets what he wants.”
“And what exactly does he want?” he asked quietly.
I hesitated. ‘I really don't know.”
“That’s why I need to know,” he said, eyes not leaving mine. “I need to know if they are his.”
The air between us shifted.
His expression darkened, something unreadable passing through his eyes. “Is it mandatory,” I asked, “that you know they are his before you protect them?”
The question struck deeper than I expected.
“Is it?” I challenged.
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he stepped closer.
Too close.
The space between us shrank until I could feel his warmth, his presence pressing in on me. My pulse spiked, memories crashing into me without warning—memories I had locked away for seven years, memories of stolen moments and promises that had never been spoken aloud.
“It would just make me trust you more,” I whispered, my voice betraying me.
He moved even closer, until there was barely any space left between us. I could feel his breath, steady and controlled, though his eyes told a different story. The tension wrapped around us like a taut string, one wrong move away from snapping.
“Dahlia—” he started.
The door burst open.
Simone Interupted urgency in his tone, breaking the moment like shattered glass. “Your presence is needed, Alpha.”
He froze, then stepped back slowly, the wall slamming back into place between us. His jaw clenched as he turned toward the door, authority settling over him like armor.
“I’ll be there,” he said.
As he walked away, I stood rooted to the spot, my heart pounding, my thoughts in chaos.
Because the dream, the tension, Kael’s shadow looming over us—it all felt like a warning.
And I feared the worst was already in motion.