Into the Alpha’s Keep Chapter 13: 12

Almost all of the clothes Nicoleta had brought fit me perfectly, a small miracle after months of scavenging ill-fitting garments snatched from sagging clotheslines under the cover of night. The fabric of these new pieces—soft cotton shirts, a pair of jeans that hugged my hips just right, a thick sweater that smelled faintly of cedar—felt like a luxury I’d forgotten existed.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I had something to wear that was truly mine, not borrowed or stolen, and the thought sent a flicker of warmth through my chest, fleeting but real. I ran my fingers over the neatly folded stack, imagining how they’d look on me once I was free of this place.

Selena loved clothes and adored dressing well. That’s why I had already selected the ones I thought she’d like the most to take with me when I escaped. I would give all of them to my sister as a gift as soon as we were reunited.

A sudden gust of wind whipped across the garden, sharp and biting, and I instinctively pulled the bathrobe tighter around me, knotting the ties at my sides with trembling fingers. The thin fabric did little to shield me from the chill, and a shiver rippled down my spine, raising goosebumps along my feverish skin. But the cold was a welcome distraction, a jolt that cut through the haze of heat simmering in my blood—a heat I couldn’t escape, no matter how much I willed it away.

Not taking the heat-suppressant capsules had been a calculated choice, though it came at a brutal cost. My body ached with a relentless, gnawing need, every nerve alight with a primal craving that pulsed through me without mercy.

And Fenrir—damn him—haunted my thoughts like a specter, his piercing eyes and low, rumbling voice weaving into my mind no matter how fiercely I tried to banish him.

I’d avoided the capsules for a reason, though. Inside the house, the air was too still, too enclosed. If I let the suppressants lapse and my scent flared—raw and potent with the heat coursing through me—he’d know in an instant what I’d done. Or rather, what I hadn’t done.

Fenrir’s senses were too sharp, his instincts too honed, and I couldn’t risk him catching even a whiff of my vulnerability. Out here, under the vast, open sky, the wind could scatter my scent, dilute it among the rustling leaves and damp earth. It was safer this way, even if it left me trembling and exposed.

I shuffled along the stone path, my feet cocooned in fluffy slippers that muffled my steps against the uneven slabs. The moon hung high above, a brilliant orb casting its silvery glow across the sprawling gardens of Fenrir’s mansion, painting the world in shades of shadow and light.

The air smelled crisp, tinged with the faint musk of moss and the sharp bite of pine, a stark contrast to the stifling warmth I’d fled indoors. I glanced toward the fire pit, its stone ring streaked with soot and littered with the charred remnants of last night’s logs. No embers glowed now, no tendrils of heat rose to greet me—just a cold, hollow shell where flames had once danced, mirroring the emptiness I felt creeping into my resolve.

The silence was absolute, a heavy blanket draped over the night. The only sounds were the whisper of wind threading through the branches, sending a cascade of dry leaves skittering across the ground, and the soft, mournful hoot of an owl gliding overhead, its wings cutting through the stillness.

I stepped off the path, the crunch of brittle leaves beneath my slippers loud in the quiet, a small rebellion against the oppressive calm. Narrowing my eyes, I sharpened my vision, letting my wolf senses flare as I scanned the shadowed expanse stretching out before me.

The night before, I had counted one hundred and two trees on the way to Fenrir’s house. And before that, I had already walked several miles. If his pack was the nearest, I’d need to follow the same path I’d taken to get here. That way, I wouldn’t risk running into another pack and could reach the city in time to find Selena and escape far away. Far from Fenrir, Romania, and Hunter, preferably.

A fire ignited in my chest, an irritating heat expanding little by little until it turned into flames.

"Trying to figure out the best way to escape?" Fenrir’s voice came from my right.

With my heart in my throat, I spun on my heels abruptly, crashing into his solid chest. I took a step back, distancing myself.

"Damn it, how do you walk so quietly?" I snapped, pressing a hand against my heart.

He placed his hands in the front pockets of his worn jeans and shrugged.

"The older you get, the stronger your connection to your wolf becomes."

I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, and you’re really old, so you know a lot about that."

He let out a genuine laugh that made my foolish heart thud. Fenrir looked even more handsome when he was relaxed. But then he cast a glance at the forest behind me, and his smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"As I said, little wolf, I’m really old—and not stupid."

I noticed how you spent the whole day wandering around, asking questions, and roaming everywhere. I know you’re trying to find a way to escape, to get away from me." He took a step forward, and I took one back. "Or... maybe you’re here for a specific reason, perhaps to send a signal to someone, gather some information..."

I made a scoffing sound in my throat.

"Have you always been like this, or did it get worse over the years?"

"Like what?"

"Unbalanced," I spat, hugging myself tightly as I sidestepped him to head back to the house. "Think what you want, Fenrir. Your opinion is irrelevant to me. If you think I’m a traitor, a spy, or whatever else, that’s your problem."

Escape? Sure. But a traitor? Never.

I didn’t get far. Not far enough when my womb contracted, making me a little dizzy. I stopped in my tracks and curled in on myself, letting out a low groan. Drops of sweat formed on my forehead.

I blinked, and he was suddenly in front of me.

"You didn’t take the damn medicine?" he whispered, his voice hoarse, his animal side clashing with his human side.

As my mated wolf, he was supposed to satisfy me during my heat. That’s why he responded so quickly to the call of my body for him. It was our nature dominating us both.

"I did," I lied, placing my hands on my hips and breathing calmly. "But I was already in the heat cycle, and it takes time to work." Nothing I said was anywhere near the truth.

A golden light flashed in his eyes, taking over the usual blue-silver hue. He took a step closer, sniffing the air and absorbing my scent.

I extended my arm and pressed my hand against his chest, stopping him from getting any closer while I still had some control over my own actions.

"Stay far away from me, Fenrir. And I mean it."

"I can help with that," he whispered in a sweet, husky tone. "With my cock, my fingers, or my tongue—your choice..." He raised an eyebrow.

I clenched my teeth so hard the muscle in my jaw popped.

"I’d rather suffer through the fever, burn from the inside out, and die than sleep with you again," I spat, forcing the words through my teeth.

The memory of how he had treated me earlier, beside that wretched woman, wouldn’t leave my mind. I’d keep my pride intact. I wouldn’t give in to him or to what my body begged for. Not a chance.

His lips curled into a sneer, looking offended. He blinked, and his eyes returned to their usual color. He took three long steps back, putting distance between us.

"Just so you know, the feeling is mutual," he shot back, spinning on his heels and walking toward the house.

I waited a few more seconds after he disappeared from sight. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath of fresh air. But it didn’t work—the heat still burned through me.

Well, maybe a cold shower could help.

Anything but Fenrir.