Into the Alpha’s Keep Chapter 55: 54

I wasn’t the type, yet I had seen him feel when I confessed I knew about him and Marilyn.

"If he gave you a gift, it’s because he truly wants to please you, not because he needs to apologize in any way," Andrei said.

I grabbed the stack of books and shot a sideways glance at them.

"You both look like two old gossiping women, making assumptions and creating theories where there aren’t any," I remarked.

My chest relaxed. I turned in a dizzying motion toward the door, my heart racing. Fenrir's insipid laugh echoed.

"Anton and Andrei being compared to two old gossiping women," he mocked, stepping into my line of sight.

I felt like I might faint at any moment, right in the middle of the dining room, with the sight before me. His hair was shining, wet. He wore a white linen T-shirt, rolled up at the elbows, jeans, and boots.

Staring at him, a whirlwind of sensations rushed through my chest—sensations I struggled to name.

He fixed his eyes on me, and for some reason, I couldn’t look away.

It was the first time we had seen each other since we sealed the deal with that kiss. I felt strange, as if I were on the edge of a cliff, about to fall.

"You must be having a lot of fun with your mate, offending us," Andrei hissed, but the amusement around his eyes gave him away.

"I can only say I’ll never look at you the same way again," he sneered.

"Extraordinary," Anton replied.

"So, what were the old gossiping women talking about?" he asked.

Anton, Andrei, and I exchanged glances. I focused on my books, pretending to be distracted by the titles, while Andrei shoved several pieces of cheese into his mouth and Anton gulped down more coffee. No one wanted to get into the details of the conversation—not with Fenrir. If he knew we were talking about Catalina, comparing his relationship with her to the one he supposedly had with me, things would get ugly for us.

"What the hell were you talking about?" he insisted, stepping toward us.

I stood up abruptly.

"Did you manage to find Hunter's males?" I asked, changing the subject.

For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t fall for my tactic, but all the amusement drained from his face, turning his features into a hard expression.

"They managed to escape. They're more familiar with the territory than I thought."

I widened my eyes.

"How is that possible?" I hugged the books tightly to my chest, as if they were a shield.

"Some traitor, or they’re studying all the possibilities to advance on us and finally get what they’ve been after," Anton said.

I turned my eyes to him.

"A traitor?" I asked. "But... I thought you had no contact with the packs from the East."

"And we don’t," Andrei agreed. "But that doesn’t mean they don’t have contact with someone from inside the pack."

"How?"

"We’re not allowed to go to the other territories, but the city is considered a soft zone. We can go there to have fun, as long as we don’t cause any mess or trouble. Any wolf who goes into the city may have made contact with them," Andrei shot back.

I opened and closed my mouth, unsure of what to say.

Anton turned to Fenrir.

"You know we’ll have a big problem if there really is a traitor among us, right?"

"Yes, I know."

Our gazes locked, and an inexplicable warmth grew inside me. I cleared my throat, ignoring him.

"I’m... going to the lake," I announced, but hesitated. "Do you think they can get there? That they can come that close?"

If there really was a traitor in the pack, I didn’t want to take any chances and get caught.

"They won’t go that far, at least, not yet," he affirmed.

I bit my cheeks.

"Not yet?" I gasped.

He nodded.

“Having a traitor implies a lot of things,” Fenrir said, his voice low and measured, each word carrying the weight of a warning. “Especially our safety. They could get any information—pack movements, weaknesses, plans. If it’s true there’s a traitor among us, you won’t be safe even here, within these walls. But… it takes time. Even with inside knowledge, infiltrating the pack would be a risk, a gamble not many would dare to take.”

His tone was steady, but I caught the undercurrent of tension, the flicker of doubt that lingered beneath his confidence.

I sincerely hoped it wasn’t true. The very idea of betrayal gnawed at me, a cold knot tightening in my chest. Fenrir was an incredible alpha—fierce yet fair, a leader who commanded respect and admiration from his wolves in a way I’d never seen before.

They looked at him with loyalty bordering on reverence, their trust in him as solid as the stone walls of this castle. I couldn’t fathom what could drive one of them to turn against him.

If he’d been like Caspian—cruel and calculating—or my father, with his iron fist and cold heart, I could understand it, could trace the roots of dissent.

But Fenrir?

He was different, and the thought of treachery in his pack felt like a crack in something I’d believed unbreakable.

I shifted toward the front door, my steps deliberate but heavy, the weight of the conversation pressing down on me.

As I brushed past him, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my arm with a grip that was firm yet careful, pulling me back to face him. My breath hitched as I turned, caught off guard by the sudden closeness.

“Did you like the books?” he whispered, his voice dropping to a husky murmur that sent a shiver racing down my spine. His breath brushed against my skin, warm and tinged with the faintest hint of pine.

My heart skipped, then thudded hard against my ribs, a wild rhythm I couldn’t tame.

Heat flooded my body, pooling low in my belly and—God help me—wetting my panties in a rush of primal response.

His scent enveloped me, fresh and earthy, like a forest after rain, intoxicating in a way that made my head swim. I must be losing my mind.

This wasn’t possible, wasn’t rational—not after everything I’d been through, not with him.

“I loved them,” I managed, my voice squeaking out high and unsteady, betraying the chaos inside me. “Thank you so much.”

His lips quirked, a faint promise in the curve. “I’ll bring more, as soon as possible.”

His tone was soft but deliberate, and I clung to the lifeline of that casual offer, trying with every ounce of strength to convince myself it meant nothing—just a kindness, not a tether pulling me closer to him.

But my wolf had other ideas. She purred deep within me, a low, contented rumble that vibrated through my core, all smug satisfaction and shameless want.

She’d been like this—insufferably pleased—ever since he’d ripped Bogdan’s heart from his chest in front of the entire pack, blood dripping from his claws as he’d stood over the body, a brutal declaration of protection meant for me.

For us.

That moment had shifted something in her, awakened a loyalty I couldn’t fully grasp, and now she basked in his presence like a bitch in heat, utterly at ease while I wrestled with the mess of my human restraint.

“Thank you,” I gasped, the word escaping in a rush as I fought to keep my composure. He inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring as he drew in my scent, and I saw the shift in his eyes—his pupils dilating, swallowing the silver rims until only a thin halo remained.

An archaic smile spread across his lips, slow and knowing, as he caught the pungent tang of my arousal hanging in the air between us.

His expression was primal, a hunter savoring the chase, and it sent a fresh wave of heat crashing through me—this time, pure, mortifying embarrassment.

I yanked my arm free, the motion jerky and desperate, breaking the electric connection of his touch.

My face burned, humiliation searing my cheeks as I turned and bolted out of the house, my steps quick and determined, pounding against the stone floor and then the earth beyond.

The cool night air hit me like a slap, but it did little to quench the fire racing under my skin.

Oh God, if my animal side didn’t get a grip—if she didn’t stop reveling in him like this—I’d lose my mind entirely, spiraling into a chaos I wasn’t ready to face.

A cold shower.

That’s what I needed—icy water to shock my system, to drown the heat and the want and the shame, to wash away the scent of him that still clung to me like a second skin.

I clung to that thought as I fled, praying it would be enough to pull me back from the edge.