Chapter 2 The Wrong Door

I opened the wrong door.

I knew it the second the handle turned.

This wasn't the storage room.

This wasn't the dressing room Sienna mentioned.

This wasn't safe.

Warm air brushed my face.

Not perfume.

Not food.

Something clean. Sharp. Masculine.

Steam drifted past me.

My fingers tightened around the fabric bag Sienna had given me.

"Change upstairs," she had said. "First door on the left."

I must have miscounted.

Stupid.

I stepped inside anyway.

Just one step.

Then I froze.

Someone was there.

He stood a few feet away.

Bare chest.

Water sliding down his skin.

Dark hair is still wet.

A towel low on his hips.

My breath stopped.

My mind went blank.

It was him.

The man from the hall.

The one who made people move without speaking.

The one who scared that drunk man with just a look.

The one who had been staring at me.

The one I couldn't stop thinking about.

Up close, he looked even bigger.

Stronger.

Scar across his shoulder.

Another near his ribs.

Old marks. Deep ones.

Not accidents.

Fights.

Real fights.

My throat went dry.

"I'm sorry," I blurted. "Wrong room."

My hand flew to the handle.

But his voice stopped me.

"Wait."

One word.

Low.

Steady.

Commanding.

My body obeyed before my brain did.

I hated that.

Silence stretched.

Too long.

Too heavy.

He didn't cover himself.

Didn't move.

Just watched me.

Like he was studying me.

Like I was a problem he couldn't solve.

I swallowed.

"You're staring," I said.

My voice sounded smaller than I wanted.

"You're shaking," he replied.

I looked down.

My hands really were trembling.

"Because you're staring."

His eyes didn't leave my face.

"I'm trying to remember you."

The words hit me strangely.

"Remember me?" I laughed nervously. "We've never met."

He didn't smile.

"That's what's bothering me."

My heart beat faster.

Why does he sound so sure?

I forced myself to breathe.

"Look, sir, I just need to change. My friend told me to use the room"

"This isn't the guest room."

"I figured."

"It's mine."

Oh.

Oh God.

This was his bedroom.

Heat rushed to my face.

"I'm so sorry. I'll leave"

"Stop apologizing."

His tone wasn't angry.

Just firm.

Like he didn't like the word sorry coming from me.

That confused me even more.

Who was this man?

And why did he talk to me like I mattered?

He stepped closer.

One step.

That was all.

But it felt like the air shrank.

Like the room wasn't big enough for both of us.

I caught his scent then.

Clean soap.

Metal.

Rain.

Something wild underneath.

My chest tightened.

My stomach flipped.

My knees felt weak.

What is wrong with me?

I barely know him.

So why does my body feel like this?

Like it recognizes him?

Like it's... safe?

No.

Not safe.

Drawn.

Pulled.

Like gravity.

"You work here?" he asked.

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Tonight only."

"Who hired you?"

"My friend."

"Name."

"Sienna Blackwood."

Something flickered in his eyes.

Shock?

No.

Something deeper.

Something like calculation.

"You're her friend?" he asked slowly.

"Yes."

He studied me again.

Longer this time.

His gaze traced my face like he was memorizing every detail.

It made my skin warm.

I hated that it didn't feel uncomfortable.

It should.

But it didn't.

It felt...

intimate.

Too intimate.

"You don't look like you belong here," he said quietly.

The words stung.

"I know."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"It's fine. I'm used to it."

His jaw tightened.

"Used to what?"

"Being the help."

He didn't answer.

But something in his eyes darkened.

Like anger.

Not at me.

At something else.

Silence again.

Then he sniffed.

Softly.

Like he was testing the air.

I almost laughed.

But his expression changed.

Completely.

His shoulders stiffened.

His eyes sharpened.

His pupils widened.

Like a predator locking onto prey.

Or

No.

Not prey.

Something precious.

Something rare.

"What shampoo do you use?" he suddenly asked.

"What?"

"Your scent."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You smell..."

He stopped.

Like he didn't want to finish the sentence.

"That's weird," I said quickly. "Please don't smell me."

For the first time, his lips twitched.

Almost a smile.

"Sorry."

But he didn't look sorry.

He looked confused.

Shaken.

Like something impossible just happened.

My phone buzzed.

A message from Sienna.

Change upstairs. I left you a blue dress. Hurry.

Right.

Focus.

Work.

Leave.

"That's why I came," I said, lifting the bag. "She told me to change. The zipper on my old dress broke."

He looked at the bag.

Then at me.

Then in the bathroom.

"You can change here," he said.

I choked. "Here?"

"I'll step out."

"You don't have to"

"It's fine."

His voice softened slightly.

And somehow that was more dangerous than when he sounded cold.

He turned his back.

I quickly slipped behind the divider and changed.

The blue dress hugged my body tighter than I expected.

Too tight.

Definitely not my style.

I struggled with the zipper.

It wouldn't move.

I twisted. Pulled. I tried again.

Nothing.

"Of course," I muttered. "Of course today hates me."

"Problem?" his voice came.

"It's stuck."

Silence.

Then

"Turn around."

My heart skipped.

"Wh-what?"

"I'll fix it."

"That's okay, I'll manage"

"You can't reach."

He was right.

I hated that he was right.

Slowly, I stepped out.

My back to him.

My hands clenched.

"Don't laugh," I said.

"I won't."

His voice was closer now.

Too close.

I felt his fingers brush the fabric near my spine.

Warm.

Careful.

My breath caught.

Electricity shot through me.

My skin tingled where he touched.

Why?

Why does it feel like this?

It's just a zipper.

Just a stranger.

Just

His fingers accidentally brushed my skin.

And everything stopped.

My heart slammed so hard it hurt.

The air felt thick.

My thoughts scattered.

For one second

I wanted him to touch me again.

I hated myself for that.

"You're cold," he murmured.

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

"Why do you care?"

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

He paused.

Then said quietly,

"I don't know."

The zipper slid up.

Smooth.

Done.

But neither of us moved.

Not yet.

We were too close.

His breath was warm near my neck.

My pulse is loud in my ears.

If I turn around, I'll bump into him.

If I stay still, I'll lose my mind.

Finally, I stepped forward.

Distance.

Air.

Sanity.

"Thank you," I said.

He nodded.

But his eyes were still locked on me.

Like I might disappear.

Like he was afraid to blink.

"Have we met before?" he asked.

"No."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

He frowned.

"Then why does my wolf recognize you?"

I stared at him.

"Your... what?"

He went quiet.

Too quiet.

Like he had said too much.

"Forget it," he said quickly.

But I didn't forget.

Wolf?

What kind of joke is that?

Or was it a metaphor?

Was he drunk?

Crazy?

Or

Something else?

Something I didn't understand yet?

My phone buzzed again.

Sienna.

Where are you? Guests asking for drinks.

"I have to go," I said.

He didn't stop me.

But his eyes followed every step.

Like he was memorizing how I walked.

Like he was afraid this would be the last time he saw me.

That thought scared me.

Why would it be the last time?

Why does it feel like something big is about to happen?

My hand touched the door.

Then

behind me

so soft I almost didn't hear it

he whispered,

"Second chance...?"

I froze.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

But his voice wasn't steady.

It sounded shaken.

Like hope.

Like fear.

Like he had just found something he lost a long time ago.

I stepped into the hallway.

My heart is still racing.

My skin is still burning.

My mind still stuck on him.

Who are you?

Why do you look at me like that?

And why does it feel like meeting you just changed my life?

Behind the door, I heard something heavy move.

A low sound.

Almost like a growl.

Deep.

Animals.

Not human.

I turned slowly.

The door was still closed.

But for one second

I could swear I saw a shadow under the gap.

Too large.

Too wide.

Not shaped like a man.

My breath caught.

What are you?

Before I could think further, footsteps approached.

And a cold voice spoke from the corridor behind me.

"Well," a man said softly, "so you're the girl the Alpha can't stop staring at."

I turned.

A stranger smiled at me.

But his eyes were sharp.

Dangerous.

I'm interested.

"Let's talk," he said.

My stomach dropped.

How does he know that?

How many people were watching me tonight?

And why?

Behind the door, the Alpha whispered my scent like a prayer.

In front of me, a stranger smiled like a threat.

And for the first time in my life...

I realized I wasn't invisible anymore.

I was being hunted.