Chapter 4 The figure

Relief and fear warred within me as the door swung open to reveal the Alpha.

He releases a short breath, and I see him take a quick scan of the room and is about to close the door before his eye finds me in the corner.

His expression is that of surprise and then it morphs into confusion. "What are you doing here Ruthni?"

"I am sorry, Alpha, I didn't mean to trespass," I rush to explain myself. "I only used this space as a means of escape, I was being chased.

"Chased?" He asks the confusion causing his brows to furrow more.

Didn't he see the creature though? He appeared just after it disappeared. It was right there.

"Yes, just now. It followed me up until this room!"

He looked at me for a moment, definitely not believing me, before his eyes fell to my knees. He walks up to me and grabs my hand to pull me up. He doesn't let go when he asks, "What happened to you, Ruthni? Why are you bloodied?"

I withdraw my hands from his strong grip. "Nothing Alpha, I merely fell. Alpha, you need to believe me; there's a creature in the packhouse!"

"I have over twenty warriors stationed in this packhouse, a mix of alphas and betas. No creature of any sort can enter without their knowledge. Or mine" He doesn't believe me. Dear goddess, I must look stupid right now.

But I know what I saw, if I had only heard the growling and the footsteps, I would have believed my mind made it up as a result of the storm of emotions I felt.

But I saw it. I saw it.

"Alpha I know what I saw!" I try once more to convince him, my tone pleading.

"You must be delusional from your loss of blood. Come, let Grace take a look at you, she's an excellent healer"

I relent. The Alpha takes me back to the room we first met in, I'm quiet the entire time. My thoughts run in an endless loop.

Was the Alpha right?

Did I really imagine what happened?

I see who I assume to be Grace approaches me, but I'm fast to swerve away from her reach. "I appreciate the concern Alpha, but I need to go. I will be fine."

The Alpha looks at me for a couple of minutes before signaling to Grace, who bows and exits the room.

For a minute he didn't say anything like earlier. He heads to his armchair and situates himself calmly. "What happened..." He asks, turning to look at me. "With Exol?" He looks concerned.

I don't answer. Rather I ask a question of my own. "Why is he down there?". The place was a prison; if you choose to ignore the bed, the table and chair, the enormous bookshelf at the corner, and everything else that gave the illusion of a comfortable room, it is a prison as far as those metal bars stand.

The Alpha doesn't seem affected by the fact that I just ignored his question, he leans back in his chair and relaxes his shoulders. "It's his choice!"

"But you know why! As Alpha, I know you know. Given that he is technically in your home!"

"It is not something for me to tell. I may be Alpha but everyone has a choice to do with their life as they please. If he's willing to tell you, that would be his choice. Not mine".

If he was in the packhouse and the Alpha let him stay, he trusted him.

"I need to go Alpha" I repeat.

Alpha nods and walks me to the door, just as I open and step outside the threshold, I hear him speak. "I expect your return"

Did I have something to return to?

******

By the time I got home, it was nightfall, and the scent of rice pudding was the first thing that caught my attention. It was my favorite.

The house was otherwise quiet. The curtains in the living room were closed but the lights were still on. Mother was awake.

I find my supper easily on the dinner table, covered in a protective film, lying in wait. I approach the table silently, tired. The sight of the pudding with a side of what I was sure was freshly baked bread made me smile. For a moment there, I almost forgot what I went through today.

Not smelling my mate, then getting to do that and meet him with the rejection that followed. And then the chase. All in one day.

As I start to eat, I notice Mother coming out of the store with cans in a basket. She smiled at me once her eyes found me.

"What's that?" I ask when she gets nearer.

"Just some sauce, I'm making stew tomorrow!" She drops them on the table beside me and sits just opposite me. She's smiling...way too much.

She knows.

"Tell me about him!" How did she always do that? I didn't need to tell my mother that I was sad, happy, worried, or whatever. She always knew.

I don't say anything though. It wasn't a tale I was ready to tell yet, so I continued eating, keeping my head down. I avoid eye contact by all means. If she knew that I met him, she would know that it didn't go well.

She gets the message and stands to leave, patting me on the back on her way out.

I sit at the table for an extra hour before resigning to my room. I collapse on my bed with a pillow, the fatigue engulfing me. After a few minutes, before I drift off to sleep entirely, I take off my shoes and change into my nightwear.

All of a sudden I feel a cold breeze waft across my face. The room became heavy, like something had just passed through it. The weight of my body became all too profound.

Something was here!

I try to wave it off, playing to the idea that my mind has been fuzzy all day. But the feeling doesn't go away.

I feel like I'm being watched.

I close my curtain just to be sure and I climb into bed. I bring the comforter up to my neck..higher than usual. I didn't like this feeling. It was weird.

The strange part of it all was that I felt safe. My survival instincts didn't alert me to call for help or to run away. I didn't feel the need to call for my mother in the room meters away from mine.

I just didn't like being watched. Otherwise, I felt strangely safe, but this feeling was unsettling.

The familiar feel of my pitch-black room now felt so foreign. There's a warmth, like liquid light flowing through my veins, yet it doesn't burn; it empowers. It's exhilarating, yet humbling.

When I decide to look out my window, I'm utterly frightened by what I see. Right outside, under a flickering lamppost, is a huge, dark, shadowy figure. The figure has a steady pose, observing something; as I strain my eyes to figure out what it is, my soul nearly jumps out of my body.

It's watching me!