Chapter 4 The One Who Watches Quietly

Arya kept her head low and her mouth shut.

She'd spent two weeks as "Ryn," a quiet, skilled soldier who didn't ask questions or draw attention. Most of the others either ignored her or underestimated her. That was fine. She wasn't here to make waves.

She was here to survive. To watch. To wait.

And right now, staying invisible was her best weapon.

Except... not everyone overlooked her.

---

It started with short glances during drills, a nod after sparring. Lucas-the pack's Beta-had a way of watching people like he was reading their story, even when they said nothing at all.

He wasn't like Kael. Where the Alpha was cold steel, Lucas was quiet fire-calm, steady, and sharp when he needed to be. People liked him. Trusted him.

Arya didn't know if she could do either.

But one evening after training, while most of the others were collapsing from exhaustion, Lucas walked up beside her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"You don't talk much."

She didn't look at him. "Don't have much to say."

He handed her a water bottle anyway. "Come on patrol with me tomorrow. You could use some fresh air."

Arya hesitated, just for a second, before nodding.

"Sure."

The next morning, they moved through the outskirts of the territory. The woods were cool, and the air was crisp with the scent of pine and something else... something painfully familiar.

The deeper they went, the harder it became to keep her guard up. Every tree felt like a memory. Every path they took, she had walked once before-with different people, under different skies.

Then they reached the edge of the old training ring.

It was barely standing now-vines crept up the broken pillars, and the sparring circles were overgrown with weeds. But Arya knew every crack in the stone. She'd bled here. Laughed here.

She froze for half a second.

Lucas noticed. "Strange place, huh? Hardly anyone comes out this far anymore."

She nodded slowly.

"I know," she said, before catching herself. "I mean I read about it. In the archives."

Lucas glanced at her, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "You read pack history?"

"I like knowing where I am," she said casually, keeping her tone even. "The more I know, the less I get surprised."

He smiled faintly, accepting the answer without question. "Smart."

They kept walking.

But Arya could feel it-he'd tucked that moment away. Maybe he'd forget it. Maybe not.

Either way, she had to be more careful.

---

Back at the training ground, Arya sat on the edge of her bunk, lacing her boots in silence.

Across the room, she caught a flicker of Damon's stare-the Gamma. Still watching. Still quiet. He never said anything to her, but she could feel it. He saw the way she moved. He knew something didn't add up.

He didn't trust her.

Lucas, on the other hand... might.

Later that night, she saw the two men talking near the Alpha's quarters. Damon stood stiff, like he was warning him about something. Lucas, more relaxed, just shrugged.

Arya slipped away before they saw her.

---

She returned to the ruins of the old training arena after dark, when everyone else was asleep. The moon was high again-always watching. Just like Kael used to.

She crouched and pressed her hand to the ground.

This place still remembered her.

"I came back," she whispered, the words barely sound. "And no one knows it's me."

Not even him.

Her wolf stirred beneath her skin. Not impatient-just waiting.

She could feel the bond again. Faint. Flickering like a heartbeat she'd tried to forget.

But she wasn't that girl anymore.

She wouldn't beg.

She wouldn't break.

She would wait.

The training grounds were nearly empty now, quiet except for the distant hum of voices coming from the mess hall. Dusk was settling in, and a soft orange glow stretched across the clearing, painting the trees in warm light.

Kael had come out here to clear his head-but now he found himself rooted in place, leaning silently against a tall pine just outside the ring.

She was here again.

The new soldier.

She wasn't sparring with anyone this time. No audience, no opponent-just her, the wooden dummy, and the rhythm of her breathing. Her punches were quick, efficient, her movements clean and practiced. Not flashy, not showy. Just... sharp.

Kael watched her without meaning to, arms folded across his chest, something tightening in his chest the longer he stood there.

He didn't even know her real name. The other soldiers called her Run, some half-joke about how fast she moved when sparring. But Kael knew better. There was depth in her eyes. Pain, too. She moved like someone who had fought through hell and come back stronger for it.

And despite everything... watching her brought him a strange kind of peace.

For once, his mind wasn't racing.

For once, he didn't feel like breaking something.

"Finally quiet in here," Kael muttered under his breath.

"Must be a miracle," came the low, dry voice in his head.

Kael sighed. His wolf had been unusually silent for days, but of course now-now-he decided to speak.

"You've barely said two words to me all week," Kael said inwardly.

"Busy ignoring your guilt," the wolf shot back. "But I see she's still got you staring like a fool."

Kael rubbed the back of his neck, jaw tightening. "She's... skilled."

"She's more than skilled," his wolf growled. "And you know it."

Kael said nothing. Down in the ring, she adjusted her stance and threw another set of punches, then pivoted into a low sweep that looked like it could knock a man off his feet in one move.

She wasn't just trained. She was seasoned.

But she never boasted. Never spoke more than she needed to. She just kept showing up, getting stronger.

"She doesn't act like a newcomer," Kael admitted quietly.

His wolf snorted. "She doesn't smell like one either."

Kael frowned, folding his arms tighter. "What are you getting at?"

"You're drawn to her. You know why."

Kael stiffened.

He hated this part. The part where his wolf reminded him of the decision that still haunted him.

"I had to reject the bond," he said, eyes locked on the woman below. "It wasn't the right time. I couldn't afford the distraction."

"You didn't reject it because of timing," the wolf snarled. "You rejected her. And now you're out here, watching her like she's the last piece of calm left in your life."

Kael's chest tightened.

He wanted to argue. Wanted to say it wasn't her. That it was the pressure, the fear, the responsibilities... but it all sounded like excuses.

Because deep down, he knew the truth.

He'd felt the pull even back then. And now, standing there with the fading sunlight wrapping around her figure, he felt it again. Only stronger. More painful. More familiar. But when he touched her earlier he didn't feel the sparks that comes with the bond.

She didn't notice him. Not once.

And still, he couldn't look away.

His wolf exhaled sharply. "You feel it in your bones. In the quiet. Even I'm not snapping at you right now, and you know why."

Kael nodded slightly. "She calms us."

"Yeah," the wolf said, softer this time. "She grounds us."

Kael let out a slow breath, the kind that felt like it had been trapped in his chest for days. It was maddening-this feeling he didn't understand, didn't want to name. But even his wolf, angry and betrayed as he was, had gone quiet for the first time in a long while.

They watched her together, in silence.

As she moved through her final form, sweat slicking her brow, her breaths coming out steady and focused, Kael realized something strange.

She didn't look lost.

She looked like she belonged.

And maybe-just maybe-that was what scared him the most.

Because if she belonged... then what did that make him?

Kael pushed off the tree finally, not ready for the answers that lingered in the back of his mind. But as he turned to leave, his wolf whispered one last thing.

"You'll have to face her one day."

Kael didn't respond.

He just walked away-quiet, confused, and no longer sure who he was really trying to protect anymore.

---