Graham stood atop the center building, his keen eyes scanning the entrance below with the precision of a hawk surveying its territory. The night air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the distant sounds of the forest—a chorus of nocturnal creatures serenading the moonlit sky. He had positioned himself here for a reason, the vantage point giving him a perfect view of anyone entering the center. His gaze was sharp, missing nothing as he observed the scene unfold beneath him. The moon cast a pale glow, illuminating the cobblestone courtyard and the imposing gates that marked the entrance.
As he continued his silent watch, a figure caught his attention—a shadow slipping through the entrance with a stealth that suggested familiarity with secrecy. The figure was cloaked, the hood pulled low over their face, masking their features. The fabric of the cloak flowed around the person like a river of darkness, but despite the concealment, Graham could tell the figure was unmistakably feminine. There was something about the way she moved that stirred a memory within him. A sense of déjà vu washed over him, mingling with his curiosity. He knew he had seen her before, but her identity danced just out of reach, like a word on the tip of his tongue.
Compelled by the need to uncover the truth, Graham's curiosity, always a relentless force driving him forward, spurred him into action. He descended from his perch with a swift, fluid motion, his boots barely making a sound against the stone as he landed. He moved quickly, his long strides covering the distance between the building and the entrance in a matter of seconds. His instincts were on high alert, every sense attuned to the mystery that had just walked into his territory.
Seren's heart pounded in her chest, a wild rhythm that seemed to echo in her ears as she stepped further into the shadows of the center. She had hoped to slip in unnoticed, to accomplish her task without drawing attention. But the moment she heard Graham's voice, sharp and authoritative, slicing through the silence like a knife, her heart nearly stopped. "Who are you? Why are you wearing a hood in the center?" His words were laced with suspicion and an edge that sent a chill down her spine.
She froze, her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Her mind raced, every nerve in her body screaming at her to run, but fear rooted her to the spot. The idea of being recognized, of having her identity exposed and ridiculed, paralyzed her. She clutched the edges of her hood tighter, her fingers trembling, as if the fabric could somehow shield her from the scrutiny of the alpha standing before her.
Graham moved closer, his hand reaching out with deliberate slowness as if savoring the moment before the reveal. His fingers were just inches away from the edge of her hood, ready to pull it back and expose the face hidden beneath. Seren's breath quickened, her eyes wide with fear and anticipation. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his presence bearing down on her like a physical force. Just as she braced herself for the inevitable, a voice rang out, clear and commanding, breaking the tension that hung in the air.
"She's with me. She's my person," the voice declared with authority that brooked no argument. It cut through the silence like a clap of thunder, startling everyone present and drawing all eyes to the speaker. It was Lucian.
All eyes turned toward Lucian, standing at the edge of the crowd with an air of calm confidence. He was usually the quiet observer, the one who kept to himself, rarely intervening in matters that didn't concern him directly. But now, here he was, stepping forward in defense of the hooded figure. The crowd murmured in disbelief, unable to reconcile the aloof, cold-hearted Lucian with the protective stance he was taking.
Graham's surprise was palpable. He blinked, his brow furrowing as he tried to process what he had just heard. Lucian had never spoken of anyone in such a personal manner, let alone claimed someone as his own. The statement was so out of character that it left Graham momentarily speechless, caught off guard by the unexpected declaration.
Conflicted, Graham didn't know how to react. His mind raced, torn between enforcing the rules of the center and respecting Lucian's unprecedented claim. He could feel the eyes of the onlookers on him, waiting to see how he would respond. He moved closer to Lucian, lowering his voice to a whisper, his tone a mixture of confusion and authority. "I'll let this slide because it's your first time, but let it be the last," he said, his voice low and edged with a warning.
With that, Graham turned and walked away, his steps purposeful and his expression hard, not sparing a glance at the hooded figure. As he disappeared into the shadows, the tension in the air seemed to dissipate, leaving behind a murmur of disbelief and speculation among the crowd.
Lucian approached Seren, his expression softening as he reached out to her. He gently took her hand, his touch firm but reassuring, and began to lead her away from the prying eyes and curious whispers. The onlookers watched in awe, their disbelief palpable as they witnessed Lucian, the enigmatic beta known for his cold demeanor, showing such tenderness and care.
He guided her to the back of the center, where the shadows were deeper, and the noise of the crowd faded into a distant hum. The area was secluded, hidden from view by the tall stone walls that enclosed the center. Here, they could speak without fear of being overheard, away from the prying eyes and the lingering questions that hung in the air like a thick fog.
Once they were alone, Seren pulled her hand free, her movements quick and tense. Her voice trembled as she spoke, the words tumbling out in a rush of anxiety and apology. "I'm sorry if my coming here caused you trouble, but I just wanted to return this." She reached into her bag, her fingers fumbling slightly as she retrieved a scroll. The parchment was old and worn, its edges frayed, and she held it out to him with a look of earnestness and urgency.
Lucian took the scroll, his gaze flicking from her face to the object in his hand. He could feel the weight of its significance, the unspoken meaning behind her actions. Before he could respond, Seren turned and fled, her footsteps echoing against the stone as she hurried away. He watched her go, a mixture of confusion and something deeper flickering in his eyes.
As her figure disappeared into the shadows, he looked down at the scroll, his mind racing with questions. The fact that she had risked so much to return it spoke volumes, hinting at a connection he hadn't fully understood until now. He was both surprised and grateful, knowing that if Graham had discovered her identity, the consequences could have been severe. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he felt a prickle of unease creeping up his neck.
The scroll must not be discovered in her midst, for doing so could cost her life at the hands of Graham.
Feeling the weight of unseen eyes upon him, Lucian glanced up at a nearby window. For a moment, he thought he saw a shadow move, a flicker of movement that suggested someone was watching. But when he focused, there was nothing—only the darkness and the faint outlines of the room beyond. Shaking off the feeling, he tucked the scroll into his jacket, determined to ignore the sense of being watched.
With a final glance around, Lucian turned and made his way back into the center, his mind still buzzing with the events of the night. As he walked, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something much larger, a shift in the tides that would bring about unforeseen changes.
*****
Seren left the center, her only thought being to avoid Graham at all costs. She needed to get home without being seen. But as she crossed the threshold of her house, another thought struck her with sudden clarity: she had gone out with someone.
"Layla."