CHAPTER 4
VERITY'S POV
The air in the Nightwalker stronghold was heavy, almost suffocating. It wasn't just the fortress itself, with its cold stone walls and ominous silence. It was him—Alpha Darek. He was a storm personified, his presence thunderous even in his silence.
I watched from my room window as he mercilessly wound his men, his beta for that matter.
" He is truly a heartless monster," I muttered to myself. He was watching me I could feel his eyes on me through the window. I quickly closed my curtains.
"You must be strong Verity," I said to myself. I refused to let him see me as weak. He wanted a submissive Luna to fall in line, but that wasn't me. I had survived too much to cower now.
My room was spacious but impersonal. The only personal touch I added was a single lavender-scented candle, a small reminder of home. As it flickered in the dim light, I traced the outline of my mother's pendant, the last thing she had given me before she passed.
"I won't let him break me, Mother," I whispered to myself.
The next few days were tense. Darek avoided me, and I avoided him. The warriors treated me with caution, their gazes questioning. I knew they didn't trust me, and frankly, I didn't trust them either.
But I had a role to play, even if it killed me.
On the fourth day, a pack meeting was called. Darek's deep voice summoned everyone to the grand hall. When I arrived, the room was packed. The atmosphere was charged, whispers bouncing off the stone walls like echoes of secrets.
Darek stood at the front, his towering figure commanding attention. His piercing eyes scanned the crowd, briefly landing on me before moving on.
"This meeting is to address the recent rogue attacks near our borders," he began, his voice steady and authoritative.
Rogues. My heart skipped a beat. The memory of my run-in with rogues resurfaced—dark, twisted creatures that had almost cost me my life.
"We've strengthened our patrols," he continued, "but the attacks are becoming more coordinated. This is no random movement."
The crowd murmured in agreement, tension thick in the air.
"Do we suspect another pack?" one of the warriors asked.
"It's possible," Darek said. "But until we have evidence, we will treat this as an external threat. Patrols will double, and no one leaves the territory unaccompanied."
His gaze returned to me, lingering for a moment too long.
"That includes our Luna," he added, his tone cold.
The crowd turned to look at me, their expressions unreadable. Heat rose to my cheeks, but I forced myself to stand tall.
"I understand," I said firmly, refusing to let him see my discomfort.
After the meeting, I wandered the halls, trying to clear my mind. I knew Darek had commented to assert his control, to remind everyone of my place here.
"You're braver than you look," a voice said from behind me.
I turned to see Caleb, Darek's beta. His easy smile contrasted sharply with the harshness of the other warriors. The scars on his face have healed completely.
"Or maybe just stubborn," I replied, matching his tone.
Caleb chuckled. "Either way, it's refreshing. Most people don't stand up to Darek."
"Maybe more people should," I said without thinking.
His smile faltered slightly, but there was no malice in his eyes. "Be careful, Verity. Darek isn't someone you want to provoke."
"Noted," I said, though I wasn't sure I believed it.
That night, I couldn't sleep. The weight of everything—the marriage, the pack's distrust, the looming threat of rogues—pressed down on me like a suffocating blanket.
I decided to take a walk, hoping the cool night air would clear my head. The corridors were silent, the only sound was my bare feet against the stone floor.
As I stepped into the courtyard, I froze.
Darek was there, his broad back to me, his head tilted as if he were listening to the wind.
"You shouldn't be out here," he said without turning around.
"Neither should you," I replied, crossing my arms.
He turned then, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. For a moment, neither of us spoke.
"You're reckless," he said finally.
"And you're controlling," I shot back.
A flicker of something crossed his face—anger, maybe, or amusement. It was gone before I could place it.
"Go back inside, Verity," he said, his voice softer this time.
"Not until you tell me why you're out here," I challenged.
He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "The rogues. They're closer than I'd like to admit. I can feel them, lurking just beyond the borders."
The vulnerability in his voice caught me off guard. For a moment, he didn't seem like the cold, unyielding Alpha. He seemed... human.
"I know what it's like to feel hunted," I said quietly.
His eyes softened, but only for a moment.
"You don't know anything about me," he said, turning away his voice cold as ice.
"Maybe not," I said, "but I know you're not as heartless as you pretend to be."
"That's what you think,' but I will give you good advice, "stay away from me; I am much worse than a monster and will haunt your darkest nightmares," he said with his voice as cold as ice.
"Or maybe that's what you want everyone to believe," I said, looking directly into his eyes. I could see pain or sadness lurking in them, but he was going at masking his emotions, but the eyes never lie.
He didn't respond, and after a long silence, I turned and walked back inside.
But as I lay in bed, I couldn't shake the image of him standing alone in the moonlight, the weight of the world on his shoulders. I wonder what had made him so cold and heartless. I wish I could get to know more about him.
Maybe Darek Nightwalker wasn't the monster I thought he was.
Or maybe he was just better at hiding it.