Lyra's POV
I was on my way to fetch some supplies from the storage room when I saw him again—Kellan, the Beta. He stood at the end of the hall, leaning casually against the wall as if he'd been waiting for me. My steps faltered, and I contemplated turning back, but before I could make a decision, his eyes locked on mine.
There was no escaping now.
He pushed off the wall and started walking toward me with that effortless confidence that made my stomach twist into knots. My breath hitched when he stopped just inches away, his proximity overwhelming. His scent was subtle but familiar, stirring something deep within me that I couldn't quite place.
"Lyra," he said softly, his voice smooth but carrying a strange weight that made my heart skip.
That familiarity again. Why did his voice, his presence, everything about him feel like something I should remember? I stared at his chest, unable to look up, afraid of what I might see in his eyes.
"Lyra," he said again, this time firmer, demanding my attention.
I swallowed hard, willing my voice to come out steady. "What do you want?" I asked, my tone sharper than I intended. Then, before I could stop myself, I blurted, "Why are you acting like you know me?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stared at me, his gaze burning into mine like he was trying to read my soul. The silence between us stretched, thick and heavy. Then, finally, he took a small step back, breaking the tension but leaving me with more questions than answers.
His eyes flickered with something I couldn't decipher before he turned his head slightly, exhaling as if he was letting go of a secret.
"You ask too many questions," he muttered, but his tone wasn't cold—it was almost... amused?
And just like that, he started to walk away, his broad shoulders disappearing down the corridor.
I stood there, frozen, my mind spinning with thoughts I couldn't piece together. Who was he? Why did he feel so familiar? And why did his scent, his voice, his presence feel like a memory I couldn't reach?
I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to calm my racing heart. Whatever connection I might have to Kellan, it was buried deep, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to uncover it.
After Kellan left, I stood there for a moment, trying to gather myself. His presence always left me feeling unsteady, like the ground beneath my feet wasn't solid anymore.
Taking a deep breath, I shook off the encounter and made my way to the storage room. I quickly gathered the supplies I needed and headed back to the kitchen, hoping to lose myself in work and avoid any more run-ins for the day.
But, of course, luck wasn't on my side.
As I approached the kitchen door, I heard the voice I dreaded the most.
"Well, well, if it isn't the Omega," Kiera sang mockingly, stepping into my path.
I stopped in my tracks, already exhausted from the day. Not again. I didn't have the energy for this.
"Kiera, I need to get in," I said, keeping my voice calm and steady.
Her lips curled into a smirk, and she tilted her head as if savoring the moment.
"Then make me," she taunted, crossing her arms and blocking the doorway.
I clenched my jaw, my wolf, Hope, stirring restlessly. She was fed up with Kiera's antics, and honestly, so was I.
Let me handle her, Hope growled in my mind, her voice low and edged with irritation.
I shoved the thought away, trying to keep her calm. No, I can't let you out now. Not here, not like this.
Kiera noticed the flicker of emotion on my face and stepped closer, her smirk widening. "What's the matter? Did I hurt your feelings?"
The condescension in her voice made Hope growl louder, and it took everything in me to keep her in check. My hands tightened around the basket I was holding, the urge to shove Kiera out of my way growing stronger by the second.
"Move," I said, my tone sharper this time.
"And if I don't?" Kiera challenged, raising an eyebrow.
I didn't even think about it—I just acted. Hope's simmering anger fueled my movements as I stepped forward and shoved her back with enough force to make her stumble.
Kiera's eyes widened in surprise, and for a brief moment, I felt a flicker of satisfaction. Hope stirred again, pushing harder, and I could feel her anger bubbling just beneath the surface.
Let me out. She deserves it, Hope urged.
Not now, I shot back, taking a deep breath to steady myself.
Kiera recovered quickly, her shock replaced with anger. She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could say anything, another voice called out from the kitchen.
"What's going on out there?"
I didn't wait for Kiera's response. I stepped around her and walked into the kitchen, ignoring the way her glare burned into my back. Hope was still restless, but I pushed her down, reminding myself that I couldn't afford to lose control—not here, not now.
As I got to work, I couldn't shake the feeling that my patience was running thin. How much longer could I keep this act up? How much longer could I keep Hope a secret before it all came crashing down?