Chapter 6 #2
“And Harlow helped. It’s proven to work, right?” I add.
“Beginner’s luck,” Mr. Moris mutters, rolling his eyes. Harlow and I exchange a look as he pouts.
“I’m sorry,” I tell Jo quietly. “I only wanted to save you.”
She smiles, warm and unbothered. “You did. And hey, now Mr. Moris gets one and a half Lycans to train.” She smirks. For the first time since I woke up, the tight knot in my chest loosens just a little.
After dinner, Mr. Moris retires to his room. Jo, Harlow, and I linger a while longer, talking about Jo’s origins, her life at the club, and the visitors whose strange behavior often leaves her baffled.
Out of all her stories, one thing keeps tugging at my thoughts.
Jo keeps praising Mr. Moris, keeps tolerating his sharp cynicism.
She doesn’t know exactly how he manages to protect everyone in the club, or what his real magic power is, but she insists on one thing with quiet certainty.
This place is safe. Safer than anywhere else she has known.
“Alright, that’s enough for tonight,” Harlow says when the clock hits ten. “You need some rest.”
Jo heads downstairs for a bit, while Harlow walks me back to my room. The hallway is narrow, dimly lit, and suddenly his presence fills all of it. My heart starts racing again, uninvited and relentless. We stop in front of my door.
“Get some good rest,” he says softly.
“Thank you, Harlow. For everything,” I murmur, smiling wider than I mean to.
I still can’t understand why he helps me. Even now, the real reason he pulled me out of Alpha Alastair’s grip remains a mystery. Maybe it was pity. Maybe it was defiance against Alpha Gabriel. Whatever the truth is, I feel safe with him. I trust him. I lean on him without realizing when it started.
“Just promise me one thing,” he says quietly. “Don’t do anything that reckless again.”
His eyes hold mine, dark and polished like onyx, steady and close. The way he looks at me now is protective, grounded, and I like this side of him more than I should.
“I can try,” I say, grinning.
He lets out a short laugh. “You’re gonna be the death of me someday.”
His hand reaches up and ruffles my hair, squeezing my head like he’s teasing.
I grab his arms, half laughing, half pretending to push him away, though I barely use any strength at all.
The playfulness catches me off guard, but I laugh with him anyway.
When he finally lets go and the laughter fades, my heartbeat doesn’t slow. It quickens.
My gaze lifts to his. His scent does nothing to calm me, only makes it harder not to lean into him. The pull between us sharpens, invisible and magnetic, drawing us closer until our noses are almost touching.
My heart pounds. I hold my breath, rising slightly on my toes without realizing it. Just to be closer to his face, to the sharp line of his jaw.
“Good night,” Harlow whispers, then steps back.
“What?” Mythril groans inside my head. “Why didn’t he kiss you?”
I blink, as if I’m waking from a trance, and draw in a slow breath. No. Maybe he didn’t feel the same.
A small, foolish wish stirs in my chest. That he could be my other mate. Even though I know how impossible that is. Two mates are too many. Too complicated. Too painful. They only ever end in disappointment. I can’t possibly be fated to more than one. Right?
“You okay?” Harlow asks, brow furrowing.
“Oh. Yeah. It’s nothing. Just my wolf,” I say, laughing awkwardly.
He chuckles. “Tell her I said hi.”
I nod. “She says hi back,” I add, after Mythril coos her silent greeting in my head.
“Good night, Alexa,” he says again.
“Good night,” I whisper back.
He stays there, unmoving, waiting for me to go inside first. I glance back at him more than once before finally stepping into my room and closing the door behind me.
Alexa. Maybe that is the last time I hear my name spoken like that. The way he says it makes me wonder if he will always be the one who reminds me who I truly am.
“He makes you fall for him way too fast,” Mythril sighs. “Lightning fast. So why didn’t he kiss you?”
“I don’t know,” I admit silently. “Maybe he doesn’t feel the same.”
“Let’s ask him tomorrow,” Mythril says, far too eager.
“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” I reply, smiling despite myself.
I climb into bed, pull the blanket up to my chin, and let the quiet settle around me. It would be nice if we could live here forever. Somehow, for the first time in my life, I feel peace. Comfort. Safety.
* * *
At five a.m., I jolt awake. Faint noises drift from outside my door. I catch a hint of mint and pine, Harlow’s scent, but it fades quickly.
The next second, I slip into my robe and slippers. I open the door. The hallway is empty. Trusting my nose more than my eyes, I follow the faint trail down to the ground floor. My steps quicken. At the last step, I finally see him.
Harlow carries his backpack and slips through the club’s front door. It shuts before I can call out. Ignoring how simple I must look, I sprint faster, throwing the door open. Outside, I spot his 6’2” sturdy frame in the parking lot and shout.
“Harlow! Wait up!”
He spins, stopping in the lot. I catch my breath and close the distance. “Where are you going?” I ask between ragged breaths.
He stands silent, eyes on me. His flannel sits neat over a white tee, backpack slung over one shoulder, hand gripping the strap.
“You really gonna leave me here all alone?” I ask, heart sinking. Yesterday’s words echo in my mind. Is he really just staying long enough to introduce me to Mr. Moris? And then leaving? This fast?