"Oh, my back!" I grunt while walking beside Josh.
"Stop whining, Arwen. It's Monday, and you like that! What did you do after Diarmid left?" Josh mumbles, rummaging through his bag without looking at me.
I don’t answer. Instead, I take a sip of my coffee, my gaze drifting toward the open field. Morning sunlight spills over the dew-covered grass, making it shimmer like a field of tiny diamonds. The sight feels oddly comforting, a stark contrast to the dull ache in my back.
Josh stops walking and turns to me, raising an eyebrow. "Don’t tell me you stayed up reading again. Let me guess—another dark romance with a brooding alpha male?"
I roll my eyes, but a small smile tugs at my lips. "For your information, no. I was just… thinking."
"Thinking?" He adjusts his bag strap and narrows his eyes suspiciously. "About a certain tall, mysterious guy—"
"Shh!" I cut him off, glancing around nervously. "Someone could hear you!"
Josh chuckles, his amusement only fueling my panic. "Relax, Arwen. Nobody’s eavesdropping. But seriously, you’ve got it bad. And don’t even try to deny it."
To be honest, I wasn’t able to sleep—not because of Diarmid, but because of the hooded dark figure I saw after Diarmid left. I don’t want to face that thing again, but something tells me it’s connected to Nick’s disappearance.
The memory sends a chill down my spine, and I clutch my coffee cup tighter. Could it really be related to Nick? Or was it just my imagination playing tricks on me?
Before I can dwell further, Leroy arrives, his cheerful energy immediately lifting the mood. He greets us with a broad smile and plants a kiss on Josh's cheek.
"How are you ladies?" Leroy teases, draping his arm around Josh.
"Still alive," Josh replies with a smirk.
"Speak for yourself," I mutter, eliciting a laugh from Leroy.
We continue walking toward our classroom, the casual banter between Josh and Leroy keeping the conversation light. But even as I laugh along, my thoughts linger on the figure I saw.
As we near the building, I glance over my shoulder, a faint prickle of unease running down my spine. For a moment, I could swear I see a shadow dart into the trees lining the field. Shaking my head, I dismiss the thought.
"Come on, Arwen. We’re going to be late!" Josh calls, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Coming!" I reply, forcing a smile as I quicken my pace.
Meanwhile, in the woods…
Diarmid crouched low on the forest floor, his piercing blue-grey eyes scanning the area. His Beta, Finn, stood beside him, his sharp gaze equally vigilant. Roisin and Rhyian flanked them, their movements swift and silent, blending seamlessly with the shadows.
"You sensed it too," Finn said, his voice low but steady.
Diarmid nodded, his jaw tightening. "Something—or someone—was here last night. The scent is faint, but it’s not one of ours."
Roisin sniffed the air, her brows furrowing. "It’s not human, either. This reeks of something… ancient."
"Dangerous," Rhyian added, her tone grim.
Diarmid’s mind raced, the memory of the dark figure near Arwen’s home flashing before him. He had felt its presence even before it showed itself—a malicious energy that made his instincts roar in warning.
"We need to figure out what it is," Diarmid said, his voice firm. "And why it’s here."
"Do you think it has anything to do with Arwen?" Finn asked, glancing at him.
Diarmid’s expression darkened. "I’m certain it does. She’s connected to something bigger—something she doesn’t even realize yet. And until we know more, we need to stay close to her."
Roisin smirked faintly. "Not that you need an excuse to stick around her, Diarmid."
A low growl rumbled in Diarmid’s chest, silencing her teasing. "This isn’t a game, Roisin. Whatever this is, it’s a threat to her—and to us too."
The pack nodded in unison, understanding the gravity of his words.
"Roisin, Rhyian, patrol the perimeter. Finn, stay on alert and gather intel on any unusual activity in town. I’ll keep an eye on Arwen," Diarmid commanded.
"Of course you will," Finn muttered under his breath, earning a sharp glare from Diarmid.
As the pack dispersed, Diarmid remained rooted in place, his thoughts returning to Arwen. She was his erasthai, his soulmate. And while she might not fully understand the depth of their connection yet, he knew one thing for certain—he would protect her at all costs.
The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Arwen sighed in relief as she gathered her books, grateful the lecture had finally ended. Josh and Leroy stopped by her desk briefly, but their shared schedule demanded they rush off to another class.
“Catch you later, Arwen!” Josh called, waving as he and Leroy disappeared into the hallway.
Arwen slung her bag over her shoulder and was about to leave when Diarmid fell into step beside her.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice casual.
“Yep, lead the way,” she replied, glancing up at him.
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.
Spending time alone with Diarmid wasn’t something she’d planned for, but curiosity won out. “Okay. What do you have in mind?”
“There’s a café near campus,” he suggested. “Good coffee and a quiet vibe.”
“Let’s go,” she agreed, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest.
The café was cozy, with soft lighting casting a warm glow over the rustic wooden furniture. The comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla from the pastries on display. The hum of quiet conversation and the occasional clinking of ceramic cups created a peaceful ambiance.
Arwen cradled her favorite caramel latte, savoring the sweet, nutty scent, while Diarmid took a slow sip of his black coffee, his expression unreadable yet oddly serene.
“Do you always drink it plain?” she teased, tilting her head toward his cup with a playful smirk. “You know, there’s a whole world of flavors out there.”
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching into a faint smile. “You learn to appreciate simplicity,” he replied, his voice calm yet carrying a teasing edge. “Besides, someone has to balance out all that sugar you’re drinking.”
Arwen rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin. “Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze meeting hers. “Challenge accepted.”
The easy banter broke the ice, and they fell into a rhythm as natural as the café’s background music. The conversation started with class and the upcoming assignment, Arwen venting her frustration about the cryptic instructions while Diarmid offered a mix of practical advice and dry humor.
As the minutes passed, the discussion meandered into lighter topics. Arwen found herself laughing at his subtle observations about people and the world, his wit sharp but never cruel. She was surprised at how much she enjoyed his company, the barriers she had unconsciously built around her heart softening under his quiet charm.
Diarmid, for his part, watched her with a mix of amusement and something deeper, his usually guarded expression betraying flashes of warmth. He noted the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, the slight crinkle of her nose when she sipped her latte too quickly and found it too hot. He found himself wanting to prolong the moment, to keep her in this small bubble of peace and lightheartedness.
Eventually, the golden hour arrived, and they stepped out of the café into the cool evening air. The sun had dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of amber and rose. Shadows stretched long and languid across the open field they passed on their way back toward campus. A gentle breeze carried the faint scent of freshly cut grass, and the world seemed to slow down around them.
Diarmid glanced at her as they walked, his tone casual but his words deliberate. “Do you ever… notice things that seem out of place? Little things, maybe, but they feel significant somehow?”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Arwen tilted her head, his question catching her off guard. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated for a moment, his gaze focused on the horizon. “Like moments that don’t quite fit, or… people who seem to know more than they should.” He glanced at her again, his expression unreadable but his eyes searching. “I’m just curious.”
Arwen frowned slightly, thinking. “Sometimes, I guess. But I usually just brush it off. Why?”
He shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. “No reason. Just wondering if you’ve ever felt the world’s a little stranger than it lets on.”
She gave a small laugh, though a flicker of unease stirred within her. “Well, now you’re making me second-guess everything.”
“Not my intention,” he said smoothly, his tone lightening. “Just… something to think about.”
Arwen hugged her arms around herself, more out of habit than from the chill, and glanced at Diarmid. “Thanks for… this. It’s been a while since I’ve just… enjoyed myself.”
Diarmid looked at her, his gaze steady and intent. “You deserve moments like this, Arwen.”
She felt her cheeks heat under his words, and she turned her attention to the horizon. “I guess I’ve just been… distracted lately.”
“Understandable,” he said, his tone softer now. “But you’re stronger than you realize. Don’t forget that.”
They walked in silence for a few beats, the distance between them small but charged. Diarmid’s presence felt solid, like an anchor in the shifting tide of her emotions. For the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to feel grounded, even if only for a moment.
Arwen froze mid-step. Across the university, standing unnervingly still near the trees, was the hooded figure. The air seemed to shift, a chill brushing against her skin despite the sun’s warmth. Her grip on her coffee cup tightened.
“Arwen?” Diarmid’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. He followed her gaze, his sharp eyes narrowing as he spotted the same figure. His senses roared to life, a primal instinct flaring in response to the unease radiating from Arwen.
Without a word, Diarmid stepped closer, the quiet strength of his presence grounding her. Through their proximity, he felt the echo of her fear, and that was all the confirmation he needed.
‘Finn, we have a situation,’ Diarmid’s voice rang through the mindlink, firm and urgent. ‘The hooded figure we sensed earlier is here. I’m bringing Arwen back to the house. Stay alert.’
As Diarmid gently guided Arwen away from the university, the tension in her shoulders didn’t ease. She cast one last glance over her shoulder, only to find the hooded figure gone, the spot near the trees eerily vacant. Her thoughts raced, fragments of worry tangling with memories of the past. Was this connected to Nick’s disappearance? Or perhaps her bloodline?
Diarmid’s hand brushed hers, grounding her once again. “Cmon, Arwen” he said, his voice low but reassuring.
Arwen barely registered the drive to Diarmid’s place, her thoughts stuck on the eerie figure. She had seen it before, hadn’t she? The memory was hazy, like a half-remembered dream, but the unease it brought was all too real.
When they arrived, Diarmid ushered her inside quickly, his hand briefly resting on her back—a grounding touch that somehow made her feel safer. The familiar sight of the house greeted her, though it felt different this time—charged, like an unseen force hung in the air.
“Sit, please,” Diarmid said firmly, motioning toward the couch.
Arwen hesitated. “What’s going on? Diarmid, you’re scaring me.”
“Just trust me,” he said, his tone softening but still leaving no room for argument.
Before she could press further, Brigit entered the room, her usual playful demeanor replaced by calm reassurance. “Hey, Arwen.” She sat beside her, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”
Arwen looked at her, searching for answers. “Do you know what that was? That thing I saw?”
Brigit’s smile didn’t waver, though her eyes briefly flicked to Diarmid, who was standing by the window, his arms crossed. “We’ll figure it out. For now, just breathe. You’ve been through a lot today.”
Arwen frowned but allowed herself to lean back into the plush cushions of the couch. She wrapped her arms around herself, the tension in her body refusing to release. “I feel like I’m going crazy,” she muttered. “First Nick disappears, and now… this.”
Brigit gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not crazy, love. You’ve just been dealing with more than anyone should. Let us handle it.”
Diarmid’s gaze remained fixed on the window, his body a tense silhouette against the fading evening light. “We’ll protect you, Arwen. I promise.”
Before Arwen could reply, Finn entered the room, his sharp eyes scanning her before addressing Diarmid. “Perimeter is clear, for now. Roisin and Rhyian are on patrol.”
“Good,” Diarmid replied, his voice low but commanding. “Stay alert. That thing is watching her—it’s only a matter of time before it makes a move.”
Arwen’s head snapped up at his words. “Wait—what do you mean ‘watching me’? Do you think it’s after me?”
Diarmid finally turned to face her, his expression conflicted. He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he were debating how much to say. “We don’t know enough yet. But you’re safer here than anywhere else.”
“That’s not an answer,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “I feel like… like this is my fault. Like somehow it’s connected to me.”
Diarmid took a step closer, his eyes softening as he crouched slightly to meet her gaze. “Why do you think that?” he asked, his voice gentler now. “What makes you believe it’s after you?”
Arwen hesitated, gripping the blanket Brigit had draped over her. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling, like it’s watching me. Even before tonight. I… I’ve seen it before.”
Diarmid’s jaw tightened at her confession. “Where?”
“A few times on campus,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “At first, I thought I was imagining things. But then… it felt real. Like it was waiting for something.”
Finn exchanged a look with Diarmid, his brows furrowing. “That’s not good,” he muttered.
Brigit, ever the soothing presence, leaned closer to Arwen. “You’ve been carrying this on your own, haven’t you?” she said softly. “You should’ve told someone, love. That’s too much for one person to handle.”
I didn’t say anything.
I looked at Diarmid, then reached into my bag for my phone. My fingers hovered over the screen for a second longer than necessary. Finally, I sent a message to my father.
"I need to talk to Michael," I said, still staring at the phone, unable to meet Diarmid’s gaze.
I don’t know why, but guilt churned in my stomach. It felt wrong to say it aloud, as though mentioning Michael had somehow disrupted the fragile, unspoken bond between us.
Diarmid didn’t respond immediately, but I could feel the weight of his heated gaze. His silence was heavy, deliberate.
It was Finn who finally broke the stillness. “Michael?” His brows furrowed slightly. “The guy from your hometown?”
I nodded, slipping my phone back into my bag.
How could I explain to them what Michael truly meant to my family—or to me? He wasn’t just some guy from my hometown. He was the one who always seemed to know things, the one who was there for every cryptic gathering my parents had hosted.
I glanced at Finn, then stole a nervous look at Diarmid. He was watching me intently, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable.
I bit my lip, suddenly aware of how much tension hung in the air. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them—especially Diarmid. I did. But this… this was something else.
This was bigger than Diarmid and his pack.
“I…” My voice faltered, and I forced myself to sit straighter, wrapping my arms around myself like a shield. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I do. But this isn’t something you can fight.”
Diarmid’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“I’m dealing with something I don’t even understand,” I continued, my voice quieter now. “Something I can’t explain. But Michael might be able to.”
Brigit’s gentle voice pulled me from my thoughts. “What’s so special about Michael, love?”
Her question hung in the air, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure how to answer. How could I put it into words?
The memory came unbidden—vivid, sharp, and haunting.
----------------------------------------
I was eight years old. The house smelled of melted wax and sage, the air thick with an electric hum I didn’t understand. I had peeked around the corner of the living room door, watching as my parents gathered with their friends—the Circle. They were seated in a ring of flickering candles, their faces illuminated by the dim, golden light.
At the center of it all sat the young Michael alongside his father, his calm, commanding presence impossible to ignore. He wasn’t like the others. Even as a child, I had felt it. Where the others fumbled with their whispered words and hesitant movements, Michael was sure, deliberate. He had spoken with a quiet intensity that seemed to make the air around him vibrate.
“You have to be careful,” said Michael’s father. “There are forces older than any of us. Forces that don’t play by the rules we think we know.”
My mom had nodded solemnly, her hand tightening on my father’s. “We’ve seen the signs. The balance is shifting.”
“And so will the burden,” Michael’s father had said, his gaze flickering toward the doorway where I stood, hidden in the shadows. “One day, it will fall to her.”
I had ducked back out of sight, my small heart pounding in my chest. Even then, I had known they were talking about me.
----------------------------------------
I blinked, the memory dissolving into the present. My throat felt tight, and I pressed my palms against my knees to steady myself.
“He knew things,” I said softly, answering Brigit’s question at last. “Things about my parents, about Nick, about… me.”
Diarmid stepped closer, his expression darkening. “What kind of things?”
I hesitated, glancing at him before quickly looking away. “I don’t know exactly how to explain.” I looked back at him and said, “But Michael was always there, always warning us about… something—things that weren’t normal.”
Finn tilted his head. “And you think he’ll know something about this?”
“I think he has answers,” I said firmly. “He always knew more than he let on. If anyone can help me figure this out, it’s him.”
Diarmid’s sharp gaze softened for a moment, and he crouched slightly to meet my eyes. “Arwen,” he said, his voice calm but steady. “If this Michael knows so much, why didn’t he stop whatever happened to Nick?”
The question hit me like a punch to the gut.
“He tried,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I think he tried, but… whatever happened with Nick was too much. I don’t think even Michael could stop it.”
Brigit reached out and squeezed my hand. “Hold on, what are you saying happened to Nick? Nick, your brother, right? I thought he went somewhere to fix some family matters?”
I nodded slowly. “I don’t know how to explain it, but…”
Diarmid stood, his posture tense. “Then we’ll talk to him. You’re not doing this alone.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes silenced me. There was no room for negotiation.
“Finn,” Diarmid said, turning to his Beta. “Get us what we need on Michael. Where he is, who he’s been in contact with—everything.”
Finn nodded sharply, already pulling out his phone. I gave Diarmid a look as if to say, What are you doing? I’ve known Michael ever since we were kids.
Brigit leaned closer to me, her voice soft. “We’ll help you, Arwen. But you have to let us.”
I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat. “But… Michael isn’t like other people. He’s…”
“He’s what?” Diarmid asked, his voice sharp.
I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. “He’s not normal. Or I… not in the way you guys think of normal,” I said, looking at all of them. My eyes stayed glued to Diarmid. “He might not trust you. And honestly, I don’t know if he’ll even trust me anymore.”
Diarmid’s gaze darkened, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “He doesn’t have to trust me,” he said simply. “He just has to tell us what he knows.”