Chapter 93: Chapter 93
The sun had already slipped beneath the jagged line of the mountains when I heard his voice.
"Walk with me."
That was all he said.
No glance, no tone, no hint of reason just the command, quiet but heavy enough to crush the air out of my lungs.
I froze for half a heartbeat, my fingers still dusted with flour from the dough I’d been kneading. Then, automatically, I wiped my hands on the apron and lowered my head.
"Yes, Alpha."
The words came out small, but he didn’t even look my way. He simply turned and walked out of the quarters, the long black coat he wore shifting slightly in the wind that followed him.
My heart stumbled in my chest.
He had been gone the entire day. I’d thought maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t come back tonight. But now here he was back, and silent, his presence filling the walls like smoke. I followed.
Outside, the night was pale and sharp. The moon hung low, spilling silver across the gravel path that led into the woods. The trees whispered against one another, their shadows long and thin, like skeletal hands reaching for the ground.
I kept my distance exactly five steps behind him, the way the servants said was safe. My breath came out in small clouds, each one trembling before it vanished.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t even look over his shoulder to see if I was there.
I walked because that was what I was supposed to do. Because refusing wasn’t an option. Because even though he hadn’t raised his voice, even though he hadn’t threatened me, I knew what he was capable of. I had seen what happened when people disobeyed him.
The crunch of our footsteps was the only sound for a long time. Every now and then, the wind would move through the trees, carrying the smell of damp earth and pine.
He walked with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders straight, his pace unhurried but there was something about him that never felt still. Even when his body was calm, his energy wasn’t. It was the kind of quiet that felt like it could explode at any second.
I didn’t dare lift my eyes from the ground, but I could feel him every small movement, every breath he took. My pulse thudded painfully against my ribs.
And then, faintly, it started. His inner voice again
Low. Smooth. Threaded through with something dark and almost... fond.
"Inner voice: She’s trembling again.
I stopped breathing.
Zach didn’t turn, He just kept walking.
The voice hummed softly, thoughtful.
"Inner voice: She thinks I don’t notice when she shakes. I always notice.
My throat went dry. I wanted to cover my ears, to run, but my legs kept moving on their own.
He didn’t know I could hear it.
Still following, the voice murmured.
"Inner voice: Good little thing, isn’t she? Always follows.
A cold rush went through me.
I stared down at the dirt path, counting my steps just to keep from breaking. Five behind him. Always five.
We walked deeper into the woods. The moonlight filtered through the trees, pale and uneven. Every sound the rustle of leaves, the faint snap of a twig made me flinch.
The silence between us wasn’t real silence. It was something heavier, something alive.
His boots stopped suddenly.
I froze too. He didn’t turn. He didn’t move for several seconds, and then, slowly, his head tilted toward the sky.
The moonlight touched the edge of his face the line of his jaw, the dark fall of his hair.
He exhaled softly, and the sound made the back of my neck prickle.
For a moment, there was nothing. Then that voice his voice, the one buried inside him whispered again.
"Inner voice: She thinks I brought her here to kill her.
My stomach turned to ice.
The whisper came with a tone that almost sounded amused, but it wasn’t quite laughter. It was something quieter, deeper, as if the thought of my fear pleased him and disgusted him at the same time.
Zach still hadn’t moved. His back was straight, his hands relaxed at his sides. But I could feel the tension rolling off him slow, deliberate, like a predator deciding whether to pounce.
She’s so small when she’s scared.
My eyes burned. I blinked hard, forcing myself not to cry.
He started walking again, slower this time. I followed. My legs felt heavy, my knees weak. The ground was uneven, and I stumbled once a sharp rock catching my foot. I didn’t make a sound.
If I did, I didn’t know what would happen. He led me into a clearing I’d never seen before. The trees opened up around us, the air colder, thinner. The moon was high, bright enough to paint everything silver. He stopped.
I stopped too. He stood perfectly still, facing away from me, and the silence grew so deep that even the forest seemed to hold its breath. Then, softly You want to run, don’t you?bThe voice again. Smooth as honey. Cruel as winter.bI flinched.
Zach didn’t speak aloud, didn’t move.
But you won’t. You never do.
I could almost feel it the smirk hidden behind those words.
My breath hitched. My hands trembled. I wanted to close my eyes, but I didn’t dare.
You should see yourself, the voice continued, almost tender now. Heart pounding, breath shaking, staring at my back like I’m a ghost.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t.
A few seconds passed, and then the air seemed to shift. The voice changed lower, quieter.
That one was different. Still his, but not the same tone. A command aimed at himself.
Then silence again.bHe turned slowly.nThe world tilted when his eyes met mine cold, distant, the color of a storm about to break.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The look alone made my knees weak. For a heartbeat, I thought he might say something. But he just watched me, as if trying to read something off my skin.
I didn’t breathe. Then, without warning, he turned away and started back toward the house. I followed, still five steps behind. The air between us was tight, the kind that pressed on your ribs until it hurt to inhale.
The voice didn’t return until we were nearly at the edge of the woods.
"Inner voice: She listens too well.
It sounded thoughtful. Curious.nMaybe that’s why she hears me.
My heart stopped.
I stumbled slightly, my breath catching in my throat.
No. He couldn’t know. He couldn’t.
Zach’s head tilted just slightly, like he’d heard something behind himbut then he kept walking.
We reached the clearing near the Alpha’s quarters. He stopped at the door, hand on the knob, his back still to me.
The night wind shifted again. I thought he was going to say something maybe dismiss me, maybe order me away but he didn’t.
He stood there, silent for so long I began to feel dizzy.
Then, softly, that same inner whisper again:
"Inner voice: If she knew what I was thinking right now... she’d never close her eyes again.
The door opened. He stepped inside without a glance in my direction.
I stayed outside until I was sure he was gone, until the cold started to burn my skin.
When I finally went in, the quarters were dark. His scent smoke, pine, something sharp and electric lingered in the air.
I spread my thin blanket on the floor near the corner, far from his door, and lay down. My body was trembling, but I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or the memory of that voice.
The silence of the room pressed against me. I listened for it that whisper that wasn’t supposed to exist but it didn’t come again. Eventually, my eyelids grew heavy. And just before sleep pulled me under, I thought I felt it again the faintest brush of a voice in the dark, close enough to my ear to make my breath stop.
Sleep, little one.
when I woke up again, I blinked once. The ceiling above me wasn’t the one from the Alpha’s quarters. It was cracked and uneven, the same dull gray I’d stared at countless mornings in the omega dormitory. My breath caught. I was back. For a moment, I thought maybe I’d dreamed everything — the walk, the silence, the bridge, the dizzying weight of fear that had crushed me until everything went dark. Maybe I’d just imagined the way my body had gone cold before the world vanished.
But the look on Joan’s face shattered that fragile hope.
She was sitting on the edge of my bed, eyes swollen from lack of sleep. When she saw my eyes open, she jumped as if she’d seen a ghost.
"Ellie," she breathed. "You’re awake."
My throat was dry, voice cracked when I tried to speak. "What happened?"
Joan hesitated, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. "You fainted," she whispered. "Last night... during the walk. You didn’t come back."
The word "walk" made my stomach twist. I remembered flashes the Alpha’s back, his long shadow, the silence that grew so deep it drowned everything else. My knees had buckled somewhere between the bridge and the courtyard.
I swallowed hard. "Then how did I—?"
Joan looked toward the corner of the room, as if making sure no one else was listening. Her voice dropped lower.
"He brought you back."
For a second, I didn’t understand what she meant. My brain refused to process the words. "Who did?"
She didn’t answer right away. Just stared at me, the silence stretching too long.
Then softly, "Alpha Zach."
My breath hitched. I sat up too fast, dizziness washing over me, but I didn’t care. "No," I whispered. "That’s impossible. He—he wouldn’t.
Joan shook her head, voice trembling. "Everyone saw it, Ellie. The guards, the omegas in the corridor. He carried you himself."
The room tilted. The blanket felt heavy, suffocating. "Carried... me?"
Joan nodded. "Over his shoulder. You were unconscious. He didn’t say a word. Just walked straight through the hall and into here." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "He put you on the bed himself."
The words didn’t feel real. The thought of him that cold, dangerous man stepping foot into the omegas’ quarters was something no one could even imagine. Omegas weren’t worth a second glance from him. We were furniture, background noise.