Chapter 2 I’m restless because of her blood

Chapter Two

Maxie’s POV

The moon hung low above the treeline, bleeding silver light across the forest. I stood on the balcony outside my study, my fingers gripping the railing until the iron bit into my skin. The night breeze carried the faint scent of pine, earth… and something else. Something hauntingly familiar.

It had been three days since I brought her here. The girl with the bruised throat, the broken look in her eyes. The girl who called herself Tiara.

A name that was both strange and agonizingly familiar.

Ever since I laid eyes on her, my wolf had been restless. Snarling, pacing, growling her name like a curse. I had tried to ignore it, tried to shove the pull down into the same dark place I’d buried my past. But no matter how many times I told myself she was a stranger, my instincts whispered otherwise.

She didn’t remember me, I knew that much. I could see it in her confusion when our eyes met, in the way her scent trembled with fear instead of recognition. But still, every time she looked at me, I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to fall back into the memories I swore I’d forgotten.

The door creaked open behind me.

“Alpha,” came Leo’s voice, my Beta, and the only one who dared to interrupt me when I looked like this. “The council has been asking about the girl. They want to know why she’s still here.”

I turned slowly, fixing him with a glare sharp enough to silence the rest of his words.

“She stays,” I said flatly.

Leo frowned but didn’t argue. He knew better. “She’s… fragile,” he offered after a moment, lowering his voice. “The pack is starting to talk. They think you’re hiding something.”

I let out a dry laugh. “When don’t they?”

He shifted uneasily, his wolf energy flickering in the air. “They’re saying she might be a spy. From the Crimson Fang pack.”

My jaw tightened. “She isn’t.”

“How do you know?”

Because I’d smelled her blood. Because I’d felt her heartbeat. Because when she looked at me, I felt like I was staring at a ghost.

I said none of that. I only looked past him, out into the night. “She stays,” I repeated, my voice low and final.

Leo hesitated. “Understood.” He bowed his head slightly and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts, and the ache that wouldn’t fade.

I made my way down the stairs toward the medical wing. The hallways were quiet, only the soft hum of moonlight through the tall windows breaking the silence. The packhouse was old, stone walls, heavy oak doors, and the scent of generations burned into every inch. It had always felt like a fortress. Safe. Predictable. But ever since she arrived, it felt… smaller. Like the air itself was holding its breath.

When I reached her room, the door was slightly ajar. Inside, the moonlight spilled over her bed, tracing the outline of her small frame. She was sitting up, her knees drawn to her chest, staring out the window. Her hair fell over her shoulders in loose waves, still damp from the bath she’d finally agreed to take earlier that evening.

I knocked softly. “Can’t sleep?”

She turned, startled, then relaxed when she saw me. “No. It’s too quiet.”

Her voice was soft, cracked around the edges. I could still see faint marks on her neck from where someone’s hands had nearly taken her life. I’d wanted to kill whoever did that. The rage that had burned in me when I found her half-dead on the border still hadn’t cooled.

I stepped inside, careful to keep my voice calm. “You’re safe here.”

She smiled faintly, the kind of smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “That’s what everyone says before they hurt you.”

The words hit harder than I expected. I froze in the doorway, feeling the truth of them scrape against my ribs. “I’m not everyone,” I said quietly.

“I know.” Her gaze dropped to her hands. “You’re the Alpha.”

There was something in the way she said it, not fear, not awe, but familiarity. Like she’d said my name before. Like her mouth already knew the shape of it.

I moved closer, stopping a few feet away from her bed. “You should rest. You’re healing well, but your body needs time.”

“I’ve had enough rest,” she murmured. Her eyes drifted back to the window. “Sometimes when I close my eyes, I see things. Places I’ve never been. People I don’t know.”

My heart stuttered. “Like dreams?”

She nodded. “Maybe. But they feel real. There’s this one, ” she paused, frowning slightly as if reaching for something in her mind. “A field. With tall grass and a big tree in the middle. There’s someone there with me, but I can never see his face.”

My wolf let out a low, painful sound inside me.

A field. A tree. A faceless man.

I remembered it all too clearly, the way she used to lie beside me under that old oak, her laughter echoing through the air as sunlight kissed her skin. I used to tell her the moon loved her more than it loved the night itself.

And then… the memory darkened. The scent of smoke. The sound of her scream. The blood.

I clenched my fists.

“Maybe it’s just my mind playing tricks on me,” she said softly. “Sometimes I think I’ve lived a different life before this one.”

I swallowed hard. “Maybe you have.”

She turned to look at me again, her green eyes bright and curious. “You talk like you believe in second lives.”

I forced a smirk. “I’ve seen enough strange things in this world not to rule anything out.”

She smiled, small but real this time. And it damn near broke me.

Later that night, after she finally drifted to sleep, I found myself standing outside her door again, unable to walk away. My wolf was pacing, growling, mine, mine, mine over and over in my head.

But she wasn’t mine. Not anymore.

Not after what I’d done.

I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes. The memories came, uninvited, the day I’d rejected her, the way her face had crumpled when I said the words, the pain that ripped through me like fire. I’d thought I was protecting her. I thought if I severed the bond, she’d be free from the danger that followed me.

Instead, she vanished.

They said she died that night when rogues attacked the village beyond the river. I’d searched for days, weeks, until I had to accept the truth. I’d lost her.

Now here she was, alive, breathing under my roof, and she didn’t remember me.

Was this the moon’s punishment? To have her close enough to touch, but too far to claim?

I pressed my palms against the wall, trying to steady my breath. “Moon goddess,” I muttered under my breath. “What cruel game are you playing with me?”

There was no answer. Just the steady sound of her heartbeat on the other side of the door. I could hear it, soft, steady, alive.

And for now, that was enough.

The next morning, the packhouse buzzed with rumors. The kitchen staff whispered when I entered. The warriors looked uneasy. Even the elders watched me with questions in their eyes.

I ignored them all.

“She’s the rogue the Alpha found in the woods,” one voice hissed behind me.

“I heard she was carrying something from the Red Night pack.”

“No, no, my cousin said the Alpha looked at her like he knew her…”

My wolf snapped, and before I could stop myself, I let out a low growl that silenced the room. The whispers died instantly.

“Anyone caught spreading lies about her,” I said coldly, “will answer to me directly.”

The silence that followed was absolute.

I turned and left before I could see their faces.

By the time evening fell again, I found myself outside her door once more. I didn’t knock this time. I needed to see her, needed to remind myself she was real.

She was standing near the fireplace, her hair glowing gold in the flickering light. She looked up as I entered, surprise flickering in her eyes.

“Alpha,” she greeted softly.

“Tiara,” I said her name like it was a prayer.

She hesitated. “You look tired.”

I almost laughed. “You have no idea.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us felt charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.

Finally, she asked, “Why did you save me?”

The question hit harder than a blade.

I should have lied. Should have said it was my duty, that no rogue deserves to die alone on our land. But the truth clawed its way up my throat before I could stop it.

“Because I couldn’t lose you again,” I said quietly.

Her brows knit together in confusion. “Again?”

I froze.

She tilted her head. “You said again. Have we met before?”

My heart pounded. My wolf’s voice rose in a desperate snarl inside me. Tell her. Tell her she’s yours.

But I couldn’t. Not yet.

I forced a smirk that didn’t reach my eyes. “You must’ve misheard me.”

She studied me for a long moment, her eyes searching my face for something, an answer, a truth, maybe a memory she couldn’t quite catch. Then she nodded slowly.

“Right,” she whispered, turning back to the fire.

I lingered a few seconds longer, then stepped back into the shadows, closing the door behind me before the weight of my lie could crush me completely.

But as I walked away, I heard her voice, soft, barely a whisper, but enough to stop me in my tracks.

“Then why,” she murmured, “do I feel like I already loved you once?”

I pressed a hand to my chest, where my wolf howled in pain.

Because you did, I wanted to say.

Because you were mine before fate took you away.

Because I would burn the world to remember you again.

But the words never left my mouth.

And so, I walked into the darkness, carrying the secret that would destroy us both.