LAYLA'S POV
I stand frozen.
I can't breathe. I can't think. My heart is pounding so loud it echoes in my ears.
Kieran is here.
And not just here—he's fresh out of the shower. He has water still dripping down his sculpted chest. His towel is slung low on his hips, and his unreadable gaze is fixed entirely on me.
I want the floor to swallow me whole.
His scent—already overwhelming—is ten times stronger now. Woodsy, dark, masculine. It wraps around me like a rope I can't escape.
He takes a step closer, and my hands tighten around the hoodie I was just caught sniffing like a lovesick fool.
I open my mouth to speak—to explain, to apologize, to run—but I can't get a single word out.
Then he says it.
His voice is deep and low.
"You like my scent that much?" he asks me.
I die a little inside.
I want to vanish. Just fade into the wall and pretend none of this is happening. But I can't look away. He's standing there like some ethereal being. Wet strands of dark hair fall into his eyes. Water traces the lines of his abs like they're made of stone. His towel clings dangerously low on his hips.
I swallow hard, unable to respond.
He sees my panic and instead of stepping back like a normal person, he steps closer.
Too close.
I back into the wardrobe behind me. My breath catches as I feel the hard wood at my back. My fingers brush the handle, looking for an escape.
I'm trapped.
But then he pins me there. Not forcefully. Not aggressively. Just…deliberately. His hand lands beside my head, palm flat against the wardrobe. His other hand hovers inches from my waist, not touching—just there, and yet it burns.
His body isn't fully touching mine, but I can feel the heat. The intensity. The raw tension between us crackling like electricity.
My chest rises and falls too quickly. I don't know what to say.
Kieran leans in slightly. His expression is unreadable.
"I've seen how you look at me," he murmurs.
I blink, stunned.
"I've heard how your heart races every time I'm near." He whispers.
My mouth opens to deny it, but I can't. Because he's right. Every time he walks into a room, my heart feels like it's trying to claw its way out of my chest.
Still, I try. "I-I don't—"
But my voice betrays me. My stammering, shaking voice gives me away.
So does my body.
My pulse is wild. My hands tremble. My wolf is practically panting inside me.
Kieran leans in, close enough that his breath brushes the shell of my ear.
"Do you know how much I want you?" he whispers in my ear. The action makes me shiver.
I gasp.
Those words—they shatter something inside me.
It's like the walls I've carefully built around my heart all come crumbling down in an instant. And then… I don't know who moves first.
His lips crash into mine.
The kiss is sudden, fierce, overwhelming.
It's hungry—not just physically, but emotionally. There's something behind it. Something he's been holding back for too long. His lips claim mine with a desperate sort of control, like he's trying not to lose himself.
And I melt.
I melt into it completely, giving in. My hands rise to his chest, and I feel the damp skin under my palms. My wolf howls with joy inside me, tail wagging, practically singing. This—this—is what she's been craving.
Kieran kisses like a man unraveling.
Like someone who's tired of pretending not to feel.
His hands roam my sides, slowly, careful not to overstep. He doesn't grab or grope me. He treats me with passion. He holds, explores, touches me like I'm fragile but precious.
His mouth leaves mine just long enough to trail along my jaw, down to the hollow of my throat.
I moan softly. I already feel breathless and dizzy.
"Layla," he whispers. "Say stop. If you want me to, say stop."
But I don't want him to stop.
Everything in me screams to let this go further, to finally be wanted. Seen.
Still—
Reality crashes in hard. I have a job to do. If I don't check in now, I'll be in trouble. She might even punish me again.
Mrs. Corla.
The maids.
The time.
Panic spreads in my chest.
"I—I have to go," I gasp, placing a trembling hand on his chest. "They'll be looking for me. I was only assigned here for cleaning—if someone sees…"
He doesn't stop me.
His hand falls from the wardrobe, but his eyes are still on me.
It's unreadable again.
"Layla…"
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
And then I'm gone. Without another word, I rush out of his room. At this point, my legs are barely working.
I don't stop until I reach my room.
I shut the door, lean against it, and try to catch my breath.
My fingers drift to my mouth, touching the lips he kissed like they were something sacred. My whole body is trembling. I feel drunk, delirious, overwhelmed.
Was it real?
Did it mean something?
Or was it just heat—just lust?
My wolf whines inside me, but I can't answer her. I don't know. I wish I did.
I walk to my bed and sink down. My heart is still racing. My eyes fall on something beneath my pillow.
An envelope.
That wasn't there before.
I frown and pick it up cautiously. It's plain. No seal. No markings. The paper is rough, slightly crumpled. I open it slowly.
Inside is a single piece of paper.
Written in shaky handwriting are words that make my blood turn cold:
"Watch your back. Not everyone who touches you wants to love you. Some want to end you. Watch out for Ronan."
My hands tremble.
The paper slips from my fingers and falls to the floor. Who sent this? what does this mean?
I glance toward the window.
It's too quiet. The air feels… off. Heavy.
My chest tightens with a feeling I can't name. Not fear. Not yet. But something like it. Something darker.
Someone is watching me.
And suddenly, that kiss…
That moment of happiness…
Feels dangerously fragile.
Like something—or someone—is about to shatter it.