Her Return As An Alpha

Chapter 26 : Hands Entwined In The Dark

The night pressed in around Liana like a suffocating blanket, heavy and stifling. She tossed and turned in her bed, trying in vain to escape the cacophony that emanated from the kitchen below. The raucous mocking laughter, breaking glasses, and off-key yells were all too familiar, the only difference was that they were fighting tonight rather than partying.

Normally, the thick wooden walls, enchanted long ago by her mother, would have kept the noise at bay. But it seemed that even the magic had its limits—or perhaps, like her, it was simply exhausted by their presence.

Frustration boiled within her, her blood pressure rising with every new burst of sound that shattered the night’s stillness. Liana buried her head beneath the pillow, trying to muffle the noise, but it was no use. She thought back to the cursed forest, the silence there had been cold and eerie, but at least it had been silent. Here, surrounded by her supposed family, she felt as though she was trapped in a nightmare she couldn’t wake from.

Just as she was about to scream into her pillow, something happened. A soft, lilting tune began to drift through the room, cutting through the chaos like a beam of light in the dark. The notes were delicate, cheerful; a folk song that twinkled with the joy of simpler times. Liana’s eyes snapped open, her irritation momentarily forgotten. She sat up, her heart pounding, and listened as the music floated in through the window.

Intrigued, Liana threw off the covers and moved to the French windows, flinging them open. The cool night air rushed in, carrying with it the scent of the garden below and the sound of the music, clearer now. She stepped out onto the balcony and froze, her breath catching in her throat.

There, sitting cross-legged on the hard wooden floor, was Lucian. His back was against the wall, his head slightly bowed as his long fingers moved deftly over a wooden flute. His turquoise eyes, normally so sharp and watchful, were soft and filled with mischief as they met hers.

Liana couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within her. She grabbed her robe and pulled it around her shoulders before joining him on the balcony. The night air was crisp, the stars above twinkling like diamonds scattered across a velvet sky. As she knelt before him, Lucian’s gaze never left hers, holding her in a moment that felt both eternal and fleeting.

She didn’t say a word, simply letting the music wash over her, carrying away the stress of the night. As the melody danced through the air, Liana began to sway, her body moving gently to the rhythm. She closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the song, the sound of the flute blending with the soft chirping of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze.

When the music finally came to an end, Liana slowly opened her eyes, feeling as though she had awakened from a dream. Lucian had set the flute down and was now leaning against the wall, his eyes still locked on hers. But there was something different in his gaze—something deeper, more intense. His usual playful demeanor had been replaced by a fervor that sent a shiver down her spine.

They didn’t speak. Words seemed unnecessary, even dangerous. Instead, they sat there in the silence, the night wrapping around them like a protective cloak. The world outside the balcony faded away, the distant sounds of her relatives’ clamour dulled to a distant hum. Here, in this moment, it was just the two of them, and the tension that simmered between them.

After what felt like an eternity, Lucian stood, breaking the spell only slightly. He extended a hand to her, his touch warm and steady. Liana took it without hesitation, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Together, they moved to the edge of the balcony, leaning against the stone barrier and staring out at the night.

The garden below was a symphony of life, the night creatures chirping and buzzing in the darkness. Fireflies flickered in the air, their tiny lights blinking in and out like stars fallen from the sky. Above them, the real stars shone brilliantly, their light casting a gentle glow over the world.

Liana was acutely aware of Lucian’s hand still holding hers, his fingers entwined with hers in a way that felt both comforting and thrilling. They stood there, side by side, their bodies close but not touching, the air between them charged with an electricity that neither dared to acknowledge.

They had always been careful, maintaining the boundaries of their friendship with an almost religious dedication. During the day, they were professional, partners in the truest sense of the word. But at night, when the world was quiet and the darkness offered a shield from reality, they found themselves drawn to each other in ways that neither could explain. Lucian had a way of appearing when she needed him most, offering solace without words, a presence that calmed her troubled soul.

Tonight was no different. Liana’s heart, so heavy just moments ago, now felt lighter, ignited by the simple act of being with him. She didn’t need to speak, to explain the turmoil inside her—he already knew. And that was enough.

The minutes stretched on, neither of them willing to break the silence, to shatter the fragile peace they had found. The night was starry and romantic, so much so that the sounds of her relatives’ drunken revelry faded to insignificance. The world was reduced to this balcony, this moment, and the unspoken connection between them.

Eventually, Lucian’s grip on her hand tightened ever so slightly, a subtle reminder of the line they were walking. Liana turned her head to look at him, her breath catching at the intensity in his eyes. For a moment, she thought he might say something, that he might cross that line they had both carefully maintained for so long. But instead, he simply smiled, a small, sad smile that spoke of understanding, of restraint.

And so they remained, standing side by side, their hands intertwined, staring out at the vast, starry sky. Neither of them spoke, knowing that to do so would risk breaking the delicate balance they had maintained. But in the quiet, in the unspoken words that hung in the air between them, there was a promise—a promise that, one day, they could indulge. But for now, this was enough.

Later that night, as Liana finally prepared to sleep, she noticed a heavy object tucked within the folds of her robe. Surprised, she turned on her bedside lamp, the soft glow illuminating her modest room, and carefully extracted a tightly wrapped package about the size of her fist. It bore the seal of the pack’s coven and was wrapped in the distinct style of the Ruling Council. Liana’s curiosity piqued as she recognized the significance of the markings—this wasn’t just any package; it had been prepared with care and intention.

Nestled beside the package was a small, crumpled parchment. Liana unfolded it with delicate fingers, her eyes lighting up as she recognized Lucian’s familiar handwriting. The note detailed the steps for using and activating a foul odor spell, its tone playfully instructive. As she read through the instructions, Liana couldn’t help but let out a soft, genuine laugh, the sound a rare release of tension that had been building for days.

She could vividly picture Lucian and the other council members huddled together, conspiring to create this outrageous method to repel her insufferable relatives. The thought of it filled her with warmth, a reminder that despite the burdens she carried, she had friends who understood her plight and were always ready to lift her spirits in the most unconventional ways.

"Those silky troublemakers," Liana muttered to herself, shaking her head with a fond smile. The idea of using the spell against her relatives tomorrow was both tempting and amusing. She could already imagine their confused and horrified expressions when the spell took effect, and the thought brought a mischievous glint to her eye.

Carefully, Liana placed the spell aside, treating it like a treasured gift. The mere thought of her friends’ playful support eased the weight on her shoulders. Feeling lighter and entertained by the possibilities that awaited her, she slipped under the covers, the soft sheets comforting against her skin.

As she lay back, her mind swirled with plans and laughter. The frustration of the day was replaced with anticipation and amusement, and she fell asleep with a small smile lingering on her lips, her heart a little lighter than before. And somewhere, deep in her core, butterflies took flight in the memory of emerald eyes.