Wolves of Betrayal

Chapter : 5. The shadows of fear..

Amara stared out the window of her room, her eyes tracing the silver edges of the moon as it hung in the night sky. The Nightshade Packhouse had a comforting warmth to it—a stark contrast to the cold, imposing walls of the Blood Moon Pack where she had spent most of her life. She should feel safer here, surrounded by Darius’s people, yet she couldn’t shake the anxiety that twisted her insides into tight knots. She knew that no place was ever truly safe, not as long as Killian was out there.

The room Darius had given her was simple but inviting, with a soft bed covered in thick furs and a wooden dresser that bore a few of her meager belongings. The scent of fresh pine and the distant sound of wolves howling in the woods beyond her window were reminders that she was still among her kind. Yet, she felt like an outsider—a ghost drifting through a life that didn’t belong to her.

The Nightshade wolves had welcomed her with a cautious kindness. She was not like them; she was a wolfless omega, broken and marked by the brutality of Killian's possessive wrath. She kept to herself, slipping silently through the halls like a shadow, careful not to attract too much attention. The scars on her body, both seen and unseen, were reminders of what happened when she trusted too easily.

Tonight, the shadows seemed longer, stretching across the floor like dark fingers trying to pull her under. The moonlight cut through them, casting a faint glow that made her feel a little less alone. But the silence in her room was deafening. It was the kind of silence that made her skin crawl, that made her hear the phantom whispers of her past, and she couldn’t escape it.

She turned away from the window, wrapping her arms around herself. She had been in the Nightshade Pack for several weeks now, and though the days passed slowly, she was beginning to learn the rhythm of this new life. Darius had offered her sanctuary, but she knew that nothing came without a price. The weight of his gaze, steady and unwavering, told her that he was waiting for something—something more than just her trust. She sensed his desire to heal her, to protect her, and perhaps even to love her. But how could she give him that when she didn’t even trust herself anymore?

A soft knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. Her heart jumped, and her breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she was back in the Blood Moon Packhouse, expecting Killian to burst in, his stormy gray eyes filled with that dark, possessive fury. But then she heard his voice—Darius’s voice—calm and steady, breaking through her panic like a ray of light piercing the clouds.

“Amara? It’s me, Darius.”

She exhaled a shaky breath and crossed the room, hesitating for a moment before opening the door. Darius stood there, his broad shoulders filling the doorway, his expression soft but serious. His presence was a strange comfort, like the weight of a heavy blanket on a cold night.

“May I come in?” he asked, his voice gentle, as if he were speaking to a wounded animal.

Amara nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. Darius moved with the grace of a seasoned Alpha, every step purposeful, every movement measured. His blue eyes flickered to her face, searching for something she wasn’t sure she could give him.

“I wanted to see how you were doing,” he said, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. There was a tenderness in his gaze, a quiet strength that contrasted with the wild, volatile energy she was used to seeing in Killian.

“I’m fine,” she replied, though her voice betrayed her nerves. She looked down at her feet, unable to meet his eyes. “I’m still getting used to… everything.”

Darius nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “I know it’s a lot to take in. This pack… it’s different from what you’re used to.”

Different was an understatement. The Nightshade wolves were not like the Blood Moon wolves, who thrived on dominance and fear. Here, she had seen something she hadn’t seen in a long time—trust. The pack members spoke to one another as equals, their conversations punctuated by laughter and genuine concern. It was foreign to her, unsettling even.

“Everyone’s been kind,” she said quietly, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her shirt. “But I still feel like… I don’t belong.”

Darius took a step closer, his eyes never leaving her face. “You belong here, Amara. No matter what happened before, you’re one of us now.”

His words were meant to reassure her, but they only made her stomach twist with guilt. She didn’t want to be a burden on his pack, didn’t want to bring her darkness into their light. And yet, here she was, haunted by the ghost of her past, by Killian’s voice whispering in her ear that she would never be free of him.

“I’m afraid,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m afraid of what he’ll do if he finds me here. I’m afraid that I’ll bring danger to your pack.”

Darius’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening. “You don’t need to worry about that. If Killian comes, we’ll be ready for him.”

“But he won’t stop,” she continued, her voice breaking. “He’ll never stop.”

There was a long pause as Darius considered her words. His eyes softened, and he took another step closer until he was standing right in front of her. “And neither will I,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I won’t stop protecting you. I won’t stop fighting for you.”

Amara felt something break inside her—a wall she had built to keep everyone out, to protect herself from being hurt again. She had been so afraid, so certain that opening herself up would only lead to more pain. But Darius… he was different. His strength wasn’t about power or control; it was about compassion and understanding. And that terrified her more than anything.

“Why?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Why are you doing this for me?”

Darius reached out, his hand brushing against her cheek with a tenderness that took her breath away. “Because you deserve to feel safe, Amara. You deserve to be free.”

She closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. She had spent so long being someone else’s possession, someone else’s prisoner, that she had forgotten what it felt like to be free. And for the first time in a long time, she felt the tiniest flicker of hope.

Darius’s hand remained on her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away her tear. “You’re not alone anymore,” he murmured, his voice like a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. “You have me, and you have this pack. We’re not going anywhere.”

For a moment, Amara allowed herself to believe him. She allowed herself to lean into his touch, to feel the warmth of his hand against her skin, to imagine a life where she wasn’t constantly looking over her shoulder. She had lost so much, but maybe… maybe there was something left to gain.

Darius stepped back slightly, giving her space to breathe. “I’ll leave you to rest,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “But if you need anything, anything at all, I’m right here.”

She nodded, her throat too tight with emotion to speak. As he turned to leave, she found herself reaching out, her fingers brushing against his arm. “Darius…”

He paused, turning back to her, his eyes full of concern. “Yes?”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “For everything.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, and for the first time since she had met him, she saw a glimmer of something in his eyes—something that looked like hope. “You don’t need to thank me, Amara. Just… take care of yourself. And remember, you’re not alone.”

With that, he left, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Amara stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know what to make of the feelings swirling inside her—the fear, the confusion, the flicker of warmth that had been absent for so long. She wanted to trust him, wanted to believe that she could be safe here, but the scars of her past were deep, and they weren’t so easily healed.

She turned back to the window, her eyes searching the dark woods beyond the packhouse. Somewhere out there, Killian was waiting. She could feel it in her bones, a gnawing dread that he would come for her, that he would never let her go. His obsession had become her nightmare, and she knew that the peace she felt here was fragile, like a glass teetering on the edge of a table.

But for now, she would try to hold on to that fragile peace. She would try to trust Darius, to believe in the sanctuary he had offered her. And maybe, just maybe, she would find a way to heal.

As the moon climbed higher in the sky, Amara lay down on her bed, pulling the covers around her like a shield against the

darkness. She closed her eyes, her mind drifting into the realm of dreams where Killian’s voice was a distant echo, and Darius’s touch was a comforting anchor. For the first time in a long time, she felt the pull of sleep, and she let herself fall, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the nightmares wouldn’t find her tonight.