"Nothing brings on jealousy like laughter." - Françoise Sagan
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Yaro's inked hand gently caresses Alia's cheek, fingers snaking into her silky brown hair. Alia's breath wavers when he leans closer, eyes on her lips as a heaviness fills his gaze. She can feel his warm breath on her skin, and she finds herself inching closer.
The corner of Yaro's lips quirks up, amused at the desire within her jade irises. The sounds of the training room dissolve into silence, as if he and Alia are the only ones in the room.
Alia's eyes flutter closed when Yaro's lips brush against her own. But he pulls back slightly, before she can truly taste him. Feel him. Her eyes open slightly as he whispers, "no feelings, remember?"
Nodding slowly, distractedly, Alia doesn't move her half-lidded gaze away from his lips. Her voice is as low as his when she whispers, "just kiss me already."
When a cold sensation grazes the side of his face exposed to the training hall, one thought races through Yaro's mind: I'm going to regret this. Yet he closes the distance between them, lips meeting Alia's with a level of intimacy that has her breath escaping.
As his lips move against her own, Alia finds herself sinking deeper and deeper, the need to cling to Yaro growing with every passing second. Her chest trembles at the desire that runs through her skin, but then a familiar warmth travels along her face for a brief, almost unnoticeable moment.
Alia opens her eyes when Yaro pulls away with a dazed expression that likely matches her own. Then he places his hands on his face, a small groan escaping his moist lips. "Shit," he mumbles. "I think I might want you."
Stunned, Alia stares at him. The only thing on her mind was the kiss they shared. Her second kiss. Then she realises the training room is quiet. Unnaturally quiet. But Yaro's words finally have meaning in her mind, and then her head is thrown back as she bursts into laughter.
Yaro covers his mouth with his hands in an attempt to muffle his own laughter, which makes Alia laugh even more.
"Enough," Liam hisses.
The pair freeze, noticing the tension that surrounds them. With furrowed brows, Alia turns to look at Liam.
But white eyes meet her own.
Standing barely a metre away, Valen stares down at the two wolves with his hands behind his back. He's dressed in all black, covered in the uniform of his Title. His expression is blank, unreadable, when his eyes scan the seated frame of the Warrior beside Alia.
Alia stands and Valen's eyes snap back to hers. A twinkle of darkness appears within them, but before she can stop herself, Alia smiles at him. It's become a habit, a greeting in a way. But her heart shakes with anxiety.
Yaro moves to kneel on one knee, fist pressed against his chest as he bows as a Warrior before his General. "General Valen."
Valen tilts his head slightly, assessing the male. "You may stand."
Yaro straightens, eyes meeting the powerful ones of the man who towers over everyone in the room. He swallows when Valen nods at him.
"Yaro Nikolaev," Valen murmurs, voice low. "One of my most promising Warriors."
Alia's eyes move between the two males. The compliment makes Alia excited for her friend. The friend she kissed.
Her smile falters.
"I do hope to see you succeed in the Trials."
Yaro bows his head, a flush covering his cheeks. "I appreciate your kind words, General."
Valen doesn't move, eyes digging deeper into the male's tatted skin. Then he turns his attention to Alia. "I need to speak with you."
Nodding, Alia's smile disappears completely when she peeks over at Liam who stands stiffly to the side.
Valen turns and the pair walk side by side to the double doors of the training room. Not one male dares to spare her a glance, which has Alia's chest tightening as she tries to peek over her shoulder at Yaro. But Valen's hand pushes one of the doors open for her, causing her attention to snap back to him. He remains looking straight ahead, and Alia walks past him into the reception area.
Wordlessly, he guides her to a stairwell where they walk up a few floors. After a while, Valen leads her into a hallway. Alia doesn't try to make conversation as she wonders why he's acting like this.
She doesn't like it.
Valen pushes a door open and motions for Alia to step inside. She does, arms wrapping around herself. Why does she feel so small?
A cramped office with a wooden desk and desktop computer is what they've walked into. Metal storage cabinets line some of the walls, and a large window lightens the room behind the desk. The shutter blinds are closed, blanketing the space in privacy.
The door closes and Valen leans against it, head lowered as he takes a deep breath. Alia faces him as she stands in the middle of the tight room. Her voice is quiet when she asks, "why have—"
"Is he your mate?"
Surprised, Alia's eyes meet Valen's darkening ones. His jaw is clenched as he crossed his arms.
"What?"
"Is he," he repeats, "your mate?"
"I—" Alia shakes her head slightly, eyes wide. "He told me he wasn't."
Valen tilts his head to the side. "Then why did you kiss him?"
Alia blinks. "Wha— why are you asking me this?"
Pushing himself away from the door, Valen walks past Alia and sits on the edge of the desk. She follows his every movement, swallowing when she finds herself standing in front of his knees. He leans his hands back on the desk as he assesses her.
"You touched me."
A line appears between Alia's brows, mouth parting as she grows insulted at the accusation. "No," she protests. "No, I didn't."
"But you did," he murmurs. "When I touched your face."
Alia takes a step back. "You're lying," she hesitates, doubt creeping into her words. "I wouldn't... I wouldn't do that to you."
Valen doesn't respond, opting to stare at her instead.
And then it hits her: large hands on her face, thumbs wiping away tears whilst Valen consoles her hours earlier. And her hands gripping his.
"You remember."
Refusing to meet his gaze, Alia suddenly feels fearful. Valen notices the change in her demeanour, and it results in a line forming between his brows.
"Are you going to punish me?" Her hands shake and she holds them to her chest. "Is that why I'm here?"
"Don't be ridiculous." Alia looks at him. "I'm not going to punish you for something you couldn't control."
"But... but I—"
"That isn't why I've brought you here." Valen moves off of the desk, stepping forward whilst Alia steps back. "If anything, I'm curious."
Back touching wood, Alia finds herself trapped between the door and Valen. She sucks in a breath at his proximity, jaw clenching when he places a hand next to her head. She feels like her teeth will shatter.
Leaning down, Valen's warm breath brushes against her ear, snaking down her neck as her entire body shivers. "I want to know," he whispers, "why your touch triggered not one of my memories."
He lifts his other hand and isolates a finger with a sharpened claw. Lightly, he trails it across her jaw. "Care to explain?"
A silent plea surfaces within Alia's eyes as she looks into Valen's greying ones. Weakly, she says, "how am I supposed to explain that?"
Her touch didn't affect him? How... why?
Maybe... maybe it was a one-time thing? Maybe it was because she was in a traumatic state so her hands didn't trigger anything? Maybe—
Valen's eyes harden and he grabs her face with his clawed hand, his strong hold angling her face to look up at him. He leans closer, and Alia exhales when she feels the warmth of his breath against her parted lips.
She should fear this. Fear him. But all she wants to do is kiss him. Deeply.
Eyes on her lips, Valen whispers, "was this your plan?" Alia shivers, an unrelenting need overtaking her soul. "To bewitch me? To get inside my head?
Bewitch him? Alia barely has time to register his words before he's looking into her eyes again. But her eyes widen when a flicker of gold appears within his white irises.
Valen pulls back, hand releasing her as he rubs his eyes with his fingertips. Valen turns towards the desk. "Get out."
Breathing heavily, Alia's face drops at his command. "What?"
He runs his hands through his hair, fingers momentarily gripping the black strands with white knuckles. "Leave," he grits. "Go back to your Warrior."
Alia shakes her head, a pain blossoming within her chest. "No."
Valen turns to her, eyes glacial. The normal white of his irises has Alia questioning if the gold she saw was a figment of her imagination. He moves towards her.
"I'm not leaving," Alia persists, pressing herself further against the door. "He's not mine."
A searing heat claws against the side of her neck, limbs aching at the sudden pressure shoved upon her body. Alia's face contorts into one of pain, a strangled gasp coming from her lips. She tries to bare her neck before her knees completely give out from under her, but the fire burns deeper. Eyes squeezed shut, Alia's mind focuses in on the overpowering weight that threatens to force her to the ground, and she quickly realises Valen's aura is on her. Suffocating her.
Veins protrude underneath Valen's eyes, irises stinging as he icily glares down at Alia. His voice is low. "Know your place when you speak to me."
And then he's gone.
Crouched down next to a female trainee, Yaro gives the girl advice on her sparring techniques, pointing out flaws that could cost her a Warrior's position in the Trials.
The moment Alia left, the male trainees turned to him, ready to pick a fight. But Yaro snarled at them in warning, a reminder of his rank above them. It's like their minds went to shit, obsessed over a female they desire being approached by a man who's above them in every sense of the word.
Their jealousy is a poison to their own well-being.
Yaro is the only Warrior in the training room, and he has been for weeks. Regardless of being Untitled alongside the other trainees, Yaro could kill every single one of them if he wanted to. Valen's Warrior training is brutal, relentless, and it's made him a better fighter in the past month than he ever was with General Floran.
One of the training room doors is shoved open and in storms Alia. She makes her way towards Yaro, smoothly avoiding sparring pairs as she crosses the busy floor.
Yaro's brows shoot up when Alia grabs his wrist, pulling him behind her as she takes him back to the wall they sat at. Crossing her arms and turning to face him, Alia looks determined when she says, "tell me how you know I'm not your Fated."
Mirroring her, Yaro presses his side against the wall, head tilted as he smirks. "They're staring again."
Turning her head to observe the room, Alia finds various males sneaking jealous glances at Yaro whilst they spar, some giving him dirty looks whilst they rest against walls or sit on the floor.
Alia scowls at them, a warning in her eyes. "Grow the fuck up."
In an instant, they turn their heads away, embarrassment flushing their skin. They don't attempt to look in Yaro's direction again. Alia doesn't want a coward of a man who would rather sulk and glare at another instead of approaching her himself. It's pathetic.
Yaro sighs, staring off to the upper levels where wolves strengthen their bodies with weights and cardio machines. "Should I kiss you again to piss them off?"
Alia fights back a smile, the lingering pain in her heart reminding her of what happened in the office.
Yaro notices her solemn demeanour, concern appearing on his features. "What happened?"
Shaking her head, Alia repeats herself. "Tell me how you know." She doesn't want to talk about it. Not now. Not when the pain is still fresh.
"It's different for everyone," he explains, deciding to oblige her silent request for a change in topic. "For some, it's touch, an act of kindness, an act of providing or protecting, or even a kiss."
Yaro flashes his canines in a mischievous grin, pointing between himself and Alia, who just rolls her eyes.
"But when it happens, it's like alarm bells go off." His hands raise between them, fingers opening to imitate flashing lights. "Mate. Mate. Mate. It's all you think about." He leans down, voice lowering. "And then the next thing you know, you're fucking."
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How have I managed to write 40 chapters???
Also 2 chapters in 2 days?? You all should be proud of me for feeding you.