Absence of mind

Kaiden's POV

I watched as she nodded her head and her expression remained guarded.


"Yes. Sometimes it's nice to get away from the noise." She said vaguely.

There was an undercurrent in her words, a hidden meaning that I couldn't ignore.

Was she referring to the pack house? The people? Or maybe... me? The thought stung more than I wanted to admit.


I stepped closer and lowered my voice.

"Lilian, if something's bothering you, you can tell me." I told her.

She looked away, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"There's nothing to tell, Kaiden. I just needed some space."


The distance between us felt wider than the physical space.

I wanted to bridge it, to understand what was going on in her head. But I didn't know how.

I had been raised to maintain a certain detachment, to keep my emotions in check.

Yet with Lilian, everything felt different, more raw, more real.

"Is this about what happened earlier?" I asked, unable to keep the concern out of my voice. "In my chambers?"


Her eyes snapped back to mine, a flash of something like pain crossing her face.


"No," she said quickly, almost too quickly.

"That has nothing to do with it."

But I knew better. There was some sort of tension in her, a barely concealed anger that seemed to simmer just below the surface.

And I couldn't help but feel responsible.

"Lilian, I'm sorry if I hurt you," I began, searching for the right words. "I didn't mean to—"

She cut me off, her voice firm.

"It's fine, Kaiden. Really. You don't have to explain anything to me." She maintained.

The way she said it, so dismissively, sent a pang of frustration through me. Why was she shutting me out? I took a deep breath, trying to keep my composure. "I want to explain," I insisted. "Because I don't want there to be any misunderstandings."


She crossed her arms over her chest, a defensive posture that only made me feel more on edge. "What is there to misunderstand?" she asked, her tone challenging. "You're an Alpha, We both know our places."


Her words felt like a slap, stark and cold.

The truth of them was undeniable, yet it felt wrong, incomplete. "It's not that simple," I said, shaking my head. "I... I don't want to hurt you, Lilian."


She looked at me for a long moment, her gaze piercing.


Then she sighed, a heavy sound that seemed to carry all the weight of the world.

"I know," she said softly. "But sometimes, things just... hurt anyway."


The vulnerability in her voice tugged at something deep inside me. I wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but I held back, afraid that I would only make things worse.


We stood there in silence, the night wrapping around us like a cloak.


It was a silence filled with unspoken words, with questions I didn't know how to ask and answer, I wasn't sure I wanted to hear.

After what felt like an eternity, Lilian spoke again, her voice steadier.


"I'm fine, Kaiden. Really. Just... let me have this night."


I nodded, though the frustration and confusion gnawed at me. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here," I offered, though I knew how hollow the words might sound.


She gave me a small, sad smile. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.


And with that, she turned and walked away, her figure soon swallowed by the shadows.

I watched her go, a sinking feeling settling in my chest.

I wanted to follow her, to understand what was going on in her mind, to fix whatever I had broken.

But I knew I couldn't. Not without risking even more damage.


As I stood there, alone in the dark, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had somehow failed her.

That I had failed us both. The kiss, the dismissal, the confusion—it all swirled together, a chaotic mess of emotions that left me reeling.

Lilian was right; we both knew our places. But that knowledge did little to ease the ache of knowing that those places were worlds apart.


I turned back towards the pack house, my steps heavy. The night felt colder now, the chill seeping into my bones.

As I walked, I couldn't help but replay our conversation in my mind, searching for clues, for some way to understand what had gone wrong.


But all I found were more questions, more uncertainty.


By the time I reached the pack house, the lights had dimmed, signaling that most of the pack members had retired for the night.

I paused at the entrance, glancing back at the darkened path where Lilian had disappeared.

The night was still, the forest quiet, but inside me, a storm raged.


I wanted to protect her, to keep her safe from whatever shadows lingered around her.

But how could I do that when I couldn't even protect her from my own confusion?


How could I help her when I was so tangled up in my own struggles?


I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

The weight of my responsibilities, the expectations, the boundaries—they all felt like chains, holding me back, keeping me from reaching out to the one person I wanted to understand.


The one person who, despite everything, had found a way into my heart.


As I headed inside, I resolved to keep my distance, to respect the lines that had been drawn between us.


But even as I made that decision, I knew it would be difficult. Lilian was a puzzle I couldn't ignore, a mystery that called to me in a way I couldn't explain.


And no matter how much I tried to deny it, I couldn't help but feel that our stories were more intertwined than either of us realized.


The pack house was quiet as I made my way to my room, the echo of my footsteps the only sound. But the silence did little to calm my mind. As I lay down in my bed, the events of the night played over and over in my head, a constant loop of what-ifs and could-have-beens.


I closed my eyes, trying to push the thoughts away, but they wouldn't leave me.


The image of Lilian's sad smile, the sound of her voice, the feel of her lips against mine—they haunted me, refusing to be ignored.


And as sleep finally claimed me, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far more complicated than either of us could have imagined.


The days dragged on with an uneasy calm, a strange limbo that hung over the pack house like a fog.

It had been days since the Alpha and Luna left on their journey, a diplomatic mission to a neighboring pack.

It was supposed to be a routine trip, a few days at most, but their absence had stretched longer than anyone anticipated.


The pack's daily life continued, but there was an undercurrent of anxiety that no one could ignore.


I stood by the large window in my office, looking out at the forest that bordered our territory.


The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

Normally, the view would have been calming, a reminder of the peace we had built and the strength we maintained.


But now, it felt like a backdrop to the growing tension that simmered just beneath the surface.


My father, the Alpha, was a capable leader, and my mother, the Luna, was a wise and compassionate figure.

Together, they were the pillars of our pack, the ones who kept everything in balance.

Their absence was a gaping void that everyone felt, even if they didn't voice it aloud. As the acting Alpha for their stead.