Feral Instincts
When I stirred, the room was still. The low hum of the plane engines first reached my ears. My body felt surprisingly rested, and the exhaustion from earlier reduced to a faint ache. The blanket I didn’t remember pulling over myself rested snugly against my shoulders, providing warmth against the cool cabin air.
But something was off. A sharp, ragged inhale broke the stillness again. I definitely wasn't imagining it.
I sat up abruptly, my senses clearing out their sleepy fog to pay attention. Across the bed I lay on, Ethan was hunched over by the wall, his fingers clutching the edge of the armchair. His fingers were deep into the leather like he was holding on for dear life.
His broad shoulders trembled, muscles visibly strained beneath his black shirt. His breath came in slow uneven gasps, and despite the muted light, I could see a faint shimmer in his eyes. Not the usual stormy green but a wild, unnatural gold that pulsed like a heartbeat.
I gasped. “Ethan?” I called out in a hushed tone, sliding out of bed. My bare feet met the cold floor silently as I reached for him.
He didn’t respond. He simply moved further into the armchair seemingly to avoid me. His jaw was tightly clenched as though he was biting down whatever was hurting him. His knuckles whitened as he gripped the chair harder, prompting the metal in it to creak ominously.
“Ethan!” I called again, louder this time, stepping closer despite the warning tug in my chest.
His head jerked up, and for a fleeting second, his glowing gaze locked onto mine—feral, desperate, yet not as dangerous.
“Harlyn...“ he grunted my name and a warm breathless shiver ran down my back. I flushed without shame.
“Stay away” he rasped, his voice strained but achingly familiar, threaded with something I couldn’t quite name. But strangely, it really didn't sound like he wanted me away.
“That'll be a hard pass for me,” I rushed out. Instinct demanded I listen yet my natural fear pressed against my ribs, cold and familiar, urging me to comply. I was conflicted but the louder voice in my head insisted I stayed rooted.
Ignoring his plea, I took another step forward, heart pounding. “What's hurting?“ He was clearly in pain, struggling against something beyond his control. I couldn't bring myself to simply stand there and watch him.
“I can't leave you like this, should I call for help?” I asked with a heavy frown, though my voice trembled. I was still afraid after all and Abigail would probably know what to do.
He let out a shuddering breath, shoulders sagging slightly as though my defiance soothed something raw inside him. His fingers slackened their death grip on the chair. They continued to tremble but softer than the minute I found him.
“Is it passing?“ I tilted my head to look at him but I couldn't tell exactly what was happening.
So, without contemplating the idea further, I closed the distance between us and dropped to my knees before him. My hands hovered uncertainty as his eyes met mine. There was so much conflict in his gold-streaked gaze that left me dazzled.
I stared before finally resting gently on his clenched fists. His skin burned like fire beneath my touch. And to my surprise, his entire body jerked as though struck by lightning. He flinched away with a loud grunt.
“I'm sorry!“ I panicked pulling my hands to myself. My heart pounded louder at the idea that I'd made it worse for him.
But then his breathing steadied, his rigid posture loosening ever so slightly. The glowing intensity in his eyes dimmed slowly. He was obviously still on edge, yet suddenly calmer.
“What... what’s happening to you?” I whispered, barely able to breathe.
He didn’t answer immediately, his breathing slowing into something less frantic. His fingers twitched and I reached out of instinct to hold him again. This time he didn't flinch.
“It’s you,” he admitted hoarsely, his voice rough and reverent. “Your presence pulls me... in ways I can't say out loud Harlyn.”
I resisted the urge to purr at the sound of my name but my pulse quickened anyway. “What do you mean?”
His gaze lifted, gold still glinting like molten fire. There was something else in his irises. It was raw, unexplainable, and deeply vulnerable.
“Being near you...” His voice dropped, almost too tenderly. “...it just triggers a sort of...” he paused as if carefully picking his word, “reaction.“
My breath hitched. “reaction? I don’t understand,” I whispered, though part of me already knew this was far from anything normal.
His fingers shifted, curling gently around mine — not holding, just.anchoring. “I don't want to startle you with the knowledge.“
What knowledge? Was it bad? Was it me? Of course, it was me. Somehow everything had started happening because of me. The silence stretched, leaving too much space for doubt to seep in.
My mind reeled, recalling whispered rumors of rejected mates triggering hate in others because they'd defiled the blessing gifted to them. At least that's what some girls at school said. I never thought to believe it before but it did make some iota of sense.
Was that what it was? His wolf was tormenting him for being next to me? A weak rejected omega.
A lump formed in my throat. “Is this because of my rejection?” I forced the words out, my voice barely audible. “Is your wolf repulsed by me?”
His head snapped up, shock flashing across his features. “What?”
I bit my lower lip, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I’ve heard about it. When a wolf gets rejected, it can trigger some uncontrollable instincts in others to isolate them... like this.” My heart clenched. “Is that why—”
Before I could finish, Ethan’s hand moved swiftly, cradling my face with surprising tenderness. His touch was warm, grounding me in the storm of my spiraling thoughts.