Falling For The Demon Wolf-Chapter 24: Unspoken

The scent of the kitchen still clung to my skin as I followed Inara through the winding hallways of the pack house. It was strange how easily I had been roped into this place, made to serve creatures that would have torn me apart had Zain not claimed me as his prisoner. Or something worse.

"I still don’t get it," I muttered, glancing at Inara as we walked. "Why are some of the wolves eating scraps like starved strays? Shouldn’t an Alpha as powerful as yours be able to feed his people properly?"

Inara’s expression flickered, something unreadable passing through her eyes. "Not all wolves are equal," she said after a pause. "The ones you saw in the lower halls—those are the forsaken. Wolves without rank, without a purpose. Cast out but kept alive, just barely. Zain lets them live, but they are no more than ghosts in this pack."

"Why?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

She hesitated. "Some are criminals who have been stripped of their titles. Some are weak-born wolves who never found their strength. In our world, the strong lead, and the weak... well, they survive however they can."

A chill ran down my spine. I had seen the way those wolves had devoured the scraps, their eyes hollow, their ribs visible beneath their pelts. How different was I from them? A human among beasts, trapped in a place where power dictated everything.

We passed a large arched doorway, and my attention shifted as I caught sight of someone familiar.

Cian.

The Beta who had caught me in the woods, the one who had dragged me before Zain like a prize. He stood near the training grounds, his sharp gaze flicking toward us the moment we stepped into view.

"Well, well," he drawled, crossing his arms as he looked me over. "The little hunter playing servant now? How does it feel to be on the other side of the leash?"

I stiffened, heat rising in my cheeks. "Go to hell."

He smirked. "Feisty. I’d be careful with that tongue if I were you."

Inara sighed, stepping between us. "Knock it off, Cian. She’s just doing what she has to."

"Is that what you think?" he mused, his gaze locking onto mine. "Tell me, human, how long before you try to run again?"

I lifted my chin, refusing to let him see the doubt creeping into my bones. "Why? You waiting for another chance to chase me down like a dog?"

Gerald chuckled, low and amused. "You wouldn’t make it past the gates this time."

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver down my spine. There was an unspoken warning in his tone, something that told me that whatever game I thought I was playing, I was already losing.

"Come on," Inara muttered, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward.

I let her, but as we moved deeper into the pack house, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my every move was being watched.

Not just by Zain.

By something—or someone—else.

And that terrified me more than anything.

The further Inara led me, the more I realized how little I knew about this place. I had seen the dining hall, the kitchens, and Zain’s throne room—if that’s what it even was—but there was so much more hidden within the walls of the pack house.

We passed through another corridor, this one lined with tall windows that let in the glow of the late afternoon sun. Outside, wolves in their shifted forms roamed freely, some lounging under trees, others wrestling in the dirt.

I watched them for a moment, my fingers tightening at my sides.

It didn’t sit right with me. The ones in the woods—the ones I had been sent to feed—had been nothing like this. They had been starved, desperate. And yet, here, the pack thrived.

"Something on your mind?" Inara asked.

I hesitated before speaking. "Why are some of the wolves eating scraps while the rest of you dine on fresh meat?"

Inara stilled.

For a second, I thought she wouldn’t answer, but then she sighed, shaking her head. "You ask too many questions."

I frowned. "That wasn’t an answer."

"It’s not something you need to worry about."

I stopped walking. "They looked abandoned."

Inara turned to face me fully, her expression unreadable. "That’s because they are."

The weight of her words settled in my chest like a stone.

Before I could ask more, she started walking again, clearly done with the conversation. I wanted to push—demand answers—but I knew better than to test her patience when she was already doing me a favor by showing me around.

For now, I let it go.

We continued through the hallways until we reached another set of doors, these ones opening into a wide, open training ground. Unlike the rest of the pack house, which was built of thick stone, this space was surrounded by wooden fencing, allowing fresh air and sunlight to pour in.

Wolves and warriors sparred in the center of the yard, their movements swift and brutal. I watched as one fighter—a towering man with scars across his chest—was knocked flat onto his back, groaning as his opponent stepped over him.

A sharp whistle rang through the air.

"Enough," a deep voice commanded.

I turned toward the source, and my breath caught.

Cian.

Of course.

The Beta stood near the center of the training ground, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes scanning the fighters like a predator watching its prey.

When his gaze landed on me, something in his expression shifted—curiosity laced with something I couldn’t quite place.

Inara leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Careful. He likes to play with his food."

I swallowed hard, keeping my expression neutral as Cian started toward us.

"Didn’t expect to see you here, human," he said smoothly. "Getting bored of the kitchens already?"

"I needed air," I replied.

His smirk widened. "So you decided to wander into a den of wolves? Bold."

I didn’t respond. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

His gaze swept over me, assessing. Then, without warning, he tossed a wooden practice sword at my feet.

I frowned. "What’s this?"

"A test," he said simply.

I looked up at him, suspicion curling in my gut. "I’m not a wolf."

"No," he agreed. "But you’re a hunter, aren’t you?"

The way he said it made my blood run cold.

Slowly, I bent down, fingers curling around the hilt of the wooden blade.

I had a feeling that whatever happened next, I wouldn’t like it.

I gripped the wooden sword, its weight unfamiliar but not unwelcome. It had been weeks since I’d held a weapon, and even though this was just a training tool, the feel of it in my hands sent a strange sense of control rushing through me.

Cian watched me, his smirk unwavering. Around us, the other wolves had started to take notice, their sparring slowing as they turned their attention toward the Beta and the human girl foolish enough to pick up a blade.

"Come on, then," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Show me what a hunter can do."

I hesitated.

This was a test, but not just of strength. Cian wanted to see how I fought, how I moved. He wanted to know if I was a threat.

Or if I was prey.

My grip tightened.

I lunged.

Cian sidestepped effortlessly, his movements sharp and precise, like he had anticipated my attack before I even made it. I barely had time to adjust before he struck, his wooden sword sweeping toward my side.

I twisted, barely dodging, but I wasn’t fast enough. His blade clipped my ribs, knocking the air from my lungs.

I staggered back, panting.

Laughter rippled through the watching wolves.

"Too slow," Cian taunted. "Again."

My jaw clenched.

I moved faster this time, aiming high before switching at the last second, sweeping low. It was a hunter’s trick—fake an obvious attack, then strike where they least expected.

But Cian wasn’t just anyone.

He blocked with almost lazy precision, catching my blade before spinning me around and kicking the back of my knee. My leg buckled, and I hit the dirt hard, the sword slipping from my grasp.

More laughter.

I braced myself on my hands, breathing heavily. The sting of failure burned, but more than that—I was furious.

Cian crouched beside me, amusement dancing in his eyes. "That all you got, hunter?"

I met his gaze, my body trembling with exhaustion and anger. "Give me a real sword, and I’ll show you."

The air in the training ground shifted.

For a second, Cian didn’t say anything. Then his smirk widened.

"I like you," he mused, standing back up. "You’re stupid, but you’ve got spirit."

I clenched my fists.

"Enough," a voice cut through the tension.

I turned to see Inara watching, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. "You’ve had your fun, Cian."

The Beta sighed dramatically. "Fine. We’ll continue another time."

Like hell we would.

But I didn’t argue as Inara pulled me up, steadying me when my legs nearly gave out.

As she led me away, I could still feel Cian’s gaze on my back.

And I had a feeling he wasn’t done testing me yet.