Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 54: Kind Stalker

Chapter 54: Kind Stalker

ADRIAN’S P.O.V.

It had been two weeks. Two agonizing weeks since Teresa, in that quiet, graceful way of hers, had asked me—no, gently requested me—to "respect her personal space." Her words had been polite, almost delicate, and yet they’d cut right through me. And here I was now, a helpless fool, standing in my dimly lit living room, carefully assembling a gift basket filled with more prenatal vitamins, free pretty dresses and sweaters—all thoughtful, subtle things that might ease her days. The absurdity of it all hit me like a cold wave; hovering at the edges of her life, present but unseen, giving without being able to show myself. It was maddening, like trying to catch smoke, but somehow, I couldn’t stop.

I ran my fingers over the large ribbon I’d smoothed onto the basket, adjusting it over and over as if it was some delicate vase, when Brian walked in. His expression was tense, something unsettled simmering behind his eyes.

"Adrian," he began, his tone tight, loaded with urgency. "We’ve had reports... werewolves have been sighted numerous times near town. They might be here for Teresa. The coven... well, they’re getting anxious about her."

The words pulled me out of my thoughts, my gaze snapping to him. I felt a flicker of anger—hot and sharp—curling through me. "Anxious? About her?" My voice was low, edged with something cold and unyielding.

Brian hesitated, his eyes dropping before meeting mine again. "Yes. There’s talk of... sending her away. For everyone’s safety."

Something inside me twisted. The calm restraint I usually wore felt thin, almost brittle. I took a slow breath, but my words came out harder than I’d intended, quiet and edged in steel. "Brian, tell the coven that if any harm comes to Teresa, I will personally see to their... removal... permanently."

His face paled, a flicker of shock passing through his eyes; he was one of my closest friends but even he knew better than to argue. He gave a short, silent nod, then slipped from the room, leaving me on my own once again.

When he’d gone, I looked down at the basket again, my hands working almost on their own as I finished it. The little items felt small, inadequate somehow, but they were all I had to offer her right now. When it was ready, I picked it up and slipped out into the night, moving through the shadows until I reached her doorstep.

Carefully, as quietly as I could manage, I set the basket down on her doorstep, retreating to the cover of the trees. I knew she’d come out soon; she always did, even this late. Part of me knew I should leave, disappear into the night and not look back. But then the door creaked open, and there she was, peering into the shadows, that same curious look softening her face.

Teresa’s eyes scanned the yard, and my excitement grew, my body aching with the urge to step forward, to close the space between us. Just once, I wanted her to know, to truly see me. But instead, I held my ground, hidden, my hands clenched at my sides. She picked up the basket, her fingers brushing over the ribbon, and after a long, lingering look around, she went back inside.

I lingered around her house like the silent, unseen stalker I’d become, listening to the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat and that of her unborn children. For a man who was without a beating heart, it was quite captivating. The soft, steady sounds drew me in, anchoring me to this spot beneath the stars until I realized, with a hint of shame, that I’d spent the entire night watching over her.

As dawn broke and sunlight spilled over the world, I settled on a high branch of an old tree, letting the morning light warm the nonexistent chill that had settled into my bones. Yet even with the new day stretching out before me, I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

A little while later, Teresa stepped outside, the brightness of morning framing her like a soft halo. She moved gracefully down the street, each step light and fluid, and I watched her, captivated, as if seeing her for the first time. Without a second thought, I moved after her, keeping just enough distance to stay hidden, watching as she made her way toward town. She eventually reached the mall, her small form nearly swallowed by the crowd as she moved from shop to shop, picking up groceries.

She was struggling with her bags, the weight almost too much for her slender arms, and everything in me wanted to rush forward, to help her, to ease even just a fraction of her burdens. But her words, respect her space, echoed in my head, a reminder that kept me rooted to the spot, despite the urge clawing at me.

Instead, I drifted into a nearby boutique, positioning myself where she’d catch sight of me if she needed help. It didn’t take long. Her gaze landed on me, a flicker of surprise and something warmer lighting her face, and I felt a tug of a smile rise to my lips.

"Adrian, hey!" she called, her voice a little too bright, that tone that always gave her away. There was something painfully endearing about the way she stood there, clutching her bags, as if seeing me had both caught her off guard and reassured her all at once.

I nodded, keeping my voice gentle, measured. "Teresa. It’s good to see you."

For a second, her face softened, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she glanced away, as if gathering her thoughts. "So," she began, her fingers fiddling with the handles of her bags, "I, uh, started noticing these little... things on my doorstep. Thoughtful things, actually. A blanket, herbal teas... vitamins." Her gaze lifted to meet mine, a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. "No notes, just... left there in the mornings. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?"

I gave her a faint smile, the kind that hinted at answers without really giving them. "Teresa, if I were leaving gifts, you’d know. I’m not much for hiding in the shadows."

She blinked, and for a heartbeat, there was something almost vulnerable in her expression, a touch of disappointment that she couldn’t quite hide. "Oh. Right."

We stood there, the silence stretching, something unspoken lingering between us, and I could feel it—a warmth, a longing I could barely contain. I held her gaze, searching her face, trying to read the emotions that flickered through her eyes. Finally, I broke the silence, my voice quiet, softer than I’d meant. "It’s good that someone’s looking out for you. They seem to know you well."

The words felt like a confession, hanging in the air between us, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a fragile hope, a possibility lingering just out of reach.

"Yeah... I guess so," she murmured, her voice barely audible, almost as if she were saying it to herself.

I nodded, giving her a small, respectful bow of my head. But as I turned to leave, my gaze drifted to the bags in her hands, and for a second, I almost offered to carry them, to ease her load. But I stopped, the unspoken boundary between us settling like a weight.

And with that, I slipped into the crowd, leaving her standing there, hoping she felt the unspoken promise in my gaze, even as the distance between us grew again.

Two hours later, I was sulking atop a tree, brooding like a cliché vampire. Why was I here, sitting in the shadows, obsessing over someone who clearly didn’t need me? She was strong, resilient, so stubbornly independent. And yet... I couldn’t seem to stay away. Why did she have such a strong hold on me?

My self-pity was interrupted by a cry—a desperate scream that sent a chill down my spine. My senses sharpened instantly. It was Teresa’s voice.

"Help! Someone please help!"

In a flash, I was on the ground, sprinting toward her home, legs moving like a blur. And then, clear as day, I heard her again.

"Adrian!"

I’d never pushed my vampire speed to its limits like this before. The moment I caught sight of her house through the shadows, my stomach twisted—flames leapt at the windows, casting an eerie, flickering glow that painted the afternoon in shades of gray and orange. Smoke billowed thickly into the air, a grim signal of danger. Her home was engulfed in fire.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I sprinted to the front door and drove my foot against it with all the force I had, sending it crashing into many pieces. I stepped inside, my eyes darting frantically, my mind racing with a mixture of fear and desperation. And then I saw her—standing amidst the chaos, her face illuminated by the fierce glow, her wide brown eyes locking onto mine as if she’d just seen a hallucination.

"Adrian?" she whispered, her voice trembling, fragile.

"Teresa," I breathed, fighting to keep my tone steady, to calm the storm inside me. I took a step forward, forcing a bit of levity into my voice. "I thought I told you not to set the place on fire without inviting me first."

Her lips quivered before breaking into a laugh—a short, hysterical sound that was both relieving and heartbreaking. "I... didn’t exactly plan this," she managed, her voice a shaky whisper.

"Always full of surprises, aren’t you?" I replied with a wry smile, though I could hear her heart pounding against her chest. "Let’s get you out of here before you make any more."

She took a hesitant step toward me, but the floor groaned under her weight, a chilling creak that spoke of its impending collapse. I didn’t hesitate; in an instant, I was by her side, sweeping her up into my arms as a section of the ceiling crashed down behind us, sending embers scattering into the air like fireflies.

"Adrian!" she gasped, clinging to me, her grip tight and desperate. Her breath brushed warm against my neck as I maneuvered us through the heat and smoke, my focus locked solely on getting her to safety.

"Hold on to me," I murmured, my voice steady, a promise I intended to keep as I carried her out of the fiery chaos and into the cool embrace of the afternoon.

Once we were clear of the flames, I set her down gently on the grass, my eyes searching her face with a fervor I couldn’t hide. "Are you hurt?" I asked, my voice soft, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

She shook her head, her eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears, her expression a blend of shock and gratitude. "No... but thank you, Adrian. I... I don’t know what I would have done without you."

A soft, relieved smile broke through my worry as I reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. "You don’t have to think about that, Teresa. I’ll always be here for you—whether you like it or not."

Her laughter was quieter this time, the edge of fear replaced by something warmer, something softer that made my heart ache. "Maybe... maybe I don’t mind it as much as I thought."

The words sparked a warmth in me that no fire could ever match, a feeling that spread like a gentle flame. "Good. Because I can be pretty persistent," I replied with a grin, letting the hint of mischief in my voice show.

Her chuckle was soft, the tension of the situation slowly dissolving between us as she leaned into my embrace, her fingers still clutching onto me as if letting go would break the moment. And as I wrapped my arms around her, feeling her heartbeat steady against mine, I knew with every fiber of my being that I would protect her—even if it meant bending every rule and defying every warning.