Chapter Seven

Andalia remained still, staring into those familiar green eyes that kept haunting her. She didn't move, didn't speak, or blink, while her hands remained clenched under the sheets beneath her.

The man who had brought her in stood up from the bed and bowed slightly. "Sorry for the inconvenience, Alpha, she's just..."

Grayson raised his hand to stop him. He straightened up, slipped his hand into his pocket, and took out a black handkerchief.

Andalia watched his movements. She flinched when he took a step closer and even shifted back slightly when he was just an arm's length away from her.

But he didn’t touch her. Instead, he placed the handkerchief on her palm and smiled slightly, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m glad nothing happened to you,” he continued. “When I heard my personal guard brought in a girl and her mother here, I was really worried.” He placed his hand on his chest and bowed. “I’ll take responsibility for everything, so please forgive us and accept our offer to help.”

Andalia finally managed to open her mouth. When she did, she only glanced at the man, who bobbed his head, urging her to speak.

Then she looked back at Grayson and clenched her fists tighter before saying, “It’s nothing, really.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

“Uh… uhm, well, I’m fine now and… you don’t need to worry about any—”

“Nonsense,” he cut her off almost immediately and straightened up. Grayson’s gaze never left her face as he called his guards in. He whispered to one, and the rest marched back outside, including the man who had come in.

Leaving just the two of them, he returned his focus to her.

Andalia’s pulse quickened when the door closed, leaving her alone with him. All she could think of was how and why he couldn’t recognize her, or maybe he was the wrong person.

'That couldn’t be possible,' She shook her head slowly and glanced back at his face. She still couldn’t remember how the man from her memories looked.

But she knew he had green eyes. She thought they were eyes so rare and beautiful, they seemed like liquid gold, more precious than emerald could ever describe.

Her face turned red at the thought, and she quickly raised her hand and tapped her cheeks. 'Geez… get yourself together, his eyes are scary, not beautiful…'

She trailed off when she looked at him again and realized he was staring at her.

Grayson’s presence seemed to fill the now small room, or so she thought, for someone as huge as him.

She almost felt pity that he had to stand in such a cramped space, but he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the room was spacious enough, it was all just in her head.

His height, his scent that forcefully overwhelmed her, mixed with the faint trace of cologne. Both were nice, and it got her wondering how someone so scary could be this… she couldn’t find a word to describe it.

But it was heavy and suffocating, the way he just stood there, looking at her.

Grayson finally opened his mouth after a long while. “You shouldn’t downplay what happened to you,” he said, his eyes searching hers as if he could pull out answers to his unspoken questions without effort. “In my pack, guests are protected. Especially those brought here by my own people.”

Andalia lowered her gaze, her thoughts clouded. She honestly didn’t want to meet him, that was the whole point of their running and hiding. She didn’t want to acknowledge that those green eyes had the power to dominate everyone and everything.

Not even her pack Alpha could go against him and now that he was here, there was no telling how long it would take the other one to find her.

If my luck is that bad, I bet they would even be friends, she thought with a soft, quiet laugh in her head.

Grayson, on the other hand, took a slow step closer to her, closing the gap between them. She could smell his scent even better now: his cologne, rich, clean, with a sweet musky aroma.

And then his natural spice smell, it almost seemed as though he had just walked out of a spice store in a restaurant. He stopped just by her side of the bed, and his voice softened.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re still pale. You should be resting, not worrying about anything else.”

“I’m fine,” Andalia murmured, though the ache in her body betrayed her words.

His brow furrowed slightly, as though unconvinced, but he didn’t push her further. Instead, he extended his hand toward her, not to touch, but as an unspoken gesture for her to follow. “Come. I’ll take you to see your mother. I ordered that she be moved to a private room.”

The moment the words left his mouth, a part of her felt relieved. Her heart still pounded with unease, but the fear of not knowing her mother’s condition was far worse. Slowly, she swung her legs over the bed, despite her body protesting every movement.

Grayson stepped closer, ready to support her without forcing contact. She hesitated, then accepted the small help he offered, keeping her distance even as she leaned just enough to steady herself.

Then they left the room together, down the narrow but clean hallway, with Andalia resting slightly against his arm. Every few steps, Grayson would feel her gaze shift to him, as if she were studying him.

When he looked, she would avert her gaze almost immediately and mutter something he couldn’t quite hear. Still, that didn’t change the fact he found her weirdly familiar.

But then, he had met a lot of people, and she might be one of those who just happened to be a passing encounter or something.

Then again, he found her quite interesting.

Andalia kept her eyes forward, determined not to let him notice how much her hands trembled beneath the long sleeves of the hospital gown.

Finally, they reached another door at the end of the hall. Grayson paused, his hand resting on the handle, and glanced down at her with something that almost resembled reassurance.

“She’s inside,” he said quietly.

Andalia’s breath caught as he pushed the door open, revealing the still form of her mother resting peacefully on the bed.