CHAPTER TWO: The Predators Gaze
593 Words
I could feel his eyes on me.
Even without turning back.
Even without seeing him.
I knew.
His gaze burned into my back—heavy, possessive, inescapable. It made every step harder, every breath sharper, every instinct inside me scream the same thing:
Run.
My feet moved faster, almost stumbling as I pushed through the crowd. Voices blurred around me, faces became shadows, but none of it mattered.
Because he was behind me.
I could feel it.
That power.
That presence.
That terrifying certainty.
Don’t look back.
If I looked, I would freeze.
And if I froze…
I was done.
Another wave of heat slammed into me.
I choked on a breath, grabbing onto the nearest wall for support as my body betrayed me again.
Not now.
Please not now.
“You’re running.”
The voice came from behind me.
Low.
Calm.
Dangerous.
I froze.
Slowly… against my will… I turned.
He stood only a few steps away now.
Too close.
Far too close.
Up close, he was worse.
Stronger.
Sharper.
His presence wrapped around me like chains, tightening with every second. His dark eyes dragged over me slowly, deliberately—taking in every detail, every reaction.
Every weakness.
“You shouldn’t run from me,” he said softly.
But there was no kindness in it.
Only warning.
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I forced out, stepping back again.
Lie.
We both knew it.
His lips curved slightly.
Not a smile.
Something darker.
“Your scent says otherwise.”
My heart dropped.
No.
No, no—
He stepped closer.
I stepped back.
Again.
Again.
Until my back hit the wall.
Trapped.
His hand lifted—slowly, deliberately—like he was giving me time to react.
But I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t think.
His fingers brushed just beneath my chin, tilting my face up toward his.
The contact sent a violent shiver through my entire body.
“Rare…” he murmured, his voice almost thoughtful.
His thumb grazed my jaw.
Too gentle.
Too dangerous.
“I’m not—” I started.
“Don’t lie to me.”
The softness vanished instantly.
His eyes darkened, his aura pressing down on me so hard my knees nearly gave out.
“I can smell it,” he continued, his voice dropping lower. “Your heat. Your fear.”
A pause.
Then—
“You’re an Omega.”
The word wrapped around my throat like a noose.
Panic exploded inside me.
I shoved against his chest with everything I had.
“Stay away from me!”
For a split second—
He didn’t move.
Then suddenly—
He stepped back.
Just like that.
The pressure disappeared.
The air returned.
The suffocating weight of his presence lifted.
I blinked.
Confused.
Disoriented.
He was… letting me go?
His gaze remained locked on mine, unreadable now. Calculating.
Like he was watching something unfold exactly as he expected.
“Run,” he said quietly.
I didn’t hesitate.
I turned and ran.
Faster than before.
Desperate.
Terrified.
But something felt wrong.
Because he didn’t follow.
No footsteps.
No pressure.
No overwhelming presence chasing me.
Nothing.
I slowed.
Just slightly.
Just enough to realize—
He wasn’t coming after me.
I glanced back.
He was still there.
Standing exactly where I left him.
Watching me.
Not angry.
Not rushed.
Not concerned.
Just… watching.
Like a hunter who had already marked his prey.
And knew it would come back.
My stomach twisted.
This wasn’t over.
Not even close.
Because that wasn’t mercy.
That was strategy.
- Writer
