Claimed by My Bully Alpha
Chapter 30
Aurora’s POV
After we finished, I took him to his room, pulling back the covers so he could crawl in. He watched me quietly as I tucked him in, his small hands gripping the blanket tightly.
‘Will he come tonight?” he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.
I hated that he had to ask that. I hated that he even had to think about it. But I refused to lie to him, so I just brushed his hair again and said, “Even if he does, he won’t be able to get to you, baby. I promise.”
His lips pressed together as he nodded, but I could see the fear still lingering in his eyes. I leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, murmuring. “Sleep tight, okay? I’ll be right outside.”
After locking his door, my hands lingered on the knob for a moment before I slowly backed away, my eyes burning with unshed tears. I couldn’t afford to cry now. Not when I had to be strong for Riley. Not when I had to make sure that even if our father came back–drunk, furious, looking for something to break- Riley would be safe.
I kept the candle glowing on the table, in case I needed to come downstairs in the middle of the night, so that the room wouldn’t be shrouded in darkness. I took another candle with me, so I could get some rest.
Three more days. Just three more days.
I just had to survive until then.
The house was silent, save for the occasional creak of the old wooden floors beneath my feet as I made my way up to the attic. It was my space–small, isolated, and away from everything else, but I had never minded that. It was my sanctuary, a place where I could escape, where I could breathe.
The air in the attic was stuffy, the heat of the day still trapped inside, pressing against my skin. I crossed the room and pushed open the window, the night air rushed in, cool and crisp against my face. I sighed, resting my arms against the windowsill, my eyes trailing over the dark expanse of trees stretching behind the house.
The woods had always been there, tall and foreboding, an ever–present boundary between home and the unknown. But tonight, something felt different. The air carried a strange weight, an unnatural stillness, as though the world itself was holding its breath. And then I saw it.
At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, that the shadows were shifting, bending under the dim moonlight. But then the figure moved–slowly, deliberately. A large, hulking shape, too big to be a normal dog, too fluid to be anything else I could make sense of.
My breath caught in my throat as its glowing amber eyes locked onto mine, piercing through the darkness like twin embers, burning, watching. It wasn’t just looking in my direction–it was looking at me. My stomach twisted into knots, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs, an instinctive fear rising from deep
within me.
My body reacted before my mind could catch up, my hands flying up to slam the window shut. The blinds came down in a single paRoaned motion, my fingers fumbling over the cords as I forced myself to take deep, shaky breaths.
I stepped back, my pulse roaring in my ears. It was just an animal, I told myself. Maybe a stray, maybe a wolf that had wandered too close to the house. But I knew better.
Something about it wasn’t right. Something about the way it looked at me, the way it didn’t move, just stood there–waiting. Watching.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to glance back at the window, half expecting to see those glowing eyes still staring at me through the glass. But there was nothing. Just the dark stretch of trees, the stillness of the night. It was gone.
My fingers curled into fists at my sides, trying to ground myself, trying to convince myself that I hadn’t imagined it, that it hadn’t been some figment of my exhausted mind playing cruel tricks on me. But deep down, I knew.
Something had been there. And it had seen me.
