Fear.

Intense, all-consuming fear filled the entirety of Zara's body. She could feel her limbs freeze, the sounds around her — rain and all — drifting away to nothingness. The growl she had heard coming from Sanders, no, Nate, made her want to snap from this haze she was in.

The deafening silence was not a friend this time.

Not this time.

With a mental shove, Zara pushed the fear away. Not letting it consume her as it had done before in the past.

Slowly, sounds started coming back. The pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the soft earth beneath her, branches swaying with the blowing wind. The thundering growl getting higher and louder.

Settling her gaze on the male before her, she took measured steps towards him, not wanting to be on the wrong side of his mounting anger that filtered in the air.

Almost a foot away from reaching Nate, a twig snapped beneath her shoe. Her breath hitched, lungs burning from holding the air inside as she watched his head jerk upwards and to the side, sniffing the air around him.

In a fast and swift move he turned his whole body around, his eyes penetrating hers.

"Whoa, calm down Sanders," she said softly, not wanting to startle him. "Everything is fine."

He snarled in return, his eyes flickering left and right trying to locate the threat.

His movements made a light bulb light up inside her mind, realizing that it was her fear that had triggered him.

"Sanders—" the low guttural sound in his throat getting louder stopped her from going further, "Nate," she said instead. "I'm fine. See?" Zara motioned with her hands, moving them up and down her body. "I'm fine."

He tried opening his mouth to reply. Instead of words, all that came out was a low throaty snarl.

As he cleared his throat to try again, she saw the bunched muscles on his forearms begin to untense themselves, the veins that were protruding from his skin now flat against his skin.

"That rose," he turned to stare back at it. "It's for you, isn't it." A statement, not a question.

"Yes," came her soft reply. She didn't want to deny it anymore. Especially when it was the second one they'd seen in as little as under an hour, she knew he wouldn't believe it being a coincidence.

"Who is it from?"

"Someone." She didn't want to go into specifics, not only because she didn't trust him — which she did not since they had just met — but because it didn't pertain to him.

Zara could tell he wanted to ask again, hoping that she would give him an actual answer. But she stopped him from asking by walking away to head back to the car.

"Hey!"

She ignored his shouting and picked up her pace to a fast trot. Trying, in vain, not to run so she wouldn't slip on the wet, leaf-covered ground.

– ☾ –

Closing and locking the door behind her, Zara made her way to the couch, plopping down on it with a heavy sigh.

The ride back to the office had been tense and silent. Throughout the trip she had felt his eyes piercing the side of her face, and had willed herself not to give in and turn to stare back at him.

After dropping Nate off in front of the building, she had left without saying goodbye. When she was turning the corner that would take away her view of him, she had given in and looked in the side mirror.

There he stood, in the pouring rain while staring back at her retreating vehicle.

Leaving the lights off in her house, she closed her eyes in hope that she would fall into a dreamless sleep.

A loud crash penetrated the silence.

With a shove she pushed herself upright and out of the couch, reaching for the sidearm that she still carried, thankful that she had forgotten to take it off.

She carefully toed off her boots so that she could tread the place silently on socks. The worst thing one can do is make unnecessary noise when their house is being broken into.

Mentally, she thanked the darkness that basked the house. The person who had broken in would not know that there was someone in residence while they carried on with what they were doing. Slipping the gun from its holster, she tip-toed to the kitchen. The outdoor light from the neighbors' house illuminated the broken glass scattered on the floor.

Staying silent, Zara evened out her breaths, hoping to catch a sound of movement from the burglar. Hearing nothing after a few tense minutes had gone by, she decided to risk it and ventured further into the room.

The smell of blood hit her out of nowhere.

Shit.

As she rounded the island that stood in the center of the room, close-toed boots stopped her advance.

Double shit.

A pool of silk red wine pooled underneath the body, growing larger as she stared down at it. In a split-second debate whether to leave and search the house further or to stay and help the person on the floor, the Omega nature decided it for her.

Knees on the floor and gun tucked back into its place, she checked for a pulse on the person's wrist. No heartbeat greeted her.

Grabbing the cell from her back pocket, she quickly dialed for an ambulance. She relayed her address, but didn't bother to tell them to hurry seeing as there was no need to.

As she prepared to stand and leave the body as it was, something white gripped in the hand of the dead male caught her attention.

Indecision wavered inside of her, as she wondered whether she should leave it for the forensics' team to retrieve or to grab it herself. She didn't want to tamper with evidence, but she was worried that this was a message solely directed at her.

If that was the case, then questions would be asked and secrets would need to be spilled.

She leaned over him and pried it from his grip.

The crunch that echoed in the empty room indicated that what he was holding was paper. Bringing it up to the light that spilled into the room, she saw that the once white page now sported splotches of blood.

Sirens rang in the distance while the note was unfolded, her heart thumped loudly in her ears, her hands shook and body trembled as she read it:

Always know that I will be forever watching over you, my beautiful rose.

Her stomach bottomed out, the burn of bile climbed up her throat, making her gag. Rushing to the trash can, she threw up everything she had eaten today, tears blinding her vision and trailing down blushed cheeks.

Knocking could be heard coming from the front door, but she dismissed it, not wanting anyone to see her this way.

Turning the knobs of the sink on and taking mouthful gulps of water, Zara breathed in deeply. She tried to steady her heart before being forced to go and open the door for the paramedics.

With a last mental shove, she shut the door to the fear gripping her body, securing it with steel and enclosing the trapped beast in her head.

A few hours later she found herself sitting on the couch, staring at her hands while the police and forensics teams finished dusting the scene. The fleeting glances her colleagues continued to throw her way only seemed to harden the mask of indifference marked on her face.

It was a front Zara often displayed to both her coworkers and the world at large, showing them how cool and collected she remained regardless of the situation.

When in reality, she was close to crumbling into grain-sized pieces.

"Crones," her boss screamed at her from the doorway, "A word."

Keeping her relaxed face, she got up to follow him out the door. Whispers began to fill the space behind her as soon as she walked out of the house. Ignoring them, she continued making her way to the open field that was considered to be her front yard.

"Yes, sir?"

"Care to explain what happened in there?"

"All will be explained in a detailed report," she replied, grimly. "Tomorrow."

His mouth opened, a retort about to spill out before a thoughtful look lined his eyes. Shutting it, he instead gave her a hard nod. "Then go and get some sleep, detective. You'll need it for tomorrow."

Silently, she watched him walk away to speak with the other officers, leaving her alone in the yard.