CHAPTER 60: EIRA’S FIRST KISS- I

Eira’s POV

(Flashback — Six Years Ago)

After the final class of the day, I rushed toward the back of the school to meet him.

I looked at my wristwatch. ’It must be at least half an hour—he must be waiting for me. I need to run.’

Thankfully, today I had worn a casual T-shirt, jeans, and sports shoes, with my hair tied in a ponytail—perfect for running.

Running with my heavy schoolbag hung on my shoulders, frequently glancing at my wrist watch, I crossed the vast school building, the sports ground behind it, and then passed through the broken boundary fence to head toward the grassy land ahead—to reach the far end, the deserted part where hardly anyone went.

I had been there a few times to meet him, so I didn’t find it difficult to reach. Moreover, the happiness of being able to spend some time with him was stronger than feeling any difficulty.

Before that, I had to convinced Alice to head home first with a half-baked excuse. I told her I had something to finish at school, something random and forgettable.

Of course, that sneaky girl sensed something was off. She gave me a suspicious look, but she was too sweet to push for the truth. Such a kind and sweet friend she was. It wasn’t that I wanted to hide it from her, just... not yet.

Because, it had only been a month since he and I started talking. Just a few short weeks since we realized we liked each other. It felt too soon to let anyone know about us.

What if I ended up like those other girls I’d seen crying in the hallways over broken hearts?

Once I was certain about my relationship with him, and after I turned sixteen and officially became an adult in coming few months, I will tell her.

Until then, I had to keep this feeling bottled up inside, even though every day I felt like screaming to the world that this handsome and amazing boy, he was mine.

To be honest, I never thought I’d feel this way about anyone, especially not so quickly. I’d always kept my distance from boys, never interested, never tempted. But maybe I’d just been waiting for him.

Despite my grandparents had always been strict with me, controlled my life, and often warned me to keep distance from boys, I couldn’t resist when it came to him.

In fact, it didn’t even take a moment for me to fall for him, and somehow, I was lucky enough that later he felt the same.

When I first met him, I was convinced he wasn’t interested. He used to glance at me with this unreadable look, like I was nothing more than just something that amused him.

But slowly, those occasional looks turned into brief exchanges. Little conversations when we crossed paths. Then longer ones. Until one day, talking to him became the part of my day I looked forward to most.

Today, I was meeting him because he was leaving for the Alpha training camp.

It would last two weeks. The camp was part of a regular routine—intense training held every few months for all the male students, strictly for every Alpha in the pack, before they finished education and entered the harsh reality of the outside world.

I was still in the high school, while he was a university student.

His university wasn’t far from mine, which made our accidental meetings more frequent... though they weren’t really accidents. Others might’ve thought so, but we both knew better.

By the time I reached the grassy backfield, I was panting, a thin sheen of sweat coating my skin. I leaned forward, hands on my thighs, trying to catch my breath.

Then I saw him.

He stood beneath the lone tree in the open field, next to the small wooden bench beneath its shade, his back at me. He didn’t sit. He was facing the distant mountains, eyes on the horizon, the sky ahead him streaked with soft blue.

Dressed in a long, dark trench coat, his tall figure looked so mysterious, so distant. His broad shoulders hinted at the strength he carried, and his short dark hair swayed gently in the wind. He was smoking—completely absorbed in it.

As if he had already sensed my presence, he finally turned to look at me.

God, I was never a fan of smoking. The scent always made me lightheaded. But the way he held that cigarette between his fingers, how his lips met it as he took a drag, paired with that ridiculously handsome face of his with that pair of the most beautiful light green eyes,... I didn’t mind at all.

Honestly, I could have sat on that bench beneath the tree and watched him smoke all day.

But the moment he saw me, he stopped. He flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his boot.

Inhaling deeply a few times, I calmed myself first to settle my ragged breathing, and then slowly walked toward him, letting the cold breeze coming from the mountain dry the sweat from my body.

I hope I’m not stinking. Alphas have keen senses.

I stood by the bench, a little nervous under his gaze, which I could never quite understand—what those eyes held in them.

"Did I make you wait too long?" I asked, my voice hesitant as my anxious eyes met his calm, steady ones.

"I used that time to finish these," he said, holding up an empty cigarette box. Only then did I notice the scattered cigarette butts on the ground.

Gosh... how many had he smoked? How long has he been here? Guilt crept into my chest as I looked back at him. "I... I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to make you wait."

In response, he simply leaned back against the tree, one leg bent and resting against the trunk behind him, his hands tucked into the deep pockets of his trench coat.

Tilting his head slightly, he looked at me with that usual trace of amusement in his eyes, though his expression remained unreadably serious.

"So... how are you going to make up for it, little bunny?"

I blinked, feeling heat rise to my cheeks under the weight of his gaze. That look—intense, unbothered, and far too confident—always made my heart race.

It wasn’t entirely my fault. The class had run long. Still, I had made him wait.

"I brought something for you," I told him and pulled my schoolbag down from my shoulders, then sat on the bench. I unzipped the bag and pulled out a small box from it.

"These are the cookies I baked this morning," I said, opening the lid to reveal the neat row of chocolate chip cookies inside. "I hope you like them. If not, you can tell me what you prefer and—"

Before I could finish, he was already beside me, reaching into the box. He picked up a cookie and took a bite.

"How is it?" I asked, hopeful he’d say something nice.

He chewed it for a few moments, like giving it deep thought.

Then his gaze locked on mine, as if savoring more than just the cookie and said, "I was just wondering... which one is tastier—this cookie, or the one who made it?"