The sting in my jaw was sharp—a blunt reminder that my head wasn't in the game. My face snapped to the side, and I barely managed to keep from biting my tongue. From somewhere in the background, Luca shouted, "What are you doing, man? Pay attention! What is wrong with you?" I growled, frustration burning through me as I turned back to my opponent in the ring. He looked just as shocked as everyone watching—surprised that he'd actually managed to land a hit on me. Before he could celebrate, I pivoted. Without a second thought, I swung back, I let a hook fly, my fist connecting solidly. He hit the mat with a loud thump, the sound echoing through the training facility.
He stood slowly, rubbing his jaw with a grimace. "Damn, man. That really hurt. Don't you know how to take it easy?" I rolled my eyes. "You think a rogue or a hunter is going to go easy on you just because you ask?" He sighed. "Jeez, I'm just saying—it was only a practice fight." I snorted. "You've been training with us for months. You know we don't go easy on anyone."
He opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off. "If I go easy on you," I continued, my voice sharp, "you don't learn. And if you don't learn, you die—or worse, you get someone else killed." The ring went quiet. "Rogues and hunters don't care if you're tired," I said coldly. "They don't care if you're bleeding. And they sure as hell won't stop just because you hit the ground." I stepped closer. "You've been with us for months. You know the rules. If I coddle you here, I'm just preparing you to die out there." My gaze hardened. "Be glad this is training. Because they won't give you second chances—and they won't stop hitting you once you're down."
"Damn, Alpha. Who put your panties in a twist?" My eyes locked onto his, the wolf behind my pupils flashing. "Don't test me, kid." He held up his hands, muttering a "whatever" before heading for the showers. I watched him go, sighing heavily as I muttered under my breath, "Teenagers." Luca came up beside me and snorted. "I know. They think they know everything. And that they are invincible."
"Like you were any better?" I countered. He scoffed, looking offended. "Oh, please, I wasn't that bad." I paused, then nodded thoughtfully. Luca's face lit up, clearly pleased with himself. "You're right," I said. "You weren't that bad." His grin widened. "You were so much worse. You put your poor mother through hell." His eyes went wide. "Hey! I was not." I stared at him in disbelief before shaking my head. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." Luca scoffed. "What is wrong with you today? You're not usually this testy." I sighed. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine."
Even as the words left my mouth, my focus drifted. My eyes swept the grounds around the facility—then the treeline beyond it—for what felt like the hundredth time. I didn't know what I was expecting. A flash of silver hair. Her scent on the wind. Anything. There was nothing. The memory of her panicked expression from earlier surfaced unbidden, sharp and unwanted. The way her eyes had widened. The way she'd looked at me like she was already halfway gone. The ache settled heavy in my chest, sinking lower until it felt like lead in my stomach. With a quiet breath, I finally forced myself to look away.
"Does this have anything to do with that mate of yours?" There was a note of displeasure in Luca's voice, and it immediately grated on my nerves. I snapped back without thinking. "How about you learn to mind your own damn business?" Luca pressed his lips together, studying me for a moment before nodding once. "I'll take that as a yes." I shot him a narrowed look. "Oh yeah? And what about you?"
He frowned. "What do you mean—"
"Has your own mate decided to talk to you yet?" His eyes widened slightly before he scoffed. "Damn, man. Someone needs to take a chill pill. You're not the first male to get the silent treatment from his mate—but that doesn't mean you get to take it out on everyone else." I rolled my eyes. "You do it all the time. I don't want to hear it." Luca sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Yeah. And I am actually trying to improve on that. Can't say the same for you right now."
I sighed. "Look, I'm sorry... but at least yours isn't leaving when the week is up." Luca raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you consider that a good thing?" I turned to glare at him. He held up his hands in surrender. "I'm just saying it so you don't have to keep lying to your pack about who—or what—she is. Then you don't have to worry about it anymore." I rolled my eyes, but my chest felt tight. "That may be true... but the goddess put us together in the first place. I still don't understand why. And I don't want to feel like I'm making a huge mistake by letting her go like this."
Luca sighed, about to say something, but I held up a finger. "One sec." My phone buzzed. Mia. I picked it up, even though I was supposed to be training. Luca rolled his eyes and walked over to take over the session, knowing the drill by now. "This is Kayden." I heard Mia chuckle softly on the other end. "Well, I certainly hope so." I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. "What's up, Mia? You don't normally call me in the middle of training."
"Well, I just wanted to let you know I finished up here and was about to head down to the cells to check on the prisoners." I frowned. "Is that really why you're calling? You know better than to interrupt training unless it's important." I could practically hear the smirk in her voice. She was messing with me—I just didn't know how yet. "No, that's not why I called," she said lightly. "I was going to tell you about your mate, but if you're too busy, we can just forget it." My jaw clenched instantly. "Amelia," I warned, my tone low and sharp, "don't you dare start with me."
I could hear her giggle over the line. "Well, you don't seem all that interested. If you're not, I can just go." I rolled my eyes. "Amelia, tell me!" Her voice dripped with smug satisfaction. "Well, if you insist." I groaned softly, but listened. "Were you aware your mate loves reading? She looked impressed with the library... and she was even happier when I told her she could borrow any book she wanted, whenever she wanted." My chest tightened. I tried to picture her expression, but the image only made my heart ache more. She was there, seeing it firsthand, while I... I couldn't even be near her right now.
I had to grit my teeth to keep from saying something stupid as she went on. "She also really loves history, can you believe it? She even picked up that history textbook you've read a dozen times. Although... I don't understand the appeal." I tuned out her rant about how boring history was, letting my thoughts drift.
A strange mix of pride and jealousy hit me. Somehow, knowing she was out there, reading the same book I had read so many times growing up, made me... a little happy. The idea of her holding it, her fingers tracing the same pages I had, made my chest ache. That book had always been my guide when I felt unsure of myself—a place to look for answers, for direction. I'd always been fascinated by our history. There was always something missing, some truth that hadn't yet revealed itself. And somehow, deep down, I'd always wanted to be the one to find it.
I tuned back into the conversation when Mia's voice came through. "But do you want to hear the best part of it all?" I groaned. She always loved being theatrical. "Mia, just tell me," I said with a sigh. She scoffed. "Fine, be that way." I felt a flicker of annoyance. Her antics were getting tiresome lately. "Your mate," she said, savoring the words, "is a history teacher. Or, was, before she ended up here. She's not only beautiful but brilliant as well."
My chest swelled with pride as I remembered her with the children—the way she had appeared out of her cell that first day, teaching, guiding, laughing. They had all loved her. The thought of her sharing that joy of learning made my stomach tighten with guilt. How had I treated her? How could I have been so cold? "Do you know why she isn't teaching now?" I asked. I could hear Mia sigh on the other end. "No. She doesn't say. She never says much about herself. I don't think she trusts us enough yet."
"Not that I blame her," I muttered. "After the way I treated her."
"You need to fix this," Mia said firmly. "I can't be your go-between forever. The only way she'll start trusting us—trusting you—is if you show her it's safe to rely on us. You're her mate, Kayden. You may be the only one who can do that." My chest tightened, regret and anger curling inward. "And how do you expect me to do that when she won't even let me get near her?" Mia sighed softly. "Then you're going to have to try harder. Push her to talk to you, if you have to." Her voice dropped. "Because if you don't... you're going to regret it when she disappears from your life for good."
I growled under my breath. "I know that. I just don't know how." I could practically see Mia rolling her eyes. "That's because you've never been in a real relationship in your life." I scoffed. "Trust me, I've seen enough just dealing with you and Luca." I paused, then added more quietly, "Besides... why would I ever want a fake relationship when I knew my mate was out there somewhere, waiting for me to find her?"
"Yeah, well, we wouldn't be having this conversation if you actually knew how to deal with women. The only women you know how to handle are your family and me. Most people would think you'd figure out the rest after being around us your whole life—but here we are. You still don't know anything, and you could very well lose the one person you've been waiting your whole life to meet."
I had nothing to say. She was right. "You should write a book," she added smugly, "on how to offend women in one sentence or less." I rolled my eyes. "Really? Was that necessary?" She scoffed. "Yes. It made me feel better, at least." I rolled my eyes. "When are you going to learn not to push my buttons?"
"When you learn to control your temper and actually behave like a decent person." I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "I don't know how you and Luca manage to deal with each other. I could never." Her voice dripped with sass. "That's a good thing—I'd hate to be paired up with you, too." I swear she stuck her tongue out at the end, though I couldn't be sure. It's Mia—we both know she probably did.
I felt the corners of my mouth lift slightly at her childish antics. "Yes, Mia, I'm aware. We're both happier being friends than we ever could be as mates." She snorted. "Good. As long as you know that." I rolled my eyes. "Was there anything else, or was that it?" She sighed on the other end. "You know she has some... interesting theories on our history, and on her own. You might find them more fascinating than anything I say. Ask her about it sometime—but keep your composure. If you react the way you did last time when she told you about her past... she won't wait the week out. She'll leave, and you'll never see her again."
Hearing her speak, excitement rose at the thought of learning something new about our history—and maybe finding that missing piece. But her last words hit me like a punch to the gut. It was like salt in a wound that hadn't healed. "I'll keep that in mind," I said quietly. "Nah uh. If you can't promise that, then don't you dare try to ask her about it. Not until you know for certain you can stay calm and not hurt her again. Only then can you ask that question. I really like her, and I don't want to see you miserable for the rest of your life—that's exactly what would happen." I could hear the seriousness in her tone. She wasn't joking. I had already promised myself that if Artemis opened up about her past again, I would do whatever it took not to hurt her.
"I know that, Mia. I'll keep it in mind." My voice was steady, unshakable. This time, I truly meant it. She sighed, "You'd better. I don't want to see you blow this." Her care softened my heart slightly. "I'll try. But I can't say the same about her."
"You leave her to me. I'll try to convince her." I could hear the confidence in her voice and chuckled. Too confident for her own good—that would be her downfall. "You do that, then." I was just about to hang up when she added, "Oh! I almost forgot—did you know your mate can cook? She's actually really good. That omelet she made... I loved it. It would be a shame if you never got to try her cooking, though I can promise you, it's a taste I'll never forget."
Click. She hung up. The teasing in her tone was unmistakable. Mia was trying to rile me up—to make me jealous. And, unfortunately, it worked. I was jealous. The first to taste my mate's cooking... and it wasn't me. I growled under my breath, shaking my head, before heading back to join my pack in the training area.
*
The moment training ended, I sent everyone on their way—posts or home, it didn't matter. I stayed behind with Luca to clean up, and our conversation flowed easily, the way it always did between us. We apologized for our earlier outbursts, and he promised to at least be civil with my mate whenever she was involved. By the time we finished, the tension had melted away. Walking away, I felt lighter, the familiar rhythm of our friendship settling comfortably around me.
After cleaning up, I noticed the sun beginning to set, painting the sky with bright oranges and hints of pink along the horizon. Luca told me he could finish up at the center, so I left him to it—neither of us needed to be there any longer. The moment I stepped outside, a rush of cool air hit my skin. I paused, letting the refreshing breeze wash over me, realizing just how hot I had gotten inside. For a few quiet seconds, I simply allowed myself to enjoy it.
I don't know why I looked toward that spot again—the place where I'd seen my mate standing earlier—even though I knew she wouldn't be there. She was long gone. Still, my gaze lingered, and I sighed, feeling like a helpless, powerless pup when it came to this damn mate bond. I couldn't even stop my feet from carrying me closer, no matter how many times I told myself it was pointless. Every step only drove the truth deeper: I'd already ruined this. Worthlessness settled heavily in my chest. I couldn't do anything right when it came to her, and that was entirely my fault. I had no idea how to fix the mess I'd created—or if it was already too late to try.
I sighed and leaned against the tree where she had stood when our eyes met, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. I felt ridiculous for being drawn here, even knowing she wouldn't be, yet a small, stubborn part of me hoped she might still be nearby, just out of sight. Standing there, I felt utterly stupid—and like a complete failure.
Just as I started to turn back toward the house, a sudden gust of wind made the metal creak on my mother's old bench swing. Instantly, memories came flooding back: of running to that swing as a child, finding her there reading, watching my father train, and always smiling at me with warmth and pride. I remembered how she'd help me up onto the swing, how we spent hours there talking and reading stories. Even as I got older and began training with my father, she was always watching, always there when I came running back, sweaty and tired, greeting me with that same loving smile and hug. She was the kindest, most wonderful person I'd ever met, and it was those memories that drew me to the swing. I wanted a moment to linger in them, to let the past soothe my frustration, and maybe even think of a way to fix the mess I'd made.
As I stepped closer to the old swing, my breath caught in my throat. The last thing I expected was to see my mate lying there, fast asleep. I froze, rooted to the spot behind the swing, staring down at her. She looked so peaceful, so perfect, exactly as she had when our eyes had met earlier today. Every detail—every line of her face, every subtle rise and fall of her chest—was flawless. The sweater she wore slipped just enough to reveal a hint of her flawless, pale skin, the curve of her shoulder tempting me in ways I had no right to indulge. I could feel the urge to lean in, to kiss that shoulder and trace a path up to her neck, eventually finding those perfect, heart-shaped lips.
As if sensing my thoughts, she sighed softly in her sleep and turned her head slightly, almost offering me better access. I had to clench my jaw, forcing myself to resist. She was sleeping so peacefully, and the last thing I could ever do was violate that trust. I would never give her another reason to hate me—or to doubt me.
Instead, I circled the swing slowly, careful not to wake her. It would be such a shame to disturb her when she looked so peaceful. She lay on her back, one hand resting on the book across her stomach, the other dangling off the bench as if it had slipped there naturally. Her face, usually so guarded, was completely relaxed for the first time since I had met her, giving her an almost angelic serenity. Even as the sun began to set, its warm glow fell directly on her, bathing her in soft orange light, as if the world itself were highlighting her perfection.
Knowing she was a tiger shifter, I couldn't help but picture her as a cat, basking lazily in the sun's warmth, her body completely at ease. A small, soft smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I crouched beside her, unable to look away. Gently, I lifted my hand above her eyes, casting a shadow to shield them from the sun, hoping she could continue sleeping peacefully. But as if she sensed the subtle change, her long silver lashes fluttered open, catching the light.
The moment I opened my eyes, I expected to see the sky—but instead, I was met with a hand, as if someone was shielding their face from the sun. My gaze traced the arm, following it upward, until it led me to the familiar tattoos...and finally, the face I knew so well: my mate. Up close, he was even more striking, and for a fleeting moment, I wondered if I was still dreaming. There was no way he could be here, especially after the way I'd behaved. Yet, with that thought, I let myself indulge, allowing instinct to take over for once.
I watched as she turned her head toward me, and I could see she recognized me instantly. My body tensed, a flicker of fear washing over me—fear of her and of how she might react this time. Her eyes were only half-open, still carrying that dazed, just-awake look, and for a moment, I thought she was still half in a dream. Then, she tilted her head slightly, and all my thoughts vanished. A smile curved her lips, and there was an almost seductive gleam in her eyes.
Slowly, she reached out her hand toward me. I froze, afraid that any sudden movement might make her vanish again. Her fingers brushed my cheek, gentle and deliberate, before sliding to the back of my neck. Before I could even react, she shifted, settling on the edge of the bench, and pulled me toward her. For a second, our lips met, and I was confused—but then it hit me, and my body responded instantly, fully, to the kiss.
One of her hands rested at the back of my neck, guiding me closer, and that was all the confirmation I needed. I moved in, letting my own hand curl around the back of her neck, drawing her toward me. I brushed my lips against hers, teasing her bottom lip, and when she parted, I didn't hesitate. I explored her mouth, tasting every corner, every nuance, letting the mate bond flare between us. Sparks shot through my body with every touch, each kiss sending fireworks exploding through my mind, leaving me intoxicated by the sheer addictiveness of her taste.
Without breaking the kiss, I shifted, moving from my knees to straddle her on the bench—one knee between her legs, the other braced on the edge beside her. My hand slid from the back of her neck into her hair, and with a gentle tug, we parted just enough to catch our breath. I trailed my lips down her neck, feeling her fingers tighten in my hair as a soft murmur of pleasure escaped her. When I reached the spot where her shoulder met her neck, I couldn't resist and let my tongue brush over her skin. Her body shuddered beneath mine, and I felt a rush of heat course through me in response.
I couldn't help but smirk at the effect I was having on her, and it made me savor the moment even more—her soft murmurs and the quiet gasps of pleasure that escaped her lips stirring something deep inside me. My hands traced over her, feeling the warmth of her body beneath mine as I nipped playfully at her neck. Every movement, every subtle reaction from her, made my pulse quicken.
I could feel the pull of the mate bond in the back of my mind, a tugging insistence that reminded me how connected we were, how deeply this went beyond the surface. But I forced myself to stay present, focusing entirely on her—the way her eyes fluttered closed, the slight shiver that ran through her, the soft smiles that crossed her lips. She was mine in ways that didn't need to be claimed or marked; it was in the connection we shared, the bond that neither of us could deny.
My knee pressed firmly against her core, and I could hear her gasp as I moved against her. I trailed kisses up her neck again while my hands continued to knead her soft breasts. Through the thin fabric of her sweater, I could feel the shape of her, and I quickly found the hardening peak of her nipple. The moment I pinched it, she arched her back and let out a low, shivering moan near my ear. A growl rumbled from deep in my chest as my desire for her only intensified—I wanted to taste every inch of her, to consume every part of her that belonged to me.
Without any warning, she pushed me back, and I stumbled onto the bench. In an instant, she had positioned herself on top of me, straddling my waist while my legs dangled off the edge. As she settled, I gripped her hips, and she leaned down to kiss me, taking full control this time. I felt her shift her body deliberately, grinding against the length of me that was already hardening in desire.
I could feel the mate bond in full effect as our consciousnesses began to merge, letting me sense her pleasure alongside my own. Waves of sensation bounced between us, slowly intertwining and amplifying our shared desire. She trailed kisses down my neck as she continued to grind against me, soft moans escaping her lips—and I couldn't help but join in with my own groans. I shifted one hand from her hip to her back, pulling her closer until our chests pressed together, her soft breasts resting against mine. Her hands slide from the bench beside my head to my shoulders, gripping them for support. Then, she leaned in and licked the side of my neck, almost possessively—like a child claiming something as their own. When her tongue brushed my skin, I opened my eyes and caught the smirk on her lips. A low growl rumbled from my chest, and she only raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my reaction.
I moved both of my hands to grip her breasts, squeezing gently, and another soft moan escaped her lips. She leaned back slightly, giving me better access, and I couldn't tear my eyes away as she swept all her hair to one side. Her gaze met mine—sultry, filled with desire—and the setting sun behind her cast a warm, almost halo-like glow around her. She looked absolutely perfect. My voice dropped into a husky, desire-laden whisper as I murmured, "God, kitten, you are so beautiful."
The second those words left my mouth, her eyes went wide, and her body stiffened, like she'd just been hit by a bolt of lightning. She lurched backward so fast it was almost as if the bench had launched her, landing a few feet away in a single, elegant motion. Before I could even react, she had stepped back, her gaze wild, chest rising and falling, and her expression a mix of disbelief and panic. I froze, my heart hammering as I tried to make sense of her reaction. She glanced around, muttering softly to herself, "This is all real."
Her fingers pinched the inside of her right arm, and she whispered again, "Yep, this is definitely not a dream." I shifted to get off the swing, desperate to pull her into my arms, to make sure she didn't hurt herself, and to understand what had shaken her so profoundly. But the moment I moved, her eyes snapped to mine, and she held up her hand sharply. "Stop! Stay right there."
Confusion and hurt washed over his face the second those words left my lips, but I couldn't stop myself. I had to say it—otherwise he would have moved closer, and neither of us would have been able to process everything that had just happened. I could still feel his consciousness brushing against my own, his confusion bleeding into me as if it were my own, and his lingering sadness pressed against my mind, even as it slowly began to fade. I know that shared pleasure is one of the many signs of a true mate, a connection meant to reaffirm our bond—but right now, it was overwhelming, too much to manage, and utterly consuming.
I pressed my hands against the sides of my head and sank to a crouch, feeling the world spin around me. Surprise and concern immediately flashed across Kayden's face, but I also saw him grip the edge of the bench, holding himself back from rushing over. His voice was low, gruff, and trembling with restraint. "Are you—" I cut him off, my own voice shaky. "I'm fine... just give me a minute." He didn't speak again, but I could see the unease in his eyes, the tight grip on the bench, the unspoken tension that screamed he wanted to be here but couldn't.
I stayed like that for a few minutes, focusing on my breathing while my mind raced. As his presence slowly but surely faded from my own, I felt the crushing tension begin to ease. I lingered there for another minute, finally taking in my surroundings and replaying the last few moments. I should have known it wasn't a dream the second I felt those mate bond sparks—but the moment our lips met, all I could think about was how much I wanted him.
Every second had been intoxicating. I wanted him so badly that I'd ignored every warning sign just to stay lost in that feeling. His touch was a drug, and when fueled by the mate bond, it became a force of nature that wiped away the rest of the world. With all logic gone, there was only him. Even now, my body thrummed with the ghost of his hands on me. My skin still tingled from his caresses, leaving a dull ache in my chest because I couldn't go to him and finish what we'd started. The distance between us felt physically painful. I wasn't the only one suffering, either; in the shadows of my mind, my tiger was pacing and whimpering, her desperate cries echoing my own. She was practically begging me to turn back around and surrender.
The moment he spoke, it was as if a veil was lifted, snapping me back to a reality I couldn't ignore. I had to stop this before it was too late. It was only a matter of time before I left to keep the pack—and him—safe. Giving him hope that I might stay would be a cruelty I couldn't commit; staying would only draw us closer, making the eventual goodbye unbearable. I wanted to leave on good terms, and I knew this was not the way to achieve that.
As my mind cleared, I realized his gaze had never left mine. His knuckles were bone-white from the force of his grip on the bench, a physical testament to his struggle to obey me. I felt a surge of respect—and a flicker of pride—that he was fighting his every instinct just to honor my request. I took a slow, steadying breath before standing. When his body twitched, as if he were about to lung toward me, I simply raised a hand. He froze instantly, yielding to my silent command.
"Please don't move. Stay right there," I commanded. He raised a questioning eyebrow, his body still tense. "Look, I can't have you near me right now," I admitted, my voice strained. "It's already hard enough just dealing with your scent. If you get any closer, I won't be able to stop myself from finishing what we started." His nostrils flared as he took a sharp, deep breath, catching my scent in return. He looked genuinely blindsided. "Is it something I did? Did I do something wrong? Because one moment, everything was perfect—and the next, you're acting like the world is falling apart." I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. "No, you didn't do anything wrong. I just... I can't do this."
"Can't do what?" He threw his hands up, looking completely exasperated. "Is it because my apology wasn't enough? Do you think I didn't mean it? Because I meant every word. I haven't slept since it happened—I barely closed my eyes last night. Just tell me what to do to make it up to you. I would give you the world if I could. I'll give you anything you desire, just stay. Give me a chance to prove I'm not the worst mate to ever exist."
"No, it's not that," I whispered.
"Then please, just tell me what you want me to do," I pleaded. "I'll get down on my knees if that's what it takes." I watched her, my chest aching as she began to pace. She hugged her arms tightly to her chest, looking like she was trying to keep herself from shattering. "No," she said, her voice strained. "I already forgave you for that. I forgave you the moment you apologized last night."
It took me a heartbeat to process her words. "You what?" Stunned disbelief flashed through me before shifting into a sharp, hot spark of anger. I shot to my feet, the bench forgotten. "Then why didn't you say a word to me? Why did you just walk away? I've been sitting here feeling like the greatest jerk on the planet, and you couldn't be bothered to tell me we were okay?"
I held up my hand, a silent wall between us, reminding him not to step any closer. I could see the frustration and raw anger boiling in his expression, but I forced myself to ignore it. "Don't you see? I couldn't say anything," I said, my voice trembling. "If I had, you would have wanted to know more. We would have grown closer, and the mate bond would have only pulled us deeper. If that happened, it would just hurt more when it came time for me to leave. If it weren't for the promise I made to that woman, I'd be gone already—sparing us both this heartache."
My anger flared white-hot at the mention of her leaving. "If that was your plan all along, why stay at all?" I demanded, my voice rising. "Why didn't you just run the first night we met?" She looked at me, her eyes a storm of conflicting emotions. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, stripped of the walls she'd built. "Because I've always wanted to meet my mate," she whispered. "After seeing how happy my parents were, it was all I ever thought about. I used to dream of this as a child, just like everyone else—the idea that someone is out there who was made specifically for you. Someone who will love only you." She let out a hollow, shaky breath. "God, who could ever want to pass that up?"
"I waited so long to finally meet you. And when I did... God, it was even better than I ever imagined. Everything I was told growing up was true, but a thousand times stronger. The sparks every time we touch, the way my vision narrows until the rest of the world just disappears... It's all real." Her eyes fluttered closed for a brief second, as if she were savoring the memory, before they snapped open again. "Your scent is so addictive. It envelops me whenever you're near, comforting me and making me crave more all at once. And your kisses..." She trailed off, her voice thick with emotion. "They're filled with so much passion that I could never want another the way I want you. That fated fire is more enticing than anything I'd ever heard. It knocks the breath from my lungs and makes my knees buckle. Who could possibly want to give that up?"
Confusion etched deep lines into his face. He threw his hands up in a burst of pure frustration. "If you feel that way, then why? Why are you trying to leave?" "God, I don't want to!" I cried, tears finally welling over. "Not after searching for you for so long." His hands dropped to his sides with a heavy thump. "Then why are you so set on it?" "Don't you see?" I scoffed, the sound sharp and brittle. "I have to." He looked both angry and lost as he ran his fingers through his hair, pacing a short line. "No. I don't understand at all."
I closed my eyes, the weight of the sadness and frustration finally becoming too much to bear. When I opened them and looked at him, the truth blurted out before I could stop it. "I don't want anyone you care about—especially you—to get hurt because of me! That is exactly what would happen if I stayed, and I would be helpless to stop it. I can't do that to you. I won't."
I was completely taken aback. Then, a cold, sharp anger began to well in my chest at the thought of her in danger—at the thought of anyone hunting what was mine. "Is someone after you?" I demanded, my voice low and dangerous. "Is that what this is about?" She swiped a stray tear from her cheek, her frustration bubbling over. "God, you aren't listening to me!" I snorted, rolling my eyes at the sheer absurdity of her doubt. "Yes, I am. If someone is after you, we can protect you. My pack and I are not weak, and you don't need to spend another second worrying about safety. We can defend ourselves just fine—and even if the pack weren't enough, I am strong enough to protect you on my own. You have nothing to worry about."
I watched him close the distance between us. This time, I didn't have the strength to tell him to stop. I buried my face in my palms, shaking my head in a futile rhythm. "No, you can't. You don't understand." I felt his hands slide up my arms, his touch steady and comforting. Even through the fabric of my sweater, the mate bond hummed, sending a dull, rhythmic pulse of sparks through my skin. I didn't have to look up to know it was him; his presence was written into my soul. "Just tell me what you're going through," he said, his voice dropping to a soft, calm low. "I'll help you. I can protect you, and I will. You're my mate. I will always be there for you."
I finally looked at him, my heart breaking at the sincerity in his eyes. "There is nothing you can do." He opened his mouth to protest, but I shook my head, the gesture stopping him in his tracks. "Please, stop. I'm fine. Nothing is wrong, and no one is after me. I just need to leave before... before anything happens." I could see the sorrow and concern in his gaze, though it couldn't quite mask the flicker of frustration beneath the surface. "Just let it go. Please. Can we talk about something else? Anything else?"
I stared down into her tear-filled blue eyes. I was a mess of contradictions—angry, confused, and desperate for answers—but seeing her like this made my heart ache. I wanted to make the rest of the world disappear for her. My need to comfort her outweighed my need to know the truth. Without a second thought, I scooped her up into my arms. She tensed instantly, her hands flying to my neck to steady herself as I lifted her. "What are—" she started, but the question died as I sat back down on the bench, pulling her onto my lap.
She shifted, a small movement as if to climb down, but I held her firmly against me. Resting my chin on the crown of her head, I began to stroke her hair in a slow, soothing rhythm. Eventually, the fight left her. She settled against my chest, and I began to rock the bench gently. We sat in silence for a long time. As she calmed, she snuggled closer, tucking her face into the crook of my neck. The moment I felt her warm breath against my skin, a violent shudder racked my body. I heard her soft, muffled chuckle against my pulse—she'd felt it, too. I didn't care. In this moment, everything felt absolutely perfect, and I wouldn't have traded it for the world.
"You smell so good," I heard her mutter, the words almost lost against my skin. A smirk tugged at my lips. "That's good to know." I felt her smile against my neck, a tiny vibration that sent a spark through me. After a few beats of silence, I asked softly, "Is there anything you want to talk about? Anything at all?" She sighed, shifting her weight until her head rested on my shoulder. "I'm not sure. What about you? Is there something you want to know?" I looked up at the sun as it lowered itself even further in the sky, my voice low. "I want to know more about you. I'd love to pick up where we left off—before I lost my temper like a complete ass."
I felt her body stiffen against mine. "I don't know," she whispered. "It might only make things harder. I don't think it's a good idea." I pressed my cheek against her forehead, anchoring her to me. "Please. I don't want to lose you without ever truly knowing you. If you really are going to leave... I want the rest of our time to be filled with happy memories. Something to look back on fondly." I held my breath, the silence stretching between us. "Okay," she finally relented. "If that's how you feel, I'll tell you. But if you react like that again, I swear I'll leave right now—promise or no promise." I let out my breath in a long, relieved sigh. "It's a deal. One I intend to keep."
She chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against my chest. "Okay... where were we?" She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "Ah, that's right. We were talking about how the tiger villages serve two purposes. We discussed the first—mating—but we never got to the second." I nodded, my chin brushing the top of her head. "If I'm not mistaken, you said the second reason was for training children."
I closed my eyes and took a slow, steadying breath. I nearly flinched; his words felt like a double-edged sword, sharp with a hidden meaning I wasn't ready to face. "Close, but not exactly," I corrected him. "I'm fairly certain I said teach, not train. Though much like wolf children, once they reach a certain age, we do begin training them. We have to ensure they can protect themselves from danger and know how to remain hidden from human eyes. In essence, it's the same thing." I felt him nod against me. He didn't speak, and I was suddenly grateful I couldn't see his face. I didn't want to witness the skepticism I was certain would be written all over his features.
"All parents are required to send their children to the nearest village by the time they're four," I explained. "Though some have been known to hand their children over to the elders as young as a year old." I felt him stiffen beneath me, his voice sharp with disbelief. "Why the hell would someone do that?" I sighed, the weight of my culture feeling heavy. "Because some people simply aren't meant for the responsibility of raising a child—nor do they have the desire. Some only want the company of a partner and find themselves pregnant by accident; they keep the child just long enough to stop the elders from pestering them to breed. Others have children solely to end the constant badgering. And then," I paused, my voice growing bitter, "there are those who use their children as trophies, treating them like a contest to see who can produce the strongest, biggest cub."
His grip tightened on my shoulder, his voice dropping an octave as he asked, "And what about you? What were your parents like?" I felt a surge of warmth at his protective tone, a genuine smile finally curving my lips. "My parents are amazing people. They're the best people I've ever known, and I consider myself incredibly lucky to have been born to them." I felt the tension drain out of him, as if he were physically relieved to find out my own parents weren't like the ones I'd just described. "They actually waited until the very last second to send me to the village," I continued softly. "I didn't go until I was ten years old."
"Why would they avoid it?" Kayden asked, his voice laced with confusion. "Isn't it a good thing to go to these villages?" I scoffed. "In theory, yes." I felt him stiffen beneath me. "I take it there's a 'but' coming." "You catch on fast," I whispered with a dark chuckle. "Those villages are just a way for the elders to control and manipulate our kind. They start with us when we're young to ensure our loyalty is to them, not our families. My parents didn't want to send me there, but they didn't have a choice." Kayden's head jerked toward me, a sharp movement of surprise or anger, but I refused to look. I was grateful for our positions—grateful I didn't have to see his face.
I began rubbing my hand over his chest in a slow circle, hoping the sparks from the bond would keep him calm. I wanted so badly to believe we could spend the rest of this week in peace. "By law, all tiger shifters must send their children by the age of ten," I continued, my voice growing heavy. "If you miss that deadline, the consequences are absolute. First, the elders send their strongest warriors to hunt you down. If you're found, the child is forcibly removed, and the parents are cast out—banned from all tiger kind forever." I paused, my hand stilling on his chest. "Exile means you have no protection. You live the rest of your days alone. And if you're ever discovered by humans, our kind won't help you; they'll view you as a liability. They'll send warriors to track you down one last time—only this time, they won't bring you home. They'll kill you on the spot."
His chest began to rise and fall in a rapid, jagged rhythm. His arm tightened around me, a silent vow to protect me from a cruelty he couldn't even begin to fathom. "Banishment is just another death sentence," I continued, my voice thin. "It's their way of saying they hope you're killed by other shifters—or better yet, a hunter. I've actually seen the elders throw a party after receiving news that a banished tiger had been slaughtered. They celebrated it." I closed my eyes, my heart leaden with the memory. "It was awful," I whispered.
It was meant for myself, but I knew he heard. He responded by pressing my head firmly against his chest, his fingers beginning a gentle, soothing scratch against my scalp. We sat in silence as I gathered my thoughts, letting his steady pulse anchor me. "The elders use banishment for control, but they also have a reward system," I explained. "They provide those they deem worthy—those who do their bidding—with riches and whatever else they desire. It blinds them. That's why they take the children so young; they brainwash them to ensure their only loyalty is to the elders. It keeps the parents in check, too. It's a win-win for them. They stay in power and create a line of strong warriors they can keep under their thumb. Very few people see through the tricks... and for some, it isn't until it's far too late."
"My parents were among the few who knew their true nature," I explained. "Growing up, they made sure I knew it, too. They wanted to ensure I was awake to the lies before it was time for me to go." Kayden stiffened, his voice cracking like a whip. "If they knew, why didn't they just take you and run? Why not go into hiding?" A dry, humorless chuckle escaped me. I don't know why his frantic concern brought me joy, but it did. "And where would they go? The whole world knows their faces—humans and shifters alike. By then, they'd already built the multi-million-dollar company the world knows today. There's probably no one on Earth who hasn't heard of them."
I felt his grip tighten, and I leaned into him. "Even if they could hide, you don't understand the extent of the elders' influence. It isn't just one village here or there; they have strongholds scattered across every country, in almost every state. Think of it like wolf packs—multiple territories run by different Alphas—except our elders are a unified council. They may run different facilities, but they work together like a perfectly calibrated, cruel killing machine." I looked toward the dark tree line, seeing shadows where I once saw peace. "Trust me, it's rare to evade their eyes for long. Very few have ever managed it, and those who do..." I trailed off. "They don't usually survive long after the council realizes they're missing." I drew in a breath to continue the tale, but Kayden cut me off, his voice tight. "What do you mean, they 'don't survive'?"
"Think about it this way," I said, my voice dropping to a haunting whisper. "Say a parent manages to evade the council until their child reaches adulthood. When they are finally caught, the parent is banished—but so is the child. The elders can't risk someone who grew up with 'outside' ideals mingling with those already under their thumb. They can't stand the thought of losing control or the unrest a free mind might cause. So, they cast the child out, too." I felt him stiffen, but I didn't stop. "But then, months or maybe a year later, those people disappear off the face of the earth. They vanish... only to reappear a few days later, dead."
I felt Kayden's heart hammering against my back, but I pushed forward. "Our theory is that they don't just banish them; they release them into the world and send a shadow to watch. They wait until the perfect moment to recapture them in secret. I'm certain they torture them first—extracting every detail of how they stayed hidden for so long—before killing them and dumping the bodies where they're sure to be found. They want it reported. They want the public to see the consequences, even if it doesn't look like their handiwork. It's a message: No one escapes twice." A low, primal growl vibrated through Kayden's chest, a sound of pure disgust. "I don't understand how anyone could be that cruel."
"Me too. But it's the way it is, whether it's right or not." I let out a long breath. "Honestly, if it had been up to my mother, she probably would have run anyway, despite the risks. But my father was always the voice of reason; he talked her out of it every time."
"But wouldn't you have preferred to stay with them?" Kayden asked, his voice thick with confusion.
"Of course I would have," I said without hesitation. "But at what cost? It's hard enough for them to hide in plain sight with their faces on every news cycle. If we were found, I'd lose them forever. That's why they never wanted children—not unless the world changed, or the power of the Elders broke."
Kayden shifted behind me. "If they didn't want children, then... how are you here? I thought tiger shifters were like us. If a wolf doesn't want to conceive, she just shifts back and forth. The process is too violent, too taxing for the body to sustain a new life. It shouldn't be possible." I nodded, the weight of my own existence feeling like a heavy shroud. "Normally, you're right. But apparently, I'm the exception. I managed to survive despite my mother shifting nearly every day—specifically to ensure she wouldn't bear a child. She didn't even know I existed until the moment she went into labor... right in the middle of a hunt."
"A hunt?"
"A hunt is similar to the pack runs you hold during the full moon," I explained. "The only difference is the annual event the Elders hold. It's a test to ensure no one has lost their edge—to prove we are still 'perfect' warriors. But even without the Elders' supervision, most tigers hold them on their own when we get together, just for the joy of it." I felt him nod against me. "So your mother gave birth to you during one of those hunts."
It was more of a statement than a question, but I nodded anyway. "Yes. She gave birth to me on the shore of a lake, right beneath the light of a full moon. That's why she calls me her gift from the moon. Her little angel. And how I got my name, Artemis." Kayden let out a soft, warm chuckle. He leaned down, pressing his lips to my forehead in a lingering kiss. "That's really sweet," he murmured.
My heart swelled at the tenderness of his touch. A genuine smile pulled at my lips, and for a moment, the fear faded. "It is. My mother is one of the kindest people I know." "I would love to meet her then," I said, the words slipping out before I could weigh them. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until she finally spoke. "Yeah," she whispered. "Maybe one day." Hope blossomed in my chest at those three words. Maybe. Maybe I actually had a chance to convince her to stay.
"I'm sure if it had been feasible, she would have hidden me away the moment I was born," she continued, her voice drifting. "But as I said, there were others with her that night. They saw her give birth; the secret was out before I even took my first breath. Hiding me was no longer an option. Still, I treasure those ten years I had with them before I was whisked away to the village. They visited as often as they were allowed, and I'll always hold onto that." I frowned, a new wave of confusion hitting me. "Didn't you go home for the holidays? Or vacations? Like a normal school?"
I shook my head, a bitter smile touching my lips. "No. Once you're brought there, you stay until you reach adulthood. It's run exactly like a prison. Even if you're lucky enough to have parents who love you, their visits are strictly monitored and incredibly rare. You only get your freedom back once you're an adult; then, you're allowed to go home or go anywhere else in the world." I felt him stiffen beneath me, his muscles turning to stone. "I see," he said, his voice clipped and tight. We sat in a heavy silence for a moment while he processed the reality of my childhood. I let him sit with it, the only sound between us being our synchronized breathing. Finally, he spoke again. "And what did you do after you aged out of that bizarre facility?"
"That's a good question," I said, relaxing into him. "It was probably exactly what you'd expect. I went home and spent every possible second with my parents, making up for lost time. After that, I went to a great college—one my parents insisted on paying for." I felt him nod, his chest a steady warmth against my back. "Is that when you decided to become a teacher?" I chuckled softly. "Amelia must have told you." I felt the vibration of his own chuckle through his chest. "She did. I hope you don't mind." I shook my head, my hair brushing his chin. "No, I don't mind at all."
He wrapped both arms around me, pulling me into a tight, protective squeeze as he rested his chin on the crown of my head. "Good. I'm glad. She also made sure to brag about what an incredible chef you are—mostly in a very successful attempt to make me jealous that she got to taste your cooking before I did." I raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk playing on my lips. "Oh, really? And did she succeed? In making you jealous, I mean?" A loud, genuine laugh rumbled through him. "Is it a bad thing if I say yes? I was hoping I'd be the first to try anything you made, considering I'm your mate."
My heartbeat quickened at the possessive edge in his voice, and a wide smile curved my lips. "No, it's not a bad thing at all. It's actually kind of adorable. But if it makes you feel better, I'll make you a promise: you can be the second person to ever test my cooking, and I won't cook for a single soul until you've had your fill. Does that make it better?" He began to nuzzle the sensitive skin of my neck, his nose grazing my pulse point. My heartbeat kicked into high gear, the mate bond sparks intensifying until they felt like a live wire between us.
I closed my eyes, tilting my head back to give him better access as I leaned into the sensation. "Hmmm," he murmured, his voice dropping into a husky vibration against my skin. "Only if you promise that from now on, I'm the first person to taste anything you make." I couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled up at his stubborn, childish streak of jealousy. "Okay, fine. I promise you'll be the first to try every dish I prepare from here on out. Happy?" He let out a low, satisfied mmh in response. He didn't pull away; instead, he began to press slow, lingering kisses along the curve of my neck. I felt my eyes flutter shut, my entire body humming with the pleasure of his touch.
"I thought you wanted to talk?" I managed to get out, though my voice was already starting to fail me. He didn't stop. Between slow, deliberate kisses, he murmured, "We are talking." I rolled my eyes, though my breath was hitching. "This isn't talking, Kayden. This is you trying to start something we can't finish." In response, he nipped the sensitive cord of my neck. My eyes snapped shut, and I gripped his arm, my nails digging into his skin as a wave of pure pleasure crashed over me. I felt him smirk against my skin, clearly satisfied with my reaction, before he continued his assault.
"Kayden..." I breathed. It was meant to be a protest, but the raw desire in my voice betrayed me. I knew he heard it—he lived for it. He finally pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were dark, swirling with an intensity that made my breath catch. "God," he rasped, his voice thick with hunger. "You are so beautiful." The second the words left his lips, he crashed his mouth against mine. The contact was explosive; my desire for him surged upward like a geyser, hot and uncontrollable. Within seconds, his tongue was teasing my lips, demanding entry—a permission I granted without hesitation.
I could feel him hardening beneath me, his heat pressing firm against me as I shifted on his lap. My fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him closer, desperate to anchor him to me as the mate bond set my blood on fire. His hand slid upward, his palm finding the curve of my breast and squeezing firmly, claiming me. I knew we had to stop. I knew it, yet my body was screaming for the opposite. I forced myself to pull back, gasping for air, but Kayden didn't let go. He immediately began trailing a path of fire down my neck with his lips while his hand stayed busy, his thumb grazing my hardening nipple through the fabric.
"Kayden," I breathed, my voice thick with a want I could no longer hide. He pinched the sensitive peak, dragging a broken moan from my throat. "God, I love the way you say my name," he rasped, his voice dropping into a dark, primal register. He shifted slightly beneath me, a deliberate move that caused him to rub right against the core of my desire. I arched against him, another helpless moan escaping me. "God... Kayden, please."
God, I wanted her. Hearing her moan my name in that breathless, broken way was driving me straight to the edge of insanity. Any shred of restraint I had left snapped. I gave up on her neck and crashed my mouth back against hers, devouring her. My hand hiked up, sliding beneath the hem of her sweater. I needed to feel her—really feel her. Her skin was like silk, and her breast felt so goddamn perfect in my palm as I squeezed, molding her to me. She squirmed against my lap, her body seeking more, and the friction nearly undid me. I found the budding peak of her nipple with my thumb, rolling it back and forth before giving it a sharp, demanding pinch. She let out a ragged moan against my lips, and the sound hit me like a physical blow to the chest.
I was losing the battle. I knew that if I didn't stop Kayden right now, I would lose myself in the sensation—and I'd lose every ounce of reason I had left. But stopping was agony when every fiber of my being wanted him just as badly as he wanted me. Then, I felt his hand slide down, moving past my stomach toward the waistband of my pants. The sensation was like a bucket of ice water being poured over my head. Reality rushed back in, cold and unforgiving. I snapped my hands onto his shoulders, bracing myself as I shoved us apart just enough to break the spell. He looked completely taken aback, his eyes dark and clouded with lingering lust as he stared at me in confusion. His hands stayed where they were, but he didn't push. "Stop," I breathed, my voice trembling as I tried to regain my composure. "Kayden, we have to stop."
She kept her head down as she spoke, her chest still heaving from the heat of the moment. Even now, with her pushing me away, she looked absolutely perfect to me. I couldn't help the small, soft smile that touched my lips. I reached out, gently catching her chin with my fingers and tilting her face up so I could see her eyes. I pressed a lingering, tender kiss to her forehead before resting my forehead against hers. Surprise flickered across her features, her eyes widening slightly at my restraint. "Okay," I murmured, my voice still a little rough but steady. "We'll stop. I'm sorry... I let my instincts get the better of me. I'll be more mindful, I promise. I want to respect your wishes, always." The tension in her shoulders finally dissolved. She offered me a genuine, relieved smile as she leaned back slightly. "Okay. Thank you, Kayden. I really appreciate that."
His gentle smile made my heart skip a beat, and for a second, I thought he was going to say something more. But then, his steel-gray eyes glossed over—the telltale sign of a mind-link. When the glow returned to his gaze, he focused back on me and smiled. "It appears Mia has dinner ready. She's waiting on us back at the house, so we should probably get moving." I nodded, adjusted my sweater, and asked, "Did she cook it herself?"
Kayden let out a sharp snort. "God, no. Thank the Moon, because she truly can't cook. If you want to live to see tomorrow, don't eat anything she makes. I did it once, and I still have nightmares about it." He actually shivered, a visible shudder of horror running through his frame as if the memory alone was enough to traumatize him. I raised an eyebrow, feeling a bit skeptical. Surely it couldn't be that bad? But I kept the thought to myself; I hadn't experienced Mia's culinary "talents" yet, so I wasn't about to argue with a survivor.
I watched her shrug before she stood up, the loss of her weight leaving me feeling cold. I instantly missed her warmth, my body already aching for the sensation of her pressed against me. I shook the feeling off and climbed to my feet, finally taking in our surroundings. It felt as if I was seeing the park for the first time since I'd found her lying on this bench. The sun had nearly finished its descent, plunging the world into a deep twilight. We were surrounded by almost total darkness now, save for the distant glow of the pack buildings and the amber hum of a nearby streetlamp. It didn't matter, of course. For our kind, the dark was never an obstacle—our night vision would guide us back as easily as the midday sun.
I reached out and caught her hand, intertwining our fingers. She looked up at me and smiled—a look so genuine it made my heart skip a beat. God, she was beautiful. I began leading us back toward the house, but I made sure to keep our pace slow. I wanted to savor this—the quiet of the night, the cool air, and the feeling of her hand in mine.
We had barely reached the porch when the door swung open. Mia was standing there as if she'd been hovering by the glass, waiting for our return. Her gaze dropped to our joined hands, and a knowing smirk spread across her face. She looked like she'd won a bet she hadn't even placed. "Dinner is on the table," Mia announced, her tone far too innocent. "I figured we could all eat together tonight. It could be nice, don't you think?" I shrugged, but I didn't answer for us. I turned to Artemis, giving her hand a light squeeze. "What would you like to do?" She met my eyes, her expression softening. "That sounds fine with me. I don't mind." I nodded back to Mia. "Okay. Sounds like a plan."
"Okay, great. Now come on, let's go!" Mia chirped, already disappearing toward the dining room. I caught the amused smirk on Artemis's face as she watched Mia's whirlwind energy, and I felt my heart soften. Seeing them get along so effortlessly was a relief I hadn't realized I needed.
When we entered the dining room, the first thing I noticed was Luca. He was already seated, his presence a stark reminder of everything that had happened. I stole a glance at my mate, but she didn't even bat an eye. She looked at him as if he were just another piece of furniture—utterly inconsequential. I wasn't sure if her coldness was a good sign or a warning, but I decided to roll with it and see how the night unfolded. Mia had clearly orchestrated the seating; she sat next to Luca, leaving the two plates across from them for Artemis and me. It was a blatant move to keep us together at the massive table. The moment I sat, the aroma of the meal hit me. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until the scent beckoned me, urging me to devour every morsel until my wolf was satisfied.
"So," Mia asked, leaning forward with a grin. "How was your training session today?" I had already shoveled a massive spoonful of food into my mouth, so I just shrugged. Mia rolled her eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. "Boys. I swear, they have no social skills." Artemis let out a genuine chuckle at the comment. When our eyes met, she gave me a sweet, private smile that made my heart swell with an almost painful delight.
For the rest of the meal, Mia kept the conversation flowing, making sure to pull both of us in. Luca remained mostly silent, only offering short, quiet answers when Mia addressed him directly. It was a surprisingly pleasant evening—peaceful, even. When the last of the plates was cleared, Mia broke the comfortable silence. "Well, that was lovely, but I am officially stuffed. Does anyone want seconds?" After we all shook our heads, she gave a firm nod. "Good. Then, if no one has any complaints, I really need the two of you in the office. We still have mountains of work to finish, and since someone never returned after training like they were supposed to, there's plenty of catching up to do."
I let out a long sigh and turned to Artemis. "Do you mind? I can skip it if you want me to stay." Mia clicked her tongue in annoyance behind me, but I didn't give a damn what she thought. Artemis simply chuckled, her eyes warm. "Go, Kayden. I'll be just fine on my own." I sighed again, secretly hoping she'd give me an excuse to stay by her side a little longer. Reluctantly, I stood up and pushed my chair in. I leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. "If I don't see you before you go to bed, I'll see you first thing in the morning." She smiled, gesturing toward the door with a playful tilt of her head. "Okay. Now go."
I watched Artemis over my shoulder as I reached the doorway, Luca and Mia at my heels. "Oh no, sweetie," I heard Mia call out. "Leave the dishes; the staff will be by shortly. You don't have to worry about that." Artemis just shrugged, already reaching for a plate. "It's fine, Mia. I like being useful." Mia let out a small sigh but turned back to follow me. Artemis met my gaze one last time, tilting her head toward the hall as if silently ordering me to get to work. I sighed, yielding to her wishes, and stepped into the corridor.
The moment the office door clicked shut behind us, the air changed. The memories of what Artemis had revealed on the bench—the "village," the miracle birth, the Elders—weighed heavily on my mind, and I felt my expression harden into stone. I looked directly at Luca. "Luca, I want you to dig deeper into my mate's background. Everything you can find." Luca's face lit up with a sharp, eager smile, as if he'd been waiting for this exact command. But Mia gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You can't be serious, Kayden. After everything you two just shared, you're going to spy on her?"
"It's not like that, Mia," I snapped, my voice tight. "If there are people out there hunting her, I need to know exactly what we're up against." Luca's smile vanished, replaced by a professional, lethal focus, while Mia's expression shifted from outrage to dawning realization. She leaned against the desk, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "Yeah... I got that feeling, too. Especially when she mentioned not wanting anyone to get hurt because of her. She isn't just running; she's protecting."
I stared at her, stunned. "She told you that, and you didn't think to mention it to me?" Mia just shrugged, casually sinking into the leather sofa. "I figured you'd find out eventually—provided you got your shit together and stopped being such an ass to your mate." I couldn't believe the audacity. "And what if I hadn't? What if I'd kept acting like an 'ass' and she just vanished without a word? What then?" Mia's playful demeanor vanished. She looked at me, her expression turning unnervingly flat, her eyes carrying a weight that felt almost otherworldly. "That wouldn't have happened," she said, her voice dropping into a tone that brooked no argument.
"But what if it did?" I pushed. "Trust me," she repeated, her gaze boring into mine with a chilling certainty. "That would not have happened." A cold shiver traced down my spine. There was something in her eyes that made me drop the subject immediately; it felt like questioning a force of nature. I turned away, trying to shake off the unease. Luca was looking between us, his face a mask of total confusion. "What are you two even talking about?"
I let out a long, weary sigh, the weight of the day finally catching up to me. "Mia can fill you in later. Right now, we have work to do." Luca looked annoyed at being left out of the loop, but I ignored him. I reached for the first sheet of paper from the stack Mia had dumped on my desk, forcing my mind away from my mate and back to the boring, grounding reality of pack logistics.