by Mason Sabre
He stopped outside and glanced to her window. Her curtains were closed. Just like her.
“Cade?”
The faint whisper on the night made Cade spin and his heart leapt at the crystal-clear sound of Gemma’s voice. He narrowed his eyes and peeked into the darkness that surrounded his land. She was standing to the side to keep herself out of view.
“Gem?” He stepped into the shadows as his heart dared to believe what his eyes were seeing.
She backed up and moved deeper into the darkness, and if he wasn’t a wolf, he’d not see her.
“I had to see you,” she said, her words almost a sob choked with the same pain that mirrored his own. “I couldn’t …”
“I know.” Conscious that their voices would travel up to Natalie, Cade put a finger over his lips to signal Gemma to be quiet. He walked along the side of the house but kept his eyes on Gemma. His wolf rose inside, feeling its tiger in a reachable distance. He couldn’t give into that need … couldn’t give into that craving that was born of everything natural in his mind.
When they were a safe distance away from the house, Cade reached for her. It was an instant reaction, his heart forgetting the hurt and wanting to take what he so desperately craved. He held her hand in his. The emotional spark in his head brought a deep growl to his throat. She wrapped her arms around him and around his neck. The embrace pressed her breasts into him. He could have died there and been happy. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled the sweet, intoxicating scent of her. He closed his eyes, almost unaware of where they were and the danger that lurked close by. It felt so right, so perfect. Just what he needed.
“Gem …”
She whispered something against him. He didn’t catch the words. He wasn't listening. He was lost in his own mind, lost with her there. It was only when she broke away that his mind came back to full consciousness. She didn’t let him go, but the way she looked at him, her expression. He knew exactly how Natalie had felt when she had been the vulnerable one to his words. He was raw, cut open and ready to bleed on the ground at whatever Gemma was about to say.
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes searched his, the deep incandescent green of them alive with her tiger.
He stared at her for a long, confused moment. “It is true then? You have taken a mate?”
“Not like you think. It’s—”
“She has.” A deep voice resonated behind them, cutting off whatever Gemma was about to say. A voice that struck both fear and possessiveness in Cade as Malcolm came into view. Cade slid his arm around Gemma, and she tensed, but he didn’t let her go. “I knew you’d be here.” He shook his head. “As soon as we realised you were missing. I just—”
She angled herself so that her back pressed into Cade and put herself between her father and her wolf. “I needed to see him.”
“And now you have.”
He felt Gemma go to break away from him, and he tightened his hold, his arm around her waist. It was so subtle Malcolm wouldn’t have noticed, but Gemma would. His message was clear, she was his, and he wasn’t letting her go. Not this time.
Malcolm reached into his inside pocket and pulled out sheets of rolled up paper. He handed one to Gemma and didn’t step back. His position forced her to move from Cade.
When she opened the papers, her heart hammered so loudly that Cade could hear it. He could feel it. Her distress was clear from the very moment she read the paper. “No,” she said, glancing up at him. “You can’t.”
Cade didn’t need to see what was on that sheet to know what it was she was reading. He thought he would be afraid, thought he would run, fight it, but standing there, it brought a stillness about him. A stubbornness that wanted to stand for all they had fought for.
“Please …”
“It’s okay,” Cade said. He touched Gemma’s shoulder lightly, hoping to give her some peace inside, but the fear in her expression, it tore at him. At least it was his name on the execution order and not hers.
“There are three copies of that order,” Malcolm said. “One of them you are holding, the other I have, and the third is ready to be issued. This is your choice Gemma, yours alone. Do not force my hand.”
Chapter 23
Natalie
Natalie's mind still spun with the realisation she’d had. She wanted to deny it, but it moved with the clarity of absolute truth—a truth she wanted to understand even though it brought shivers down her spine and made her wolf want to run away and hide. The shiver was so sharp it was like an icy nail trailing along her skin, digging in until she ached. She brought her knees to her chest despite her aching back and leant against the headboard. Her entire body rocked, her mind caught in the throes of her pain, her emotions … her hopes and shattered dreams. All of them in pieces.
It wasn't Cade’s fault; it wasn't. She tried to be angry with him. Tried to place him in that red-hot image in her head where she could focus her mind and beg for him to look at all the broken fragments of her, but it was too hard, too much. She swiped at her already puffy eyes, and ground her jaw painfully tight, trying to make the chattering of her teeth stop. She was not good with upset. It slunk into her, into her pores, along her body in deep cold waves. She could feel emotions—feel them so well it was almost like she could grab them and put them in her pocket.
As a child, sometimes, she’d make herself so upset with what someone else felt that her lips would turn blue. Her father always worried that she would pass out. Sometimes, Natalie wished she could just so she could escape the overwhelming burning sensation that bit along her skin with razor-sharp teeth.
She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose to clear the pressure in her head. It was so filled with dense wool she couldn't even think—couldn't grasp onto any form of logical thought. She was all but ready to burst. It was so daft—so insane. She was crying, over what? A man? Her mate? On paper that was what he was. In the eyes of the DSA and the pack, yes … but really?
The centre of her chest ached with the question, just a whisper on her lips. “Yes,” she mumbled to herself, admitting the truth. “Yes.” To her that was exactly what he was—who he was. She’d let him in, let herself open to him in ways she had never dared. She’d given hope to old childish ideas of love, and then she’d fuelled them with naïve vulnerability and placed everything at Cade’s feet. Not everyone would have the kind of love her parents had. Not everyone would be that lucky, but she had hoped and wished with every part of herself it was possible.
Leaning her head back against the wall above her headboard, she let out a long-drawn sigh, letting it fill her body and push out the tension in every muscle. She had caused this in herself, caused it in both of them.
A beam of light flashed across her window—headlights outside, making her jump. Tyres crunched under gravel and Natalie’s pulse hitched at the sound alone, her wolf, eager, waiting … knowing he was out there and he was home. She held her breath, paused herself and listened for the sounds of him. She could see him in her mind, tall, strong … hers, and she bit into the lower edge of her lip in anticipation. The door of the car opened and then it closed again, and she waited—waited and listened and bit down as she held her breath until her throat burned and her chest ached with it.
He didn’t come in.
She had gone to her own room this evening, to her own bed. She couldn’t sit in his room, in his bed—a bed they had shared for only the briefest of time. The scent of his wolf was too strong, too overpowering that she wouldn't have been able to think. And she needed to. She needed more than just the cravings of her wolf. She awoke to him, roamed inside. Cade made her come alive, and she had dared to put him on a pedestal where her emotions were raw, and her heart was open.
The skin on Natalie's face was taut and dry. It stung with the tears she’d shed, almost like acid along her skin, rich, hot, red, and so filled with pain and hope and every scrap of the dream she had dared to hold close. His name was a whisper against her lips. She could almost taste it—taste
him. Placing her hands over her face, she sucked in a breath. It was Moon Night. Not a night for getting things straight in her head. Already, she could feel the pull of nature against her—feel the call to her wolf. Tonight was supposed to be special. It was supposed to be the night she took her place officially by Cade’s side in front of the entire pack.
Cade still hadn't come inside, but Natalie resisted the urge to go to the window and look out for him. If there wasn't to be a pack run later, she would have assumed that he had gone to shift. If there wasn't a pack run later, she would have gone to shift herself. She would have let her wolf loose, so that, together, they could understand everything that was happening—they could understand and decide about what was next. What they needed to do.
It was a while before the door to the house opened and Cade came inside, and suddenly, without reason, Natalie reached out to the side and flicked off the small lamp on her bedside table. It wasn't dark yet, but it was dull enough and she plunged herself into the darkness of her room. She didn’t want him to see her. Not like this. Not so raw and open and so hurt. Footsteps sounded in the house, then a light switch flicked on and off. She snivelled again, trying to at least compose herself.
His footsteps clumped against the landing at the top of the stairs. Footsteps that were strong, masculine, purposeful. She could almost trace every step Cade took around the house. She could visualise him and knew exactly where he was. He’d stopped outside his room, and Natalie rested her chin on her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs, holding herself in a safe, infallible cocoon.
The door to Cade’s room creaked open slowly and, in her mind, Cade was standing there, side on, his arm outstretched, the door open. He didn't move. She waited for him, almost willed him to step into his room and close the door. Her heart swelled in her chest, ready to burst at the effort of her hope he would just go in there and forget she was in the house. But he didn't. Instead, he walked toward her room and stopped outside her door. Natalie gasped.
He knocked lightly, and Natalie pressed her lips into her knees. She would not answer him. She couldn't. If she spoke, she knew her wolf would somehow be set free and she would go to him. She would push aside the hurt in her mind and take the one thing it wanted.
“Natalie?”
She held herself tighter, safer. She had opened herself up to him and given him her wolf, and he had crushed them both. Maybe he hadn’t meant to. Maybe it hadn’t been on purpose, but the result had been the same. She could hardly get that look from her mind. The one that told her everything she needed to know, and everything she didn't.
He knocked again.
“Natalie? Are you in there?”
The long pause made her chest constrict even more and her wolf tried to defy her, pushing the answer to her mouth so she would call out and answer him. So he would come inside and fix everything he had broken. Everything he had ruined with his non-answer.
The handle turned, and her door opened slowly, spilling light in from the hallway. He didn't open it all the way, just enough to see she was in the room.
“Please don't come in.” With each indrawn breath, her heart galloped and thudded against her ribs. It was as if her body was answering for her, betraying her. Just Cade, that close, across the room. She had to fight to stay on the bed. It was so hard to think, so hard to push him away when every bit of pain swirled around inside her.
Cade held the door just a foot open; his fingers curled around the edges. His head was down, and he leant against the wood. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft, gentle, that part of Cade that she had fallen for. His quiet strength. So many wolves would see it as a weakness, as something to be ashamed of, but both she and her wolf could see the possessive protectiveness inside him. He had honour, integrity.
“I’m fine.” She tried to put as much flatness to her words and take out the sound of what she was feeling, but around him, near him when her wolf was in total command, it was so hard. If he stepped into the room, stepped close, she knew she would be in danger of melting into a pool around him.
Several silent moments passed between them, and all she could do was stare at him, want him. Even though she knew he would never truly be hers. She knew … she had felt him that evening outside, felt the way his wolf had taken her, claimed her. She might not have held all of him, but she had a piece and that was a start. She could work with that. Cade pushed at the door as if he would come in.
“Cade, please,” she blurted, tensing, her mind searching for a place to hide.
He stopped. “I never meant to hurt you.” He stared at her with wolf blue eyes. A gaze that softened her and spoke to something inside her.
“I know.” She gave a nod and then moved off the bed, her hands trembling and her stomach clenching as she walked toward him. She stayed in the shadows of her room, so he couldn't see her, wouldn't see her in the mess she was in, but she went to the other side of the door, keeping the thick piece of wood as a barrier between them—between their wolves. She matched what he did with his hand, clutching the edge of the wood, just under his. Raw heat rose from him, and it wasn't the heat of arousal. No. This was something else, something more. Something so intense that it was filled with the same pain that made her want to reach out to him, comfort him. It made her forget why she had been sitting in her room all afternoon feeling sorry for herself.
For a little while, they stayed as they were with just the sound of their breaths between them, and that was good enough for her. Good enough to remind her that although she hadn’t taken all of Cade, and he hadn’t crossed that glass bridge between them yet, he was still there … still on the other side and the possibility wasn't gone. Surprising her, he slid his hand down to rest over hers and she jolted at his touch—at the feel of his fingers closing around hers.
She stared at them, not moving her hand yet. “Do you want me to leave?” she asked. The question was sharp as it came out, grating its edges in her throat. She didn't want to go, but she also didn't want to stay where she wasn't wanted.
“No,” he said, the word just as sharp, just as strong. “I don't.”
Lacing his fingers through hers, he pulled her hand from the door, pulled her away so that the thing between them was gone. He stepped into the room—into the darkness, and, with a breath, he wrapped his arms around her and she went to him, resting her head against his chest, pressing the side of her face into the hard, solid muscles she could feel under his shirt. He was warm, strong and so very male. A gasp caught in her throat as she clung to him, held on. Their wolves clashed inside, running into each other and seeking comfort from touch. It was the only emotional healing she knew, and it never mattered who the wolf was, there was a connection, a link between pack members that could sooth away almost any pain.
“I promise, I never meant to hurt you,” he whispered to her, pressing his arms tighter around her as if he too was feeling the comfort the touch of her wolf gave. It made her smile inside. Smile because she could reach him. She could have him; it would just take time. She had her head tucked under his chin, her arms around his back.
She nodded against him, and selfishly held on until she felt she was stronger, then she moved only enough so that she could meet his gaze. “Will you talk to me? Help me understand it all?” She felt him tense a little in her hold, but his arms stayed firmly around her. “I can handle things, if you trust me.”
There, with Cade against her, her wolf nestled into his, she could handle anything … she was sure.
His gaze was intense, like he could see inside her, see all of her. “We have a pack run first.”
“And then?” She looked up at him—really looked at him. His expression was tired, gentle, but under it, there was something else, something sad and hurt and locked away for no one to see. But she wanted to see it. She wanted to see all of him, whatever it was. She could handle it.
“Then we can talk.”
Chapter 24
Karl
This was what they meant when
they called someone a fish out of water, Karl thought to himself as he sat in perhaps one of the most perfect lounges he had ever seen. Although, Emily Davies called it the sitting room. Even her words were a higher class than his. It made him want to not speak when she spoke to him and he winced at the feeling of inferiority to his common family.
He sat forward on the leather suite, his legs parted, elbows resting just above his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. His father sat back with ease on the opposite seat, and, Jane, his step-mother, sat perhaps with the most ease of them all, but then she had come from a family like this one. She came from a long line of tigers. She’d just never settled down with a mate before. No one ever wanted a mate who couldn’t produce young.
On the coffee table in front of them all was the paperwork. Files had been signed off and so far, the Preternatural Council had agreed to this union. The formality of it all burned uneasily in Karl’s chest. It didn’t help how he was feeling already, being there, so out of place. It was one thing to know who the Davies family were and even dream of joining them, or what it would be like to be one of them, but to actually sit there with the prospect of joining them was another thing.
“My daughter has signed the papers,” Malcolm began, his eyes flicking from Karl’s to Keith, his father. “We have signed it all, too. It just needs you to do the honours, Karl.”
It all sounded so easy, so simple. Sign … He took the pen from the table, but not the paperwork. He wasn’t buying a damn kitten and signing he would care for it for the next ten years, no, this was his life, Gemma’s life. It was a life heading into maybe one of the most prominent families in the community.
