Caelan’s gaze hardened. “Mates must strengthen the chain, Alara. Not divide it.”
“Then trust me not to shatter it.”
He flinched. Barely, but I caught it.
Silence stretched before he spoke again, his voice low and unguarded. “When our parents died, something in me broke. Suddenly, I was alpha, with a whole host of responsibilities. I swore nothing else would slip through my fingers. Especially not you.”
My chest tightened, and I stepped a fraction closer. “I’m not them. And Booker isn’t dangerous. We never would have been tied together if he were.”
“Maybe.” He looked away, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “But I won’t risk you without something more concrete.”
“So you’re keeping him locked up?” I challenged, heat rising under my skin as my lynx pushed me to make him understand. “That’s almost worse than sending him away. I can feel him, Caelan. Every second. He’s right there, and I can’t just ignore that.”
Caelan’s expression wavered, heartbreak flickering at the edges. “If he’s truly your mate, he won’t break from a little restraint.”
“If,” I hissed, planting my fists on my hips. “You may not have found your fated mate yet, but you know exactly why I have no doubt who Booker Redmond is to me. And I’m pretty sure you don’t want me to say it out loud.”
He grimaced at the reminder that his baby sister was experiencing desire for the first time. “This is the only compromise I can offer until I decide on our next steps. For your safety and the chain’s stability.”
I didn’t bow my head and accept his decision like I normally would. Instead, I turned on my heel and stormed away, fury burning hot beneath my skin. But resolve burned hotter.
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
The hallway outside the guest chamber was quieter than before. Two guards stood rigidly on either side of Booker’s door,their expressions blank in the way that meant they were working very hard not to look curious.
As I approached, a soft rumble drifted from behind the wood. A low growl that vibrated with pure longing, tugging at something deep inside me.
My lynx prowled under my skin, restless and frustrated, pressing me toward him while the guards shifted uneasily.
“I’m just passing through,” I murmured.
My feet carried me down the corridor before my brother could reappear and herd me somewhere safe. The walls felt like they were shrinking again, each step making my chest tighter in my lungs. I pushed through one of the side doors into the open courtyard.
The fresh air helped a little, but I still felt him.
A sudden flicker of movement from above caught my eye. Booker stepped into view in one of the higher windows. Our gazes collided through the glass, and I froze.
The guard near the corner of the building bristled, tension spiking until Booker stepped back into the shadows again. We hadn’t said a word, but I somehow knew he wasn’t fighting back because of me.
My breath shuddered out, and I turned away before anyone could read too much in my expression. I wished my brother understood that fate wasn’t something you could lock behind a guarded door.
I moved toward the edge of the courtyard, my fingers brushing the stone wall as I whispered, “I’m not going to let anyone keep me from my mate.”
The truth settled inside me with startling clarity. A faint tremor ran along my spine, and the hairs along my arms lifted.
I needed to figure out what to do because I wasn’t sure how long I’d last being kept away from my fated mate.
4
BOOKER
The moment I stepped away from the window, my wolf slammed against my ribs hard enough to make my breath hitch. He wanted her back in sight. Close enough that nothing could stand between us. But all we had was the lingering echo of her presence fading down the hall.
I prowled a tight circuit around the room, hoping to burn off some of my wolf’s impatience. The space was more comfortable than I expected after seeing the Nightbriar compound from the outside. But I was still confined, even if my surroundings were civilized.
My wolf paced inside me in sync with my steps, a steady pressure under my skin. His fury wasn’t violent, just absolute. A primal rejection of being kept from our mate.
“Trust me, I’m not thrilled either,” I muttered.
