He wouldn’t stop. She knew that now with cold certainty. He would keep hunting until he claimed her by force or someone stopped him permanently.
But she wasn’t facing that reality alone anymore.
Rune’s breathing shifted behind her, subtle but unmistakable. His arms tightened fractionally around her waist as he woke, and she felt the exact moment his consciousness engaged fully—the slight tension that meant he was assessing, checking, ensuring her safety through whatever supernatural senses the mate bond provided.
“You’re awake,” he murmured against her hair, his voice rough with sleep but immediately alert. “How are you feeling?”
She turned in his arms to face him, taking in the concern etched across his features even in the dim morning light.
“Better,” she said, surprised to find it was true. “Having you here... it makes everything feel less impossible.”
Something shifted in his expression—relief mixed with fierce protectiveness. His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing across her skin with reverent gentleness.
“We need to talk about next steps,” he said, his tone carefully neutral despite the Alpha authority that thrummed beneath the surface. “I can stay here with you as long as it takes to find Tyr. Forrest can cover my sheriff duties. Or you can come to my place where the security measures are tighter. Or I can maintain my regular schedule and have Forrest on constant patrol here.”
The fact that he was giving her options instead of simply deciding what was best made her chest tighten with emotion. Every choice acknowledged her agency, her right to determine how her life would unfold even in the face of danger.
“I want to stay here,” she said without hesitation. “I need to keep writing, try to maintain some normalcy. But...” She met hiseyes directly. “I’d like you to stay with me, if you can take that hiatus from your duties. I don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” The decisiveness in his voice was absolute, no trace of reluctance or sacrifice. “Your safety and comfort are my top priority. And your writing—“ His expression softened. “Seeing you inspired... it makes me feel like I’m doing something right.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, the words carrying the weight of everything she couldn’t yet say about trust and partnership and the terrifying hope that maybe, just maybe, she deserved this kind of love.
“Let me make breakfast this time,” Electra blurted out, pushing herself up from the warmth of his arms. The simple offer felt monumental—a gesture toward normalcy in the chaos Tyr had brought into their world.
Rune’s hand caught hers before she could fully rise. “Only if I can help.”
The quiet authority in his voice made her pulse skip, but it wasn’t demanding. It was... partnership. Something she’d never experienced with any man before—the desire to share tasks rather than take them over or abandon them entirely.
They dressed in comfortable silence, Electra pulling on jeans and a soft sweater while Rune retrieved a spare shirt from the overnight bag he’d brought. Watching him move through her space with such natural ease sent warmth curling through her chest. He belonged here somehow, made it feel more complete.
In the kitchen, they fell into an unexpected rhythm. Rune retrieved eggs from the refrigerator while she started coffee, their movements coordinating without discussion. When she reached for the skillet, he was already there with butter. When he needed a bowl for scrambling, she handed it to him before he could ask.
The intimacy wasn’t sexual—though awareness still hummed between them. This was something deeper and more grounding. Domestic. Real. The kind of partnership she’d written about but never believed existed outside fiction.
“Tell me about your books,” Rune said as he whisked eggs with methodical precision. “Your favorite Alpha characters.”
Electra laughed, pulling bread from the cabinet for toast. “You want to hear about my fictional boyfriends while we’re cooking breakfast together? That’s either very confident or slightly masochistic.”
His mouth quirked up at the corner. “I’m curious how close I come to your ideal.”
The casual arrogance in his tone made her stomach flutter. God, he really was every fantasy she’d ever written, wasn’t he? Strong, protective, commanding, but with this underlying gentleness that made her feel cherished rather than dominated.
“Well,” she said, buttering the pan as it heated, “there’s Max from my Moonlight Pack series. He’s this brooding Alpha who thinks emotions are weakness until his mate shows him otherwise. Very tortured and dramatic.”
“Tortured and dramatic,” Rune repeated dryly. “Noted.”
“Then there’s Kyle from my latest trilogy. He’s more... controlled. Methodical. The kind of Alpha who plans everything three moves ahead and never loses his temper.” She glanced at him sideways. “Sound familiar?”
Rune poured the eggs into the hot pan, his movements precise and measured. “I don’t plan everything.”
“Really? Because you’ve had Forrest on patrol routes, security measures mapped out, and backup protocols in place since yesterday afternoon.”
“That’s different. That’s keeping you safe.”
The simple statement hit her harder than any grand romantic declaration could have. He wasn’t trying to impressher or prove his devotion. Protecting her was just... what he did. Who he was.
They soon sat at her small dining table with plates of perfectly scrambled eggs and toast, the morning light streaming through the windows making everything feel golden and possible.
