He sighs, recognizing dismissal when he hears it. “Just… consider that maybe it’s time to let someone else carry some of your burdens.”
After he leaves, I slump in my chair, rubbing my temples against the headache building behind my eyes. Every conversation lately seems designed to poke at wounds I’ve spent years learning to ignore.
The pack needs me focused,I remind myself.Not be distracted by impossible wants.
But as I work through patrol schedules and reconnaissance plans, my mind keeps drifting to copper hair and golden eyes, to gentle hands and a voice that kept me sane in the darkness.
Two doors down,my wolf whispers.He’s two doors down the hall.
I know exactly where Kier is at any given moment—an awareness that’s grown stronger since our escape. It’s as if some invisible thread connects us across space. When he’s in the training yards, I can feel the pull southward. When he’s in the guest quarters, it’s a warm pressure to the east.
Mate bond,my wolf insists, but I push the thought away.
There’s been no claiming ceremony to judge if he’s my mate. And there won’t be—not for me.
The sun sets while I work, the council chamber growing dim around me. I switch on the lights, determined to finish the shift schedules before I rest. The work is familiar and comforting.
A soft knock interrupts my concentration.
“Come in,” I call, expecting one of my security chiefs with an update.
Instead, Levi enters carrying a tray of food. “You missed dinner,” he says, setting it on the table beside my papers. “I brought you something.”
The gesture is thoughtful, but his presumption grates. “Thank you, but I can feed myself.”
“When you remember to,” he says, pulling up a chair close to mine. Too close. “You’ve been pushing yourself since you returned. It’s not healthy.”
I set down my pen deliberately. “Levi, we need to discuss something.”
“Of course.” He shifts closer, his knee pressing against mine. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you as well.”
“Have you?” I lean back, putting distance between us. “Because I get the impression you’ve been doing more than talking. You’ve been hovering.”
His brow furrows. “I’ve been supporting you. After what you’ve been through?—”
“What I’ve been through was imprisonment and torture,” I say flatly. “I know exactly what I’ve been through because I was there. I don’t need a keeper.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to be.” His hand reaches for mine, and I pull it away. “Lithia, I care about you. More than I think you realize.”
“I realize perfectly well what you think you feel,” I say carefully. “But it doesn’t change anything.”
“Doesn’t it?” He leans forward, intensity radiating from every line of his body. “I searched for you every day. Every. Single. Day.” His voice cracks slightly. “Do you have any idea what it did to me, thinking you were dead?”
The raw pain in his words makes my chest ache, but I can’t let sympathy weaken my resolve. “I’m grateful for your efforts. Truly. But?—”
“I love you,” he interrupts, the words hanging between uslike a bridge I’m not willing to cross. “I’ve loved you for years. I thought maybe now that you’ve seen how precious life is, how quickly it can be taken… maybe you’d be willing to consider?—”
“No.” The word comes out harder than I intend, but I don’t soften it. “Levi, you’re pack. You’re family. But that’s all you’ll ever be.”
His face cycles through hurt, anger, disbelief. “Because of him, isn’t it? The nomad.”
“This has nothing to do with Kier.”
“Doesn’t it?” Levi stands abruptly, beginning to pace. “I’ve seen how you look at him. How you respond when his name comes up.”
“That’s enough,” I say sharply, rising to face him. “My personal decisions are not your concern.”
“Everything about you is my concern,” he fires back. “You think I don’t know you? I’ve watched you hold yourself apart from everyone for years. And then some random nomad shows up and suddenly?—”
