Page 22 of Accidentally on Purr-pose

Freesia nodded, relief evident in the way her shoulders relaxed slightly. Kenia stepped forward immediately, her natural caretaking instincts engaged.

"Freesia, you should get cleaned up and rest for a bit," Kenia said gently. "And Aldric, let me show you to your room so you can settle in properly."

"That would be appreciated," Aldric replied, adjusting his grip on his bags.

Freesia didn't argue with the suggestion, simply nodding her agreement before heading toward her own guest room. Kenia turned and led Aldric toward another available room with practiced hospitality. As the hallway cleared, Izei found himself alone with Luka.

"You need to tell me everything about Cassian," Izei said firmly.

Luka's jaw tightened, but he nodded with the resolution of someone who'd been expecting this moment. "I can do better than that. I can put you in contact with my brother Angus. He's still Cassian's Gamma, still inside the pride structure. He can give you information I haven't had access to for years."

"We'll wait until tomorrow," he decided. "Freesia should be part of that conversation."

"Agreed," Luka said.

With that understanding established, Luka headed toward his own guest room, leaving Izei alone in the hallway where the afternoon light was beginning to fade into evening shadows. Izei knew he should let Freesia rest. They'd fought for their lives, saved Reth, brought Aldric safely home, and tomorrow would bring another battle—one fought with questions instead of claws. But his feet carried him toward her guest room anyway.

I just want to make sure she's okay, he convinced himself.

But really, he just needed her comfort right now.

NINE

FREESIA

Freesia stood motionless in the center of her guest room, the blanket still wrapped around her naked form like armor against the world outside. Reth's dried blood painted her hands in russet streaks and smaller claw marks along her arms and chest had already begun healing with her shifter abilities. But the adrenaline that had pushed her through the battle, through saving Reth's life, through the tense drive home, had finally abandoned her. And without its protective numbness, everything crashed back at once.

I almost lost everything today. Again.

The thought hit her like a tsunami, sending tremors through her chest. She pressed her bloodstained palm against her sternum, trying to stop the spreading ache, but memories flooded through the cracks in her composure anyway.

Her mother's voice echoing through the burning royal compound three months ago: "Take the Compact and run, Freesia. Don't look back."

Her father's roar of defiance as he faced impossible odds in the main hall.

Sasha's scream, cut short by⁠—

"No," Freesia whispered, her voice breaking on the single word.

She had chosen the Compact over her family that night. Had honored her mother's desperate plea instead of following her heart, which had screamed at her to forget the ancient treaty and save the people she loved most. But she'd been trained since childhood to put duty above personal desire, to understand that the Keeper's responsibility extended beyond her own family to every shifter in Singapore who depended on that four-hundred-year-old promise of peace.

I'm the last Keeper. The only thing standing between peace and unrest.

The weight of that truth, carried alone for three months, suddenly felt impossible to bear. Her knees buckled, sending her crashing to the hardwood floor as sobs tore from her throat with raw, ugly force.

She was tired. So damn tired of running, of pretending strength she didn't feel, of carrying a burden that should have been shared among royal family members instead of resting solely on her shoulders. The Waverly Compact felt like a curse now—a chain binding her to duty while everyone she'd ever loved was gone forever.

I wish there was no Compact. No danger. No constant vigilance.

The treacherous thought only made her cry harder, because wanting to abandon her responsibility meant betraying every sacrifice her family had made. Her parents had died protecting what the Compact represented. Sasha had died because Freesia had chosen duty over love.

She didn't hear the soft knock on her door, didn't register footsteps crossing the room until strong arms wrapped around her trembling form. The scent of sandalwood and rain enveloped her like a protective cocoon, and she knew without looking that Izei had found her at her lowest point.

"I'm here," he murmured against her hair, his deep voice steady and sure. "You're safe now."

Freesia turned in his embrace, clinging to his solid warmth as if he could anchor her to something real. Through the mate bond, she felt his own grief—carefully controlled but still present—and his fierce protectiveness wrapping around her like a shield.

"I didn't save them," she choked out against his chest. "I ran while my family died."