Chapter 176 Casey's House

Chapter 176 Casey's House
FREYA -

The guards at the Stiller gate didn't open it right away.
Grace stopped beside the call box, and Freya kept her hands folded in her lap while one of the wolves looked through the windshield at her. Mud still sat under her nails, and her hair had dried in uneven waves from the fog at the Stones.
The guard pulled out his phone.
Grace glanced over. “You sure this is where you wanna go?”
“Yes,” Freya said. “I can't be near Sandy right now.”
A minute later, the guard stepped back. “Alpha Stiller says she can go in, but a guard stays with you.”
Freya nodded, though she didn't know if he meant it as permission or warning.
The house felt too quiet when they opened the front door. Other than the guard who stood several feet away, it was just polished floors and an empty house.
She moved through the doorway and followed the pull in her chest that led toward Casey’s room.
Grace followed her upstairs and stopped with her outside Casey’s door. Freya pulled the Vision Stone from her pocket and held it out to Grace.
Even now, she could feel the weight of what it had shown her. Her mother’s face tried to rise behind her eyes, and she forced it back down.
“Can you hold it for me?” Freya asked.
Grace’s brows drew together. “Freya, this belongs with you.”
“No.” Freya looked from the cloth to Grace. “If Jared finds out it exists, he’ll look for it with me. Or Casey. Maybe Eric.” She swallowed. “He won’t look for it with you.”
Grace looked down at the stone for only a moment before her fingers curled around the cloth. “If it answers again, it may need the Stones.”
“Then keep it safe until we can take it back there.”
Grace’s face softened. “Want me to stay?”
Freya shook her head. “I need to be alone for now.”
They both looked over at the guard who was standing with his hands behind his back as he pretended to look at anything but them.
“There’s gonna be a guard at the stairs.” Grace said it loud enough for him to hear, and he looked over.
“Okay.” Freya murmured.
Grace hesitated only one more second before she hugged the stone closer and walked back down the hall.
The front door closed, and the house settled around Freya as she moved into Casey's room.
For the first time since the Stones, she was alone.
She went into Casey’s bathroom and turned the shower hot enough to steam the mirror. Mud ran brown around her feet, and she washed the grass from her knees, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, none of it touched the place where Jared’s voice still sat, or the place where grief had curled tight inside her chest.
When she finally stepped out, her body felt too clean and too raw.
She put her shirt back on, but when the cotton touched her skin, it felt wrong. Freya pulled it off before she could talk herself out of it.
Casey’s shirt hung over the back of his chair. She reached for it with shaking fingers and dragged it over her head.
It fell loose around her shoulders and immediately enveloped her in his scent. Her eyes burned, and she hated how quickly her body softened into it.
She curled onto his bed with damp hair against his pillow and let herself miss him.
Somewhere beyond the house, Casey’s focus moved like a storm, and she could tell that he was trying not to come to her.
She wasn't sure how long she lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness.
Then the Mate bond grew thick and full, and Freya's eyes flew open.
She sat up before she heard the front door. Footsteps came up the stairs too fast to belong to anyone else, then stopped outside the room.
Her heart pounded hard with anticipation until the door opened, and Casey filled the doorway. His eyes went straight to her.
Then to his shirt hanging loose on her body, and lust suddenly hit the bond, nearly stealing her breath.
For one second, neither of them spoke.
Heat rose under Freya’s skin so fast that her breath caught.
“I can take it off,” she said, her voice sounding too vulnerable for her liking.
Casey’s jaw locked. “Don’t.”
The word moved through the bond, and Freya’s fingers closed on the hem of the shirt, and Casey stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with more control than she thought either of them had left.
His expression shifted, pain and want crossing too close together. “Freya.”
She stood before she could think better of it, and the room seemed smaller when he crossed it. He stopped close enough that his warmth reached her, but not close enough to touch.
“Tell me to stop before I get closer,” he said, swallowing hard.
Freya looked up at him, at the blue of his eyes, and the ache that had followed her all day finally loosened.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
Casey’s hand came to her face, careful at first. Then his mouth was on hers, and the heat waiting under her skin woke all at once. Freya gripped his shirt and kissed him back like she'd been holding her breath since the Stones.
He made a low sound, and the bond opened harder.
For a few seconds, there was no Jared. No Gathering. No dead waiting at the fence. There was only Casey’s hand at her jaw, his arm around her waist, and the way his shirt rubbed against her nipples when he pulled her closer.
Then Casey broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard.
“I need to tell you what Mrs. Hall gave me,” he said, voice rough, “before I forget how words work.”
A shaky laugh slipped out of Freya before she could stop it.
Casey’s thumb moved once against her cheek, and his face sobered. “She had papers from your father.”
Freya went still.
“Records and instructions. Proof he left in case he didn’t come back.” Casey swallowed. “Mrs. Hall kept them hidden because she said bringing them forward too early would have gotten you killed.”
Freya’s hand slipped from his shirt, though the hard line of his body still pressed against her.
“I don't understand. She knew who I was?” Freya asked, even though her hands found his arms and she wrapped them around his biceps.
“Yea.” Casey reached for her hand and turned it until her palm rested over her own heart.
Freya looked toward the papers tucked beneath his arm, tied with faded blue cord.
Casey sat beside her on the bed, close enough that his shoulder touched hers, and placed the bundle between them.
Freya reached for the knot, then stopped, afraid that touching it would make the last piece of her father real. Casey waited for her to decide what to do, his warmth steady beside her, until her fingers finally closed around the faded cord.
For nine years, she'd been lied to. Now her father was about to tell his truth.