Chapter 15
Kael’s POV
I had never been more aware of a door in my life. The heavy oak barrier between us and the rest of the pack house wasn’t just a door tonight it was a wall, a fortress, a damn lifeline keeping every other male in this building away from her. The lock clicked once, twice, three times. My hand lingered on the handle for an extra second, making sure. My wolf growled approval, the sound rumbling in my chest. Good. They can smell her, but they can’t have her. I need to keep her out of their reach. Her scent was still there, flooding my quarters like warm smoke. No matter how many times I breathed it in, it hit me the same way sharp, sweet, dangerous. The heat in it tugged at every instinct I had, the alpha in me bristling at the thought of anyone else even imagining it.
Evelyn stood near the center of the room, arms wrapped loosely around herself. She looked small in the expanse of my quarters, the low firelight throwing soft shadows over her flushed cheeks. Her breathing was steadier now than in the cell, but I could still see the way heat lingered in her eyes, in the tiny shifts of her body like she was trying to ease a tension she couldn’t name. I moved past her without speaking, crossing to the far wall where the weapons rack sat. Not because I needed them if anyone tried to get through that door, I wouldn’t be using steel. I just needed the ritual of checking everything, of making sure no weakness existed between her and the outside. Behind me, I felt her eyes follow every step I took.
“You’ are making sure it’s safe?” she asked, her voice soft.
I turned my head slightly, meeting her gaze. “Safe from them,” I said, voice low. “From the ones who smelled you earlier.”
Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, then pressed together again. She didn’t argue. She didn’t need to I could see in the quick flick of her eyes to the door that she knew exactly why I was doing this.
I moved back toward her, slow enough to make her aware of my approach. My wolf pushed closer to the surface with every step, his attention locked on her like a predator tracking prey and my cock already budging out
I stopped in front of her, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off her skin. “You’re not leaving this room until I say so. No one’s coming in. Not my lieutenants. Not the healer. No one.”
Her brows drew together, but she didn’t step back. “Even if I.
“Even if,” I cut in, my voice sharper than I meant it to be.
Silence stretched between us. Her scent pressed against me with every breath, making the space feel smaller, tighter.
I broke the moment by stepping around her to the desk in the corner. “Sit,” I said over my shoulder. “You need to eat.”
Her footsteps were hesitant, but she obeyed, lowering herself onto the edge of my bed instead of the chair. My wolf approved closer to me. Closer to my scent. I set a tray on the low table: roasted meat, bread, a pitcher of water. Nothing fancy, but enough to keep her strength up. I didn’t want her fainting in the middle of the night not when her scent already had my self-control hanging by a thread. She reached for the bread, fingers brushing mine. A spark jumped between us. My wolf snarled softly in my head, urging me to close the gap. I didn’t. Barely.
“You’re watching me eat,” she said after a moment, a small frown tugging at her lips.
“Yes,” I said simply.
Her gaze flicked up. “Why?”
“Because I can.”
That shut her up, but her cheeks warmed, and the sight hit me harder than it should have. I stayed standing while she ate, my arms folded, my shadow falling across her. Every movement she made drew my eyes: the way her throat worked when she swallowed, the tiny flex of her fingers around the bread, the shift of her knees as she adjusted her seat. My wolf purred with quiet satisfaction.
She’s not running. She’s not fighting. She’s staying right here.
When she finished, I took the plate from her hands, setting it aside. “You need rest,” I said.
Her gaze slid to the bed she was sitting on, then back to me. “And where will you sleep?”
“I won’t.”
“You’re going to stay up all night?”
“Yes.”
“To watch me?”
“To guard you,” I corrected, though the truth was both.
Her lips pressed together again, like she was weighing whether to push me on it. In the end, she just nodded once.
I moved to the far side of the room, near the door, leaning against the wall with my arms folded. From here, I could see everything her, the bed, the window, the door. My wolf settled just enough for me to breathe. For a while, the only sound was the fire crackling in the hearth and her quiet shifting on the bed. But my focus never slipped. She lay down eventually, curling on her side, facing me. The blanket pulled up to her chin didn’t hide the faint glow in her cheeks or the way her breathing still held a faint edge of heat. Go to her. I ignored it. She’s yours. She wants you close.
My jaw tightened. My wolf wasn’t wrong. The way her eyes stayed half-open, the way her fingers curled in the blanket it was as if she was waiting for me to move. An hour passed. Maybe two. I didn’t bother counting. Every flicker of movement from her drew my gaze like a magnet. She shifted again, pushing the blanket lower, and the air between us thickened. I pushed off the wall. Slow steps carried me across the room until I was standing beside the bed, looking down at her. Her eyes opened fully, locking on mine.
“You’re not sleeping,” I said.
“Neither are you,” she murmured.
“I told you. I’m not going to.”
Her lips curved in the faintest hint of something challenge, maybe. “Then you might as well sit.”
It was a bad idea. A terrible idea. But I lowered myself to the edge of the bed anyway.
Her scent hit me harder this close, wrapping around my senses until it was all I could taste. I leaned forward slightly, bracing one hand on the mattress beside her.
She didn’t move away. Minutes stretched. Neither of us spoke. The fire burned lower, shadows crawling across the walls. I stayed there, watching her, my wolf humming with quiet, dangerous contentment.
When her breathing finally evened out, I didn’t move back to the wall. I stayed right there, within arm’s reach, my gaze fixed on her until the first light of dawn began to touch the edges of the curtains. Because if I moved, even for a moment, someone might try to take her. And that was never going to happen.