Chapter 9 Nine

Chapter 9 Nine
Chapter Nine

June's POV

I didn't sleep much.

Not because of fear exactly, but because Cassian's room held his scent so completely that every time I drifted toward sleep my wolf surged forward with a happy sound and jolted me back awake. Elara had never been this present. Even before Adrian broke her down to something small and silent, she had never pressed this close to the surface, this eager, this loud.

I lay on my side watching the window pale from black to grey to the thin cold blue of early morning.

Cassian had stayed until I fell asleep the first time, his hand moving slow and steady through my hair, saying nothing. At some point he had gone. To deal with the camp on the ridge, I assumed. To do whatever Alphas did in the hours when the rest of the world was still.

I got up before full light.

I found clothes folded on the chair by the door. Someone had left them there quietly, a pair of soft trousers and a thick pullover that swam on me but was warm. I dressed and padded down the stairs barefoot, following the smell of coffee.

The kitchen held two pack members I hadn't been introduced to yet. A woman with short copper hair and quick dark eyes who was slicing bread, and a younger male, barely out of his teens, who was eating standing up with the focus of someone who had skipped the meal before this one. They both looked up when I came in.

The woman smiled first. Easy and unhurried. "You must be June. I'm Sera. That one is Finn and he won't talk much until the food is gone so don't take it personally."

Finn lifted a hand without looking up. I felt the corner of my mouth move despite everything.

"Coffee?" Sera asked.

"Please."

She poured without fuss and slid the mug across the counter. I wrapped both hands around it and stood near the window, looking out at the tree line. The pines were heavy with mist. Everything beyond the boundary was still and pale and waiting.

"They're still out there," I said.

"Seven of them." Sera kept slicing. "Finn ran the perimeter at four. Nobody moved."

"Cassian?"

"East side of the territory. He'll be back by full light." She glanced at me sideways. "He checked on you twice before he went out."

I looked down at my coffee.

I didn't know what to do with that information so I simply held it somewhere careful.

Finn finished eating, rinsed his plate with the efficiency of someone raised communally, and left with a nod in my direction. The kitchen felt easier with just Sera. She had a quality that didn't require anything from a room. She simply occupied her space and let you occupy yours.

"How long have you been in this pack?" I asked.

"Eight years. Came from a coastal pack up north. Small, cold, not particularly kind." She shrugged, but it was the shrug of someone who had processed an old thing thoroughly. "Cassian found me at a gathering and offered a place. No conditions attached."

"He does that," I said, then felt strange for saying it like I knew him well.

Sera looked at me without any particular expression. "He does. But he's never brought someone back to the house before." She paused to let that sit. "In eight years, not once."

I didn't answer. Outside the mist shifted and a bird started somewhere in the pines, one flat note and then several quick ones after.

The back door opened and Cassian came through, cold air following him in. He was in dark clothes, damp at the shoulders from the mist, his hair pushed back from his face. His eyes found me immediately, the way they always did, like I was the first thing the room required him to locate.

"You're up early," he said.

"Couldn't sleep late."

He crossed to the coffee and poured a mug, standing close enough that his arm nearly touched my shoulder. I felt Elara lean into the warmth of him even though I hadn't moved.

"Anything change on the ridge?" I asked.

"Two of the seven left an hour ago. Back toward BloodMoon territory." He drank. "Paige is still there. And one of Adrian's senior enforcers."

"Gordan," I said without thinking.

Cassian looked at me.

"He's the one Adrian sends when he wants something brought back in a specific condition." I kept my voice flat. "He's not a messenger. He's a handler."

Something in Cassian's expression tightened almost invisibly. "How do you know what condition Adrian wants you brought back in?"

I looked at my coffee. "Because I know what Gordan was sent to do the last time I tried to leave."

The kitchen was quiet. Sera had gone still at the counter.

Cassian set his mug down with careful deliberateness. "June."

"I'm fine," I said. "It was two years ago. I healed."

"That's not what I was going to say."

I looked up at him. His jaw was tight but his eyes were steady and serious. Not pitying, which I could not have stood. Just present.

"I'm going to need you to tell me everything you know about Gordan," he said. "Not because I'm afraid of him. Because I want to understand exactly what Adrian thinks is going to happen here so I can make sure something entirely different does."

I nodded once.

"After you eat," he added, and pushed the bread Sera had sliced toward me with a quiet certainty that left no room for argument.

I sat down at the long table and Cassian sat across from me, the same way he had in the night, forearms down and eyes patient.

Outside, the mist began to lift.

Inside I started talking, and for the first time the words did not feel like wounds reopening. They felt like something being handed over to someone strong enough to carry the weight of them.