Chapter Forty

The night was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth as Briar stalked through the trees, her heart pounding with frustration. The heated conversation with Kade still rang in her ears, his words sharp-edged and cutting in a way that had burrowed beneath her skin.

She had questioned his decision in front of the pack—challenged him. She hadn’t meant for it to come across as defiance, but the moment the words left her mouth, she knew she had overstepped.

The way Kade had gone still, the golden flicker of his wolf flashing in his dark eyes, had sent a thrill of something both dangerous and exhilarating through her. He hadn’t snapped at her in front of the others, hadn’t let his authority waver, but the air between them had been charged.

Now, she could hear him following.

She turned sharply, her back hitting the rough bark of a tree as Kade’s towering form emerged from the shadows. His jaw was clenched tight, his body coiled with barely restrained energy.

“You walked away from me,” he growled, voice low and dangerous.

Briar forced herself to lift her chin, to meet his gaze despite the way it sent shivers down her spine. “I needed air.”

“You needed to run,” Kade corrected, his steps slow, predatory. His presence consumed the space between them, pressing against her like a tangible force.

Briar swallowed hard, refusing to let her pulse betray her. “You were furious,” she pointed out.

Kade exhaled sharply through his nose, his hands flexing at his sides. “Of course I was furious, Briar. You challenged me—in front of them.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

His palm slapped against the tree beside her head, caging her in. “But you did.” His voice was rough, thick with the weight of his dominance.

The air between them crackled. She should have felt afraid—hell, maybe a part of her was. But beneath the sharp edge of his anger was something else, something darker and charged, something that set her blood on fire.

She dragged in a breath. “You don’t scare me, Kade.”

He let out a low, humorless chuckle, his other hand coming up to rest at her throat—not squeezing, just holding, just enough pressure to remind her exactly who he was. “I should,” he murmured.

Her breath hitched.

His fingers tightened fractionally, his body pressing closer, his scent wrapping around her like heat and wildfire. “You drive me insane, Briar,” he muttered, his forehead nearly touching hers. “You challenge me, push me, and I—” His words cut off, a growl rumbling deep in his chest.

She swallowed beneath his grip, her lips parting, but she didn’t look away. She never would.

“I push you because I believe in you,” she whispered.

Something flickered in his gaze, something raw and unguarded. And then he was kissing her—fierce, consuming, punishing in the way his lips claimed hers.

Briar gasped against his mouth, her hands finding the solid heat of his chest as his grip on her throat slid to the back of her neck, pulling her deeper into him. There was no hesitation, no holding back. It was fire and fury, dominance and surrender, all tangled together in a breathless, heady mix.

His body pressed her harder against the tree, the rough bark biting into her back, but she barely felt it. All she could feel was Kade—the heat of him, the way he moved against her like he needed this as much as he needed to breathe.

When he finally tore his mouth from hers, his breathing was ragged, his forehead pressing to hers.

“You test every ounce of my control,” he rasped.

Briar’s lips curled, her fingers tightening in his shirt. “Good.”

His growl was both a warning and a promise, his grip tightening before he pulled her into him once more.

And just like that, the fight between them was forgotten—lost in the wildfire that had always burned between them.

The cabin was quiet except for the rhythmic crackle of the fire in the hearth, casting flickering light across the wooden walls. Briar stood near the window, arms crossed, her mind still reeling from the intensity of what had just happened between her and Kade. Her skin was still warm from his touch, her lips swollen from his kiss, but beneath the haze of passion, something darker lingered.

She had pushed him, but he had pushed back—and hard.

She wasn’t afraid of Kade. She never had been. But tonight, she had seen the depths of his temper, the razor-sharp edge of his control threatening to slip. And a part of her—perhaps the wildest part—had thrilled in it.

She heard his footsteps before she felt him, his warmth at her back as he approached. He didn’t touch her, not yet.

“You’re quiet,” he noted, voice low and measured.

Briar exhaled, pressing her fingers to the cool glass. “So are you.”

She felt the tension in him, the restraint. Kade was never one to hesitate, never one to second-guess himself. But now? Now, it was like he was unsure of what came next.

Finally, he stepped closer, his hands coming to rest on her arms. His touch was gentler than before—tentative, almost. “Did I hurt you?”

The words were so soft, so unlike the feral dominance he had exuded earlier, that her chest ached. She turned in his hold, searching his face.

“No,” she admitted. “But you scared me.”

Something flickered in his expression—regret, maybe. “That wasn’t my intention.”

“I know.”

Kade swallowed, his fingers tightening around her arms, as if grounding himself in her presence. “You challenge me, Briar. In ways no one ever has.”

A small smile ghosted over her lips. “And you think that’s a bad thing?”

His smirk was wry. “No. I think it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But it also means I have to be better. For you.”

Warmth spread through her chest, chasing away the lingering uncertainty. “You don’t have to be better, Kade. You just have to be you.”

His expression darkened, something raw in his gaze. “You say that now, but there are parts of me that aren’t gentle, Briar.” His hand cupped her jaw, his thumb tracing over her cheekbone. “Parts that are possessive, demanding. That need you in ways I don’t even have words for.”

Her breath hitched, a familiar heat coiling low in her belly. “Then show me.”

His restraint snapped like a frayed thread.

One second, he was staring at her with smoldering intensity. The next, he had her pinned against the window, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was equal parts apology and promise.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was scorching, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her flush against him as if he could fuse them together. Briar gasped against his lips, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding on as he devoured her.

This—this was what they were. Fire and friction. Strength and surrender.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead pressed against hers, his breathing ragged, he whispered, “I’ll always protect you, Briar. Even from myself.”

She smiled, brushing her lips against his. “I don’t need protection from you, Kade. I need you.”

His answering growl sent shivers down her spine.

And as he lifted her effortlessly, carrying her toward the bedroom, she knew there would never be a moment between them that wasn’t intense, wasn’t consuming.

And she wouldn’t have it any other way.