44. Nikolas: With Me
*NIKOLAS*
I grip the steering wheel tightly as I drive Claire to work, the hum of the engine a steady background noise. Even though every cell in my body rebels the idea of leaving her, dropping her off at the library feels like a small concession to give her the sense of normalcy she craves. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes on the road where they’re supposed to be and not straying to where she sits in the passenger seat beside me.
Having her at my house last night was both better and worse than I could have imagined. Better, because I liked having her in my space. I rarely have people over, the Shifter side of me preferring to keep my space free any unfamiliar sights or scents. But Claire…she was different.
The more animalistic parts of myself reveled in having her there, her scent mingling with mine, her belongings scattered with my own. I liked hearing her movements, the quiet rhythm of her breathing, and the soft, steady thudding of her heartbeat from down the hallway. It was comforting in a way I hadn’t expected, a reminder that she was safe, under my protection.
But at the same time, it was worse than I thought it would be. It was nearly impossible to sleep with her so close. The desire to be near her, to make sure she was truly safe, gnawed at me relentlessly. It took every ounce of self-control to keep myself from barging into her room last night, just to see her, to reassure myself that she was really there. To tuck her into my side and not let her go.
It was the best sort of torture. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to every sound she made. The need to be near her, to touch her, to protect her, kept me restless. Eventually, I gave up on sleep altogether and went to the room I’d turned into a small gym to work off the tension. A strenuous workout did little to quell the storm of emotions roiling inside me, but it was better than nothing.
After showering, I decided to make her breakfast. Cooking isn’t something I do often, but it gave me a sense of purpose, a way to channel my restless energy. Seeing her reaction this morning, the way her eyes lit up when she saw the food and the coffee, made it all worth it. It was a small victory, but one I clung to.
Now, as we approach the library, I glance over at her. I pull up to the curb and put the car in park.
“Louisa will be inside with you like yesterday. And there will be guards keeping a close eye on things outside the building. Remember to check in.”
“I will.” She promises.
I open the car door for her and walk her up the library’s walkway. Louisa, her assigned bodyguard, is already waiting at the door, her eyes scanning the area with practiced vigilance. As Claire steps forward to follow her into the building, she pauses and looks back at me, her wide green eyes making me feel a million things I know I shouldn't.
For a brief moment, I’m caught in the intensity of her gaze. Her vulnerability and strength wrapped together in one look. She’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. I want to lean in and kiss her, to feel the hot press of her lips against mine, but I know I shouldn’t. Instead, I settle for a quick, gentle stroke of my fingertips against her cheek. She blinks in surprise, and a barely-there shade of pink colors her cheeks.
"Don’t forget to text," I remind her, my voice huskier than I intended.
She nods, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I won’t. Thank you, Nik.”
I watch her disappear into the building with Louisa, and it takes all my willpower to turn back to my car. Every instinct screams at me to keep her close, to never let her out of my sight. But I know she needs to be in control of her own life. It’s a delicate balance, one that I’m determined to maintain, no matter how difficult it is. Even if it tears me apart to let her out of my sight.
Driving back to the pack office, the familiar route giving me time too much time to think. My mind replaying the conversation we had this morning at the end of breakfast. I hadn’t reacted well when Claire told me she thinks she should finally contact James. To let him know what happened and to tell him where she is.
Her reaching out to James hadn’t even crossed my mind, and when she mentioned it, it felt like a punch to the gut. The thought of her reaching out to him, of reconnecting with him, makes me feel sick to my stomach, like I want to claw my own skin off.
*Fuck*.
Claire’s right, of course. James would know how to handle Felix— would know his strengths and which weaknesses we could exploit. But the thought of her going back with him, of leaving my pack, is unbearable. Everything inside me rebels at the idea of her *talking* to another man, let alone leaving. Even if that man is technically her husband. And my brother. She feels like *mine*, and the thought of losing her is a pain I can hardly bear. I can’t face the possibility of her choosing him over me. Instead, I bury those feelings deep, focusing on the task at hand: keeping her safe.
When I arrive at the office, I park and sit in the car for a moment, gathering my thoughts. Today will be about finding Felix, about making sure Claire never has to live in fear again. As I step out of the car and head inside, I steel myself for what’s to come. No matter what, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her out of harm’s way.
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll find a way to make her see that she belongs here. With me.