Chapter 26 Breaking Point
I couldn’t sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that text. Nobody will help you when the vote comes.
At two AM, I gave up. Got out of bed. Pulled on a sweatshirt over my tank top and pajama shorts. Padded barefoot to the kitchen.
The penthouse was dark. Silent. Just the hum of the refrigerator and the city lights filtering through the windows.
I grabbed milk. Started heating it on the stove. Aunt Clara used to make warm milk when I couldn’t sleep. Said it was magic. It wasn’t. But the ritual helped.
“Can’t sleep?”
I jumped. Spilled milk on the counter.
Lycian stood in the doorway. Shirtless. Sweatpants low on his hips. Hair is messy from sleep. He looked unfairly good for two in the morning.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He grabbed a towel. Started cleaning the spill.
“It’s fine. I’m just jumpy.”
“Because of the texts?”
My stomach dropped. “How did you…”
“I can feel it. Through the bond. Your fear. Your stress. It wakes me up.” He tossed the towel aside. “How many have there been?”
“Three.”
“Show me.”
“I deleted them.”
“Elowen.”
“I blocked the numbers. It’s handled.”
“It’s not handled. Someone is threatening you.” His voice was tight. Controlled. But I could see the anger underneath. “I need to know who.”
“I don’t know who. That’s the problem.” I turned off the stove. Poured the milk into a mug even though I didn’t want it anymore. “It’s probably just Sarah being petty.”
“Sarah’s mean. Not threatening. There’s a difference.”
“Then I don’t know. Could be anyone.” I wrapped my hands around the warm mug. Let the heat seep into my palms. “Half the pack hates me.”
“Half the pack doesn’t know you yet. That’s different.” He moved closer. Close enough that I could feel his warmth. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you’ll go into overprotective Alpha mode. You’ll try to fix it. And I need to handle some things myself.”
“This isn’t something you handle yourself. This is a threat against my mate.”
“I’m not helpless.”
“I never said you were.”
“But you treat me like I am. Like I’m fragile. Like I can’t handle pack politics or mean texts or anything.” My voice rose. Frustration is bubbling over. “I’ve been taking care of myself for years. I don’t need you to fight all my battles.”
“I’m not trying to fight your battles. I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“By controlling everything? By deciding what I can handle?”
“By protecting what’s mine.” His eyes flashed gold. Just for a second. “You’re my mate. That means something. That means I don’t let people threaten you.”
“I’m not a possession.”
“I never said you were.”
“But you act like it sometimes. Like I’m something to guard. To protect. To manage.” I set down my mug. Too hard. Milk sloshed over the edge. “I’m a person, Lycian. I get to make my own choices. Even bad ones.”
He was quiet for a long moment. Jaw tight. Hands clenched.
“You’re right,” he said finally. “I am overprotective. I am controlling. Because the thought of losing you makes me insane.”
“You’re not going to lose me.”
“You don’t know that. My mom died because my father wasn’t there to protect her. I grew up watching him blame himself. Destroy himself with guilt.” His voice cracked. “I can’t be him. I can’t lose you the way he lost her.”
The words hit me hard. Made my chest ache.
“Lycian…”
“I know it’s not fair. I know I can’t control everything. But when I feel your fear through the bond, I want to destroy whoever caused it. Want to make sure they never get close to you again.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m working on it. But it’s hard.”
I moved closer. Close enough to touch. “I’m scared too. Of the texts. Of the vote. Of losing this.” I gestured between us. “But we can’t let fear control us. We have to trust each other.”
“I do trust you.”
“Then trust me to tell you when I need help. And trust me to handle things myself when I don’t.”
He pulled me into his arms. Sudden. Tight. Like he was afraid I’d disappear.
I wrapped my arms around him. Felt his heart racing against my chest. Felt his warmth seeping into me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into my hair. “For being controlling. For making you feel like a possession. That’s not what I want.”
“I know. And I’m sorry for not telling you about the texts. I should have.”
We stood there for a while. Just holding each other. The city lights cast shadows across the kitchen floor.
“Come on,” he said finally. “You need sleep.”
“I can’t sleep. My brain won’t shut off.”
“Then we’ll make it shut off.” He took my hand. Led me to the living room. Grabbed the remote. “Movie. Something mindless.”
“It’s two thirty in the morning.”
“Perfect movie time.”
We settled on the couch. He pulled a blanket over us. I curled into his side. His arm was around my shoulders. Warm. Safe.
He put on an action movie. Explosions and car chases and terrible dialogue. Exactly mindless enough.
“This is awful,” I said.
“That’s the point.”
I laughed. Felt some of the tension ease.
His hand played with my hair. Gentle. Soothing. His other hand found mine under the blanket. Laced our fingers together.
That spark raced between us. Constant now. Background hum I barely notice anymore.
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
“Always.”
“What does the bond actually feel like? You said it’s like I’m in your head. But what does that mean?”
He was quiet for a moment. Thinking. “It’s like… background music. Always there. Sometimes quiet, sometimes loud. I always know where you are. How are you feeling? If you’re safe.”
“That sounds overwhelming.”
“It’s not. It’s comforting. Knowing you’re close. Knowing I’d feel it if something was wrong.” His fingers traced patterns on my shoulder. “What about you? Do you feel anything?”
“Sometimes. Like when we touch, there’s that spark. And sometimes I know what you’re feeling. But it’s not constant like you describe.”
“It will be. Eventually. The bond strengthens over time.”
“What if it doesn’t? What if I’m too human for it to work properly?”
“Then we figure it out. Together.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Bond or no bond, I want you here.”
“Even if the pack votes no?”
“Especially then. Because then it’s just us. No politics. No pressure. Just you and me.”
“You’d really leave your pack?”
“Without hesitation.”
I tilted my head up. Looked at him. His eyes were soft. Honest.
“I love you,” I said. The words just came out. Unexpected. True.
He went still. “What?”
“I love you. I know it’s fast. I know we barely know each other. But I do. I love you.”
He cupped my face. Thumbs brushing my cheeks. “Say it again.”
“I love you.”
He kissed me. Deep. Desperate. Like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear those words.
When we pulled apart, we were both breathing hard.
“I love you too,” he whispered against my lips. “So much it scares me.”
“Good. We can be scared together.”
We kissed again. Longer this time. Slower. His hands tangled in my hair. Mine slipped under his shirt. Felt warm skin and muscle.
The movie played on. Forgotten. Background noise to something more important.
Eventually, we fell asleep like that. Tangled together on the couch. Blanket half falling off. Credits rolling on a movie neither of us watched.
I woke up to sunlight streaming through the windows. Lycian’s arms are still around me. His breathing is slow and steady.
My phone was buzzing somewhere. I reached for it. Groggy. Still half asleep.
Text from Elena.
Sunday breakfast tomorrow. Bring Lycian. And maybe prepare yourself. Thaddeus is announcing the trial.
My stomach dropped.
Tomorrow. The announcement. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good.
I looked at Lycian. Still sleeping. Peaceful in a way he never was awake.
I wanted to stay in this moment. In this bubble where we were just us. Where love was simple and threats were distant and the future didn’t exist.
But tomorrow was coming whether I wanted it or not.
And something told me everything was about to change.