Page 66 of Framed and Forgotten
Relief settled over me when I saw our lands remained untouched, unfound. At last, my exhausted body gave out. I would’ve hit the ground if not for Koen’s swift reflexes - he shifted and caught me in his arms before I could collapse.
In an instant, our arrival was noticed. My friends rushed toward us, draping robes over our shoulders as they bombarded us with questions. Wolves gathered around, the air thick with tension. Everyone had been wondering where their Alpha had gone. And when they saw the state I was in, their concern only deepened.
A shout rose from the crowd, and my friends quickly stepped aside to make way for my uncle. He approached me with nothing but concern, while I foolishly tried to appear stronger than I felt in an instinctive attempt to ease his and the rest of the pack’s worry. As he wrapped an arm around my back to support me, I caught him casting a cold glare at Koen, who immediately lowered his gaze in shame. I hated seeing it, but I didn’t have the strength to do anything about it.
As my uncle rushed me to the pack hospital, I overheard Elijah talking to Koen. After making sure I was in good hands, my gamma tried to convince my mate to see a doctor as well. To my dismay, Koen vehemently refused. As much as it worried me, I didn’t push him. He had suffered a lot these past few days, and it didn’t sit right with me to force him to do something he wasn’t comfortable with.
Maybe, for now, the best I could do was offer him some space.
For the next couple of days, I was ordered to stay on bed rest at the hospital. Koen told the nurses about my divine recovery, and though skeptical at first, they insisted on keeping me under observation while I regained my energy.
Koen stayed with me most of the time, both to keep me from getting bored and to ensure I wouldn’t ignore the doctor’s recommendations. The truth was, I was still too anxious to lie still. The imminence of war kept me on edge, and while I hated wasting time, I recognized that I wouldn’t be able to fight unless I allowed my body to recover fully.
When my mate wasn’t with me, he was working tirelessly with my friends to keep the pack together and plan our next move. Watching how hard he dedicated himself filled me with both pride and pity. He worked for the benefit of the shifters who had once scorned him, and to save a family he still didn’t feel he belonged to despite now sharing our blood.
Regaining my memories meant remembering all the good, but also all the bad. I remembered Koen’s indifferent eyes and the way he lost my trust, as well as my pack’s. Seeing him give everything for Azure Smoke again, after everything he’d been through, helped reassure me that he was the mate I’d always known - the man who had sworn to stay by my side no matter how ugly things got. But knowing he did it mostly because he felt he owed it to us and not because he believed he was worthy of being my king, broke my heart.
Even so, I understood. After everything that had happened, it was unrealistic to expect things to return to the way they once were. Although time was a resource I lacked, I could onlyhope that with it everything would gradually return to its proper course.
Either way, as confused and hurt as I was, I was grateful to have Koen by my side again. Even though it was not unscathed, we had managed to escape Nerine’s trap in the end.
A soft knock drew my attention to the door just before it creaked open. My breath caught the second Koen stepped inside, wearing that stormy look he always did when he’d just come back from dealing with pack matters - half-worried, half-wild. His hair was a mess, his shirt slightly askew, like he’d dressed in a hurry. But his eyes...they only ever softened for me.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, striding toward the bed. He didn’t wait for me to answer before sitting on the edge and brushing a hand down my arm.
“Better now,” I admitted, leaning into his touch.
Koen nodded, examining me with his gaze. “You look less pale. That’s a good sign.”
“Youlook exhausted, though,” I observed, studying the faint shadows under his eyes. “Have you even slept?”
He shrugged. “I rest when you rest.”
“That’s not sustainable, Koen,” I scolded.
“I don’t care.” His thumb brushed along the back of my hand, slow and absent. “You come first. Always.”
Silence fell, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind that wraps itself around two people who’ve already said the important things. Still, I could see that Koen was holding back, and I didn’t like it. He only touched me enough to soothe me, only looked at me long enough to make sure I was real. I knew it was because he was overcome with guilt, to the point of deeming himself unworthy of truly having me.
I hated that. I hated the way he couldn’t let go, couldn't forgive himself and be with me the way he should. I hatedthat even after the storm had passed, his ex-wife’s schemes had changed our relationship.
A flicker of frustration curled inside me, not just at him, but at the distance still lingering between us. I wanted him -allof him. Not the careful, hesitant version. The real Koen. The one who once kissed me like the world was ending. The one who once worshiped every inch of me with his hands.
I missed that. I missedhim.
My hand traced idle patterns on the fabric of his pants as I let my thoughts wander - until an idea struck me. I didn’t let him see the change in my expression, kept the wicked glint in my eyes to myself as my hand wandered lower, more deliberately, until I hovered near the subtle bulge in his pants.
Koen immediately stiffened.
His jaw clenched, and I could see the restraint flickering behind his eyes. He wouldn’t meet my gaze. Instead, he stared at the blanket between us like it might save him from whatever temptation was blooming within him. His face went rigid, like an angel on the verge of falling, torn between instinct and control.
Still, the effect of my touch was undeniable. Beneath my palm, I felt him slowly harden. And the longer I lingered, the more his resolve unraveled.
“Avril-” he half pleaded, half warned as he figured out my intentions.
“I missed you,” I admitted, voice lower now. Huskier.
He swallowed thickly, the tension in his throat betraying how much effort it took to tamp down the heat rising in him. “I can’t,” he determined, still refusing to look into my eyes.
