Page 102 of Fated
His attention drifted back to the flowers, their delicate petals swaying in the draft from the vent. They truly were breathtaking, and Ava would love them. Yet, they felt out of place—like a mockery of everything his pack had endured.
Lena’s eyes traced his features, seeming to search for a glimmer of connection, a hint of the intimacy they once shared, but his silence stretched, cold and unyielding—a brittle shield protecting him from the vulnerability he couldn’t afford to show.
Not now, when everything felt so fragile and uncertain.
Her gaze shifted lower, stilling as she took in the full scene—his arms wrapped around Ava’s bandaged form as she slept soundly on his chest. Lena’s composed façade cracked for a moment, revealing a glimpse of hurt and concern. The subtle shift in her posture made him want to disappear into the bed.
It’s not what it looks like,he willed himself to say, but the words died in his throat.
She recovered, composure slipping back into place as she moved toward the door. “Do you need anything, Kai?” she asked softly, voice laced with that same quiet longing marked so manyof their first interactions. She stared at him intently, waiting for acknowledgement, as if pleading for a hint that he still needed her.
He blinked, the recognition of his name on her lips cutting through the haze in his mind.
“Kai,”not“mate.”
The absence of that word carved something vital out of him.
When did she stop claiming me?
He shook his head. “No.”
“Kai...” she breathed. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
She doesn’t understand. How could she?
His expression remained stone, silence his only answer.
She nodded once, chin lifting—that subtle gesture of pride he’d come to recognize when she was holding herself together.
“Alright,” she murmured, voice steady despite the slight catch in her breath.
She held his gaze as though waiting for something.An apology, an explanation perhaps?The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips, a nervous habit she only displayed when truly uncertain. A faint sheen of moisture lingered on her lashes as she gripped the doorknob tighter. If she found anything in his expression, she didn’t show it.
Will I be able to fix this? Or has this tragedy that shattered our bliss damaged us beyond repair?
Without another word, Lena turned and left the room. The click of the door closing echoed in his ears, amplified by the sudden absence of her heartbeat, leaving only the mechanical beep of monitors and the rasp of his own shallow breaths.
Kai’s gaze returned to the flowers, their delicate petals taunting him. He looked down at Ava’s sleeping form curled against him, her face peaceful despite the bandages and bruises marring her delicate features. His fingers tightened around the edge of the blanket covering her, and he shifted, pulling hercloser as though holding her tighter, making her better, might make everything else fade away.
But the ghost of Lena’s presence lingered in the room, a haunting reminder of what he risked losing if he couldn’t piece his fractured world back together.I don’t deserve her.His teeth ground together as the emotions he’d fought to suppress spilled over. Tears fell as guilt twisted in his chest, sharp and suffocating—for the pain in Lena’s eyes, for the quiet tension in her voice, for the truths he was too cowardly to speak.
Kai closed his eyes, willing himself back to sleep, but the emptiness in his chest only grew.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CALEB
The energy in the Crescent Fang council chamber felt heavier than usual. Competing pheromones hung thick in the air—traces of aggression, subtle dominance markers, anxiety laced with determination. Caleb’s nostrils flared, cataloging their scents from his position at the head of the table. Despite his composed face and straight posture, apprehension gnawed at him like physical teeth.
To his left sat Varek, arms crossed, his usual easy demeanor replaced by quiet observation. Erik, the eldest of Crescent Fang’s council, sat near the center, his weathered face lined with displeasure. Across from Erik, Garreth sat with his hands folded, his expression unreadable. At the far end, two of the warriorswho had joined Caleb in Bloodstone—Adolphus and Skol—remained silent but alert.
Caleb’s eye twitched as the muscles in his jaw worked around the agitation brewing inside him. The empty chair beside him grew larger with each passing moment, Asher’s absence creating a void behind his ribs. Fenrir paced restlessly, the wolf’s concern for their injured beta bleeding into Caleb’s own anxiety. He’d come to this meeting knowing the council wouldn’t pull their punches.
“You had no right to act on your own!” Erik’s voice detonated the silence as he faced Caleb, spine straight, chin lifted. “No plan. No consultation. You took warriors into unknown territory, into a fight that wasn’t ours!”
“I made the call as your alpha.” Caleb’s voice remained level despite the challenge in the elder’s posture. Without breaking eye contact, he allowed his aura to expand, filling the chamber—a quiet reminder of his position. He kept his gaze fixed on Erik until the elder averted his eyes. “I acted on instinct because there wasn’t time to convene a meeting. Lives were at stake.”
“Lives were also at stake here,” Erik shot back, expression hardening. “What if you hadn’t come back? What if Asher hadn’t survived? Crescent Fang is small, Caleb. Every loss cuts deeper for us than for packs like Bloodstone.”
