Chapter 3: What He Doesn't Say
1107 Words
Gideon's POV
I stood outside the bedroom door. Four minutes. My hand stayed on the latch.
"Walk with me," I had told her. She walked. Her hand stayed in mine the whole way through the halls. Now we stood here. The pack expected one thing tonight. I planned another.
I opened the door. Wren stood just inside. She turned at the sound. Her shoulders squared like she waited for an order.
"Inside," I said. I closed the door behind me. My fingers tightened on the wood longer than needed. The latch clicked. My hands felt unsteady. That should not happen. Not over this.
Wren took one step back. "You brought me here. For the night."
I shrugged off the formal coat. Dropped it across the chair. "The room is yours. Take it."
She watched me. Her fingers twisted together at her waist. "Yours. You claimed me in front of them. The elders. The prince. Everyone."
"Claimed. Yes." I crossed to the window. Kept my back to her for three breaths. "The bed. The room. They are yours tonight. I will not touch you."
Her breath shifted. "You defended me. Out there. Why give me an exit now?"
I turned. The string in my chest pulled again. Same one that tugged every time I saw her in the kitchens over the past year. I never examined it. "Defended what is mine. That does not mean I take everything tonight."
Wren stayed near the edge of the room. "Mine. You keep saying that word. The pack whispers monster. Brute. They wait for you to break me."
"Let them whisper." I loosened the cuff on my sleeve. Rolled it once. "They see what I show them. You get what remains."
She moved one step closer. Then stopped. "What remains? After you vetoed three offers for me last year. I heard the rumors. Why block them if I was only scraps?"
My jaw tightened. I listed them again in my head. The miller's son. The border guard. The quiet scribe from the eastern pack. Three proposals. Three quiet refusals. "Not scraps. Not for them."
Wren's eyes narrowed. "Not for them. But for you?"
I walked to the table. Poured water into a glass. Set it down closer to her side. "Drink if you need it. The night grows long."
She ignored the glass. "You did not answer."
"Answer comes later." I kept my voice even. The pull under my ribs demanded otherwise. I pushed it down. Years of control. One small omega should not test it. Yet here we stood.
Wren crossed her arms. "Later. Always later with you. The binding. The protections. The words at the altar. My little wolf. All of it. Then you stand at your own door like you fear what waits inside."
I stepped closer. Stopped with two paces between us. "Fear. No. Strategy. This marriage serves the pack. Nothing more."
"Nothing more," she repeated. Her tone carried weight. "Yet you grip my hand the entire walk here. You still have not let go until this room."
I looked down. My hand hung empty now. I closed it. Opened it again. "Habit."
"Habit." She gave a short sound. Not quite a laugh. "You expect me to believe the ruthless alpha keeps habits like that?"
I moved to the far chair. Sat. "Believe what you want. The bed is yours. I take the chair. Morning comes. We present united."
Wren stayed standing. "United. While you watch the window like you plan escape. Tell me one thing true tonight."
I rubbed my thumb across my palm. Same spot she pressed earlier. "One thing. You sleep safe. Here. With me in this room but not in that bed."
She walked to the edge of the bed. Fingers brushed the cover. "Safe. From everyone but the questions in my head. Why me? Why block those offers? Why call me yours in front of the man who tossed me aside?"
The string pulled harder. I stood again. "The prince chose wrong. I corrected it."
"Corrected." Wren turned to face me. "That easy? Years of watching from shadows. I feel it now. The way you look at me. Not new."
I crossed the room. Stopped short. "Shadows serve their purpose. Pack needs strength. Not softness."
"Softness." She reached out. Her hand hovered near my arm. Dropped. "You give me the room. The title. The protection. Then call it nothing more. Which is the lie?"
I caught her hand before it fell completely. Held it. Brief. "Not a lie. A limit. Tonight stays clean."
Her fingers curled around mine. "Clean. While your thumb moves like that on my wrist. You do not even notice."
I noticed. I released her. Stepped back. The pull followed. "Go to bed, Wren."
She did not move. "You stand outside your own door for minutes. I saw the shadow under the gap. Then you come in and offer escape. Why?"
"Enough questions." My voice came clipped. Too clipped. I adjusted. "Sleep. I watch the door."
Wren sat on the edge of the bed. Shoes still on. "Watch the door. From the chair. While I wonder what kind of man gives his mate space on their binding night. The monster they describe would not."
I took the chair. Stretched my legs. "The monster they describe keeps this pack alive. You get the man behind it. For now."
She pulled one shoe off. Slow. "For now. Another half answer. Like the three proposals. You never told anyone why you blocked them."
I leaned my head back. The wall felt cool. "Never needed to. Until today."
"Today." Wren removed the other shoe. "You changed everything today. Then refuse to touch me. I should feel relief. Instead my chest pulls every time you speak."
I closed my eyes for one second. Opened them. "The pull. Leave it."
"Leave it," she said. Soft. Then stronger. "You ask the impossible. After you stood for me in front of the entire pack."
I stood from the chair. Walked to the window again. "The pack sees strength. You see too much."
"Too much." She lay back on the covers. Still dressed. "Tell me one full truth before you sit there all night. Have you watched me longer than the bond forced?"
My hand gripped the window frame. The wood creaked. I did not plan to answer. The words came anyway. Low. Guarded.
"Longer. Much longer."
Wren sat up. The room went still around her question. I turned away from the window. The truth sat between us now. Heavy. Unwanted. And I still did not know how to push it back into the shadows where it belonged.
- Writer
