Chapter Eighteen: Morning Softness Interrupted
1007 Words
Taunie was still tucked against Treston’s chest, her blush slowly fading but her heart still fluttering from his poem. He watched her with that same quiet awe, like she was something rare and luminous he’d been blessed to wake beside.
She peeked up at him again, cheeks still warm. “You really memorized that?”
Treston brushed a thumb along her jaw, his smile soft and devastating. “I made it for you.”
Her breath caught. “You… wrote it?”
He nodded once, eyes never leaving hers. “You inspire things in me I didn’t know I had.”
Taunie’s blush returned full force, and Treston laughed softly, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “There it is again. My favorite color on you.”
She swatted his chest lightly, but she was smiling. “Stop staring at me like that.”
“Can’t,” he murmured. “Won’t.”
He shifted, propping himself on one elbow so he could look down at her properly. His other hand slid to her waist, warm and gentle, grounding her in the moment.
“You slept,” he said softly. “Really slept. I’m glad.”
Taunie’s expression softened. “Because of you.”
His eyes darkened with emotion — not lust, but something deeper, protective and tender all at once. He leaned down and pressed a slow kiss to her cheek, lingering there.
“I’ll always be here when you wake up,” he whispered. “Always.”
Taunie’s heart melted completely. She curled closer, resting her head against his chest again, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
For a moment, the world was quiet. Safe. Warm.
Then Treston’s fingers brushed her hair, slow and thoughtful.
“Do you feel up to getting out of bed?” he asked gently. “Or do you want a little more time like this?”
Taunie hesitated — not because she was unsure, but because she was savoring the moment. The safety. The closeness. The way he held her like she was the center of his universe.
“I… wouldn’t mind staying like this a little longer,” she admitted softly.
Treston smiled, pulling her even closer. “Good. Because I wasn’t planning on letting you go yet.”
He tucked the blanket around her, his chin resting lightly on her head, his arms wrapped securely around her as if shielding her from the world.
And for the first time in a long time, Taunie felt like morning didn’t have to be rushed.
It could be gentle.
It could be soft.
It could be hers.
Treston and Taunie finally slipped out of bed, still wrapped in that soft, glowing warmth from their morning together. He helped her get ready — not because she needed help, but because he couldn’t seem to stop touching her, brushing her hair back, straightening her shirt, stealing little kisses that made her blush all over again.
When they stepped into the hallway, Treston’s hand found hers automatically. He didn’t even think about it. He just held her close, guiding her toward the dining hall with a quiet protectiveness that made Taunie’s heart flutter.
The pack house was already buzzing with morning energy — clinking dishes, chatter, the smell of fresh bread and coffee drifting through the air. A few pack members glanced their way, smiling softly at the sight of their Alpha and his mate walking in together.
Treston pulled out a chair for Taunie, brushing a kiss to her temple before sitting beside her. She blushed again, and he grinned like it was his new favorite hobby.
They barely had time to reach for their plates.
The dining hall doors slammed open.
Beta Kallan strode in, eyes sharp, posture tense. The room fell silent instantly — every warrior, every Omega, every elder turning toward him.
His gaze locked on Treston.
“Alpha,” he said, voice clipped and urgent, “we have a situation.”
Treston was on his feet before the sentence finished, instinct snapping into place. Taunie felt the shift in him — the warmth replaced by steel, the softness replaced by Alpha command.
“What happened?” Treston asked, voice low.
Kallan didn’t hesitate.
“There’s a rogue attack on the south border.”
A ripple of shock moved through the room. Warriors stood. Chairs scraped. The air thickened with tension.
Treston’s eyes darkened, his wolf pushing forward.
“How many?” he demanded.
“Enough to be a problem,” Kallan replied. “They’re coordinated. Not random.”
Treston’s jaw clenched. “Shadow Star?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Taunie felt a chill run down her spine. She stood beside Treston, her hand brushing his arm. He glanced at her — just for a heartbeat — and the look in his eyes softened for her alone.
Then he turned back to Kallan.
“Get the warriors ready. I’ll be there in two minutes.”
Kallan nodded sharply and sprinted out.
The dining hall erupted into motion, but Treston didn’t move. Not yet. He turned to Taunie, stepping close, his hands gently gripping her arms.
“You stay inside,” he said quietly but firmly. “No matter what you hear. No matter what happens.”
Taunie swallowed. “Treston—”
He leaned his forehead against hers, voice dropping to a whisper meant only for her.
“I can’t lose you. Not today. Not ever.”
Her heart twisted.
“I’ll be safe,” she promised softly.
He kissed her — not heated, not rushed, but deep and grounding, a promise and a plea all at once.
When he pulled back, his eyes were full of fire.
“I’ll come back to you,” he said. “Always.”
Then he turned and strode out of the dining hall, his Beta falling into step beside him, warriors gathering like a storm behind their Alpha.
Taunie stood frozen, her heart pounding, watching the man she loved walk straight toward danger.
And deep inside her…
something ancient stirred.
- Writer
