Four
1201 Words
Cade woke slowly but it was not because something had startled him, or because of a nightmare clawing at the edges of his mind. It was not even because his body ached from tossing and turning.
No, he woke because his body was… still… completely still.
His limbs stretched long and loose beneath the sheets, his muscles heavy with the kind of satisfying weight that only came from deep, uninterrupted sleep. His spine felt like it had been uncoiled and reset, like someone had taken a wrench to all his tightly wound parts and straightened them out.
For a second… just one second, he let himself enjoy it, relishing in the moment he had been enjoying, then he furrowed his brows in a frown.
He was awake fully now, and that meant that something had to be wrong. Because this feeling, this rare, foreign sense of ease wasn't something that happened to him.
Or at least, not anymore.
For years, sleep had been a battlefield. A war zone full of teeth and shadows, where demons came wearing old memories and refused to leave when morning broke. Most nights, he didn’t sleep at all. When he did, it was fitful; flashes of rest interrupted by something clawing at his subconscious, something wild and merciless that never let him rest.
Some nights, he would stay up instead of even trying to sleep, running through the woods, then going for a swim.
He wasn't even sure whatever it was that had ruined him, and no matter how many high-end mattresses he bought, and how many doctors he saw, whether human or shifter, no one could fix it.
They had all offered the same words: trauma, residual aggression, and mental fatigue. It was as if naming the problem was supposed to make it disappear but it never did.
But then three nights ago, Hazel Foster had been dropped into his life like a spark into a powder keg… and the storm inside him had stilled.
The first night, he had chalked it up to the exhaustion of having to have dealt with her, argued with her, negotiated with her, and then went back to his work, and by the time he got to his room, he was wiped. That had to be it, he had told himself. The second night, the same thing had happened and once again, he had told himself he was just too mentally drained to dream, and that it was coincidence.
But now it was the third morning, and it wasn’t coincidence anymore.
He opened his eyes fully, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of morning outside his window, and reached for the bond he shared with his wolf.
“What changed?” he asked his wolf and the answer came without hesitation, the voice sounding low and certain.
“It's her scent.” he said and Cade’s jaw flexed.
Hazel?
His gaze shifted to the far end of the bed; the side she had briefly occupied when she had been unconscious, just for a few hours that first day. She hadn’t even stirred or done anything that could warrant this. She hadn’t done anything but exist.
And somehow, that had changed everything.
Her scent had lingered; soft and wild and maddeningly distinct. It had burrowed into the fabric of the sheets, into the grain of the wood, into him. And apparently, it was the only thing in years that had calmed the storm.
Three nights of peace, and she hadn’t even known she was giving it to him.
He ran a hand down his face, his fingers dragging across his jaw as he exhaled slow and hard. What the hell was he supposed to do when her scent finally faded?
Go back to tossing and turning?
Go back to waking up in cold sweats, already on edge before his feet touched the ground?
No way! He couldn’t do that, not now that he knew what good felt like.
Not now that he had had a taste of her… not her body, not her affection, but something deeper. Something he hadn’t even realized he had been starving for.
Peace. A real, quiet peace.
And the worst part was how he kept this tribulation to himself. He had kept it a secret from everyone and noteven his Beta knew the full extent of it.
The nights Cade couldn’t sleep or the mornings he woke up tense and worn out, already ten steps behind before the sun even rose. Because if the pack knew… if anyone knew… they would start to question his ability to lead and then start to worry. And everyone knew worry always turned into weakness, and weakness was a risk none of them could afford.
He was the Alpha, their protector and their shield.
He didn’t get the luxury of breaking, which meant this thing with Hazel… this connection, if that’s what it was… he couldn’t ignore it or write it off as a fluke.
He had to have her, and it wasn't because he wanted her… okay… he did in a way, more than he would like to admit.
But because something in her made him better and whole.
If she was the only thing in the world that could do that… then he would move heaven and earth to keep her exactly where she was, even if it meant breaking every rule he lived by.
Even if it meant breaking his promise of no string attached.
“Hazel Foster is going to be mine.” he said and his voice seemed to leap for joy, or it could be him leaping because he was hungry, but either way, he would definitely make her his.
Cade sat up, the sheets falling around his waist, chest bare and marked with the light scars of old battles he had fought, the physical ones, at least.
The real ones were the ones inside him that no one could see.
He rubbed the back of his neck, still trying to shake the way her scent lingered faintly in the fabric. He could almost feel it; warm, earthy, with that wild undertone that had burrowed so deep it felt like a part of him now.
“You sure it’s her?” he asked silently.
His wolf didn’t hesitate. “Oh yes. I’ve never been more sure of anything. You breathe easier when she’s in the same space as you. She’s the calm we’ve been waiting for.”
Cade dragged a hand over his face. “So, what? She’s some kind of natural sedative now?” he asked, and his wolf growled.
“No! She’s ours.” he said. “I'm sure you want more than just her ability to make you sleep.”
Cade exhaled sharply. He hated when the damn wolf was right.
Because he did want more, not just the sleep, or the scent.
He wanted her voice in his ear again; the sharp, sarcastic, unafraid voice. He wanted to see the way her eyes sparked when she was pissed, the way she squared her shoulders like she could take on a whole pack by herself.
He wanted her here, and he wanted her here as his mate.
- Writer
