His unclaimed mate

Chapter 6



Nicholas's POV

Flashback — The Morning of the Flight

After taking a warm bath, I stood in front of the mirror, staring at a man I barely recognized.

My hair was still damp. My jaw was tight. And my chest — my chest felt like something had taken root inside it and refused to let go.

Why did Elena keep finding her way into my thoughts?

I had been with countless women. I had never struggled to understand my feelings for any of them. Most of the time, I knew exactly what I wanted, and I never allowed emotions to complicate things.

But Elena was different.

What happened between us was supposed to be nothing more than a one-night stand. At least, that was what I had told myself.

Yet every time I thought about her, something stirred inside me. Something warm and terrifying that I couldn't explain — like the ground beneath me was quietly shifting, and part of me didn't want it to stop.

A sudden notification on my phone interrupted my thoughts.

I picked it up, expecting an ordinary message. Instead, my blood turned cold.

Leave Elena alone, or you'll suffer the consequences.

My expression hardened.

Who the hell had sent that?

More importantly, how did they know about Elena and me?

I read the message again, and this time my hands were shaking. Not from fear for myself — I had faced threats before. It was the thought of Elena. Of someone watching her. Of someone using her to get to me.

A dozen possibilities crossed my mind.

I had enemies. Plenty of them. But which one would dare threaten Elena?

The doorbell rang.

I hurried to answer it, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The moment I opened the door, Elena stood before me.

For one heartbeat, I just looked at her. The morning light caught her face, and she smiled at me — that soft, unguarded smile that made my chest ache.

She was in danger because of me. Because she had chosen me.

Without thinking, I pulled her inside.

She looked startled by my sudden reaction, her hands landing flat against my chest.

"What's wrong with you, Nicholas?"

Her eyes searched mine. Deeply. Like she was trying to read every secret I had ever kept. She always did that — looked at me like she could see straight through the walls I had spent years building.

I couldn't tell her about the message. Not yet. I didn't want that fear in her eyes. I didn't want her to know that the man standing in front of her had brought a shadow to her door.

So I kissed her.

For a moment, I forgot everything.

The threat. My enemies. The questions running through my head.

All I could think about was Elena — the taste of her lips, the way her fingers curled into my shirt, the small sound she made against my mouth like she had been waiting for this.

But just as we became lost in the moment, the message flashed through my mind again.

Leave Elena alone.

I pulled away abruptly.

Elena stared at me, confusion written across her face. Her lips were still parted, her breathing uneven. She reached for my hand, her touch gentle.

"Nicholas… talk to me. Whatever it is—"

"I have to go," I muttered.

I didn't explain. I didn't even wait to see what she would say.

I needed answers, and I needed them before someone made good on that threat.

"Nicholas!"

Her voice followed me — hurt, not angry. That was worse.

Then I heard a sudden noise. A gasp. A thud.

I turned and saw Elena had slipped.

Every other thought in my head vanished. There was only her.

"Elena!"

I rushed to her, my heart in my throat. I helped her up and lifted her into my arms, carrying her into the room. My hands checked her ankle, then her face, then her hands — like I could physically push the danger away from her if I just held on tight enough.

She looked at me, and for a moment neither of us spoke.

Her eyes moved over my face slowly. Searching. She lifted her hand and touched my cheek, her thumb brushing my jaw.

"You're scared," she whispered.

It wasn't a question.

I had no answer for her.

And I hated that.

The drive to the airport was silent. I sat beside her, looking out the window while my mind worked through every possible suspect.

Elena watched me the whole way. I could feel her gaze on the side of my face like a warmth I didn't deserve. Once, I glanced back, and she was still looking — not accusing, not demanding. Just looking at me like she was memorizing me, like she was holding onto something she could already feel slipping away.

Then one name came to me.

Bella.

She was the only person I could think of who might have seen Elena and me together. Perhaps she had noticed something at the office. Perhaps she had discovered our past relationship.

And if she had, jealousy might have driven her to threaten Elena.

My jaw clenched.

I couldn't be certain.

But I needed to find out.

Before we boarded the flight, I changed my seat so I could sit closer to Bella. I intended to get her talking and discover whether she knew anything about the message.

When Bella eventually got up to use the bathroom, I saw my opportunity.

Our past relationship had taught me how easily I could get her attention. I decided to use that familiarity to find out what she knew.

But as I stood, I glanced toward Elena.

Her eyes met mine.

And this time, there was no softness in them.

She looked at me — deep into me — and I watched something break behind her expression. Confusion first. Then understanding she didn't want. Then hurt, sharp and quiet, like a blade sliding in slowly.

She didn't look away. She just stared at me, as if asking me silently: Why?

I knew she had seen me following Bella. I knew she didn't understand why.

Still, I continued.

I told myself I was doing this for her.

I followed Bella into the bathroom, hoping to get her alone and question her. But things quickly became complicated, and before I could think of a way to explain myself, the door shifted.

Elena appeared.

She stood there, staring at us.

For a moment, none of us spoke.

Her eyes moved from Bella to me — slowly, deliberately — and I saw the exact moment the light in them dimmed. She didn't cry. She didn't yell. She just looked at me one last time, and that look said everything: I trusted you. I looked at you this morning and I believed you cared.

Then she turned and walked away.

I immediately stepped back from Bella.

I wanted to chase after her. I wanted to fall to my knees and explain that I hadn't been trying to hurt her — that everything I was doing was to keep her safe, to keep her.

But what could I say?

I had no proof that Bella was responsible for the threat. I had no evidence that she had even seen Elena and me together.

And I couldn't tell Elena that I was using Bella to investigate a message she knew nothing about.

I helped Bella straighten her dress, and we returned to our seats.

I didn't look toward Elena again.

I didn't have to. I could feel the distance between us growing with every mile, like an ocean opening up in the aisle between our seats.

I knew she was disappointed. I knew she had every reason to be.

But I told myself that once I discovered who was threatening her, I would explain everything.

She would understand. She had to.

After the flight, I noticed Elena had barely spoken.

During the drive to the hotel, she kept her gaze fixed on the window. But in the glass, I could see her reflection — and every so often, her eyes flicked toward me in the dark window, before quickly looking away, like she had been caught doing something she was ashamed of.

Caring.

Bella sat nearby, while I struggled to find the right words.

I wanted to ask Elena what she was thinking.

I wanted to tell her that I hadn't stopped caring about her — that I cared more than I had ever cared about anything, and it terrified me.

But something held me back.

Perhaps it was guilt.

Perhaps I was afraid that if she looked at me again — really looked at me, the way she did this morning — she would see the truth written all over my face, and she would walk away anyway.

By the time we reached the hotel, my thoughts had become unbearable.

I couldn't afford to lose Elena. Not when I was beginning to realize that what I felt for her was far more than attraction. It was the kind of feeling that rearranged a man from the inside.

I decided to send a message to someone who might help me investigate the threat.

But before I could finish, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door, expecting someone else.

Instead, Bella stood before me in a revealing dress.

Before I could ask why she was there, she stepped forward and kissed me.

I froze.

I hadn't invited her. I hadn't expected her to do that.

And in that frozen second, all I could see was Elena's face — that broken, searching look in the airplane aisle. The way her eyes had held mine this morning like she was drowning and I was the only air she had.

I pulled back from Bella slowly.

And for the first time that day, I realized that my attempt to uncover the truth might have made everything between Elena and me even worse