Not loosing her again
1250 Words
ALPHA BRAHAM'S POV
After breakfast, which I'd cooked while Millie watched like she couldn't quite believe an Alpha knew his way around a stove, Leo disappeared upstairs and came back with paper and colored pencils.
"The dragon!" he announced, spreading everything on the coffee table.
We gathered around as he drew with surprising skill for a three-year-old. The shapes were crude but recognizable…a small human figure that looked weak and helpless. Then, beside it, something larger. A figure that looked like a wild dog.
Or...
My blood went cold.
That wasn't just any creature. The proportions, the stance, the way he'd drawn the features…
It was a wolf.
"That's very good, baby," Millie said, but her voice was tight. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the edge of the table.
"The dragon-man protected us!" Leo said proudly. "He was strong and brave and he made the bad people go away."
Callie and Renan exchanged glances. They saw it too.
Leo was dreaming about wolves. About shifting. About protection and instinct and things a human child shouldn't know existed.
And he'd only just turned three.
He's manifesting early, Vorn said, worried now. Too early.
I caught Millie's eye. She looked terrified.
"Leo," Callie said brightly, breaking the tension. "Renan and I are going to the park. Want to come with us?"
"Can I, mama?" He looked at Millie with such hope that she couldn't have said no even if she'd wanted to.
"Of course, mi corazón."
"Yay!" He jumped up, then paused. "But I want to spend more time with Braham too."
"You will," I promised. "But go have fun first."
He hugged Millie tight, then…without warning…launched himself at me. I caught him automatically, and he wrapped his small arms around my neck.
"Thank you for letting us stay in your castle," he whispered.
I couldn't speak. Could barely breathe.
When he pulled back and ran to join Callie and Renan, Millie stood frozen, staring at me like she'd just seen something that scared her.
"It's the first time he's ever been this excited to leave my side," she said quietly after they'd gone. "Since he was born, he's never wanted to be away from me. Not like this."
"He feels safe here."
"I know." She wrapped her arms around herself. "That's what scares me."
"Millie…"
"That drawing, Braham. That wasn't just a dream, was it?"
I could have lied. Should have, maybe. Given her more time before throwing her into the deep end.
But I'd promised myself no more secrets.
"No," I said simply. "It wasn't."
She nodded slowly, like she'd expected that answer. "So it's starting. Whatever you said might happen... it's already happening."
"Millie…"
"I need…" Her voice cracked. "I need a minute."
She turned to leave, but I caught her wrist gently.
"Wait."
She stopped but didn't look at me. I could feel her pulse racing under my fingers, could smell the fear and confusion rolling off her in waves.
"I know this is terrifying," I said quietly. "I know you're scared. But I'm here. And I'm not going to let anything happen to either of you."
"You can't promise that."
"Yes, I can."
Finally, she looked at me, and the vulnerability in her eyes nearly broke me.
"What if I can't protect him from this?" she whispered. "What if I'm not enough?"
"You are enough. You've always been enough." I pulled her closer, slow enough that she could pull away if she wanted. She didn't. "But you don't have to do this alone anymore."
"Braham..." My name came out breathless, uncertain.
I should have stepped back. Should have given her space.
Instead, I reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering against her cheek.
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," I admitted. "From the moment I saw you at the hospital, you've been in my head. In my dreams. In every thought I've had."
"Don't." But even as she said it, she leaned into my touch.
"Don't what? Don't tell you the truth? Don't admit that seeing you with our son makes me want things I have no right to want?"
"We barely know each other."
"I know you survived four years in exile with a baby you didn't plan for. I know you built a life from nothing. I know you taught our son two languages, kept him safe, and came home when you could have stayed hidden forever." My thumb brushed across her cheekbone. "I know you're the strongest person I've ever met. And I know that scares the hell out of you because you spent so long thinking you were weak."
Her breath hitched. "Braham…"
"Tell me to stop," I said, my voice dropping. "Tell me you don't feel this, and I'll step back. I'll give you all the space you need. But Millie…" I leaned in until our foreheads almost touched. “…if you don't tell me to stop, I'm going to kiss you. And if I kiss you, I'm not sure I'll be able to let you go."
For a long moment, she just stared at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes searching mine for something I desperately hoped she'd find.
Then she whispered, "I'm scared."
"Of me?"
"Of this. Of wanting you. Of what happens if.."
I closed the distance between us and parted her lips with mine.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like we were both afraid the other would disappear. Her breath caught, and for a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then her lips parted slightly, and something in me snapped.
I pulled her closer, one hand sliding into her hair, the other pressing against the small of her back. She melted into me, her hands fisting in my shirt, and the kiss deepened into something hungry and desperate and four years overdue.
Every memory of that night came flooding back… the hotel room, her skin against mine, the way she'd whispered my name like a prayer. But this was different. This wasn't desperation or confusion or running from pain.
This was choice.
She was choosing this. Choosing me.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, she stared at me with wide eyes.
"That was…"
"Everything," I finished roughly.
"Probably a mistake," she countered, but her hands were still fisted in my shirt. She didn't pull away.
"Definitely not a mistake."
"Braham, we can't just…"
"Yes, we can." I pressed my forehead against hers, trying to calm my racing heart. Trying to silence Vorn, who was howling with triumph. "We can figure this out, Millie. Together."
"I don't know how to do this," she admitted. "I don't know how to trust someone again."
"Then let me show you." I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. "No pressure. No expectations. Just... let me prove I'm not him. I'm not Silas. I'm not your father. I'm not anyone who's ever hurt you."
She studied me for a long moment, and I felt like I was being weighed and measured against every man who'd ever failed her.
Finally, she nodded. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay," she repeated, stronger this time. "But slow, Braham. I need slow."
"Slow," I agreed, even though every instinct I had was screaming at me to claim her right here, right now. To mark her as mine and make sure she could never run again.
But I'd waited four years.
I could wait a little longer.
As long as she stayed.
- Writer
