Keeping Watch

Kade’s POV

She was falling apart. I could see it, but I could not stop it, not without ruining the fragile calmness we had finally achieved.

But she was falling apart. Her body was failing her. Not dramatically, not in a way anyone else would notice unless they were looking very closely.

But I was.

The damn bond would not let me miss it.

From the outside, she still looked the same...chin high, shoulders tight, tongue sharp enough to draw blood. Every guard report described her with the same words: hostile, alert, defiant.

But they were wrong. They could not see her fraying at the edges.

Defiance takes energy. Rage burns fuel. She was now running on fumes. I felt it in the bond first — the drag, the hollow dip behind her anger. Like her emotions were moving through mud. Even her hatred toward me didn’t hit as hard as it used to. That should have been a relief.

But it definitely wasn’t. It meant she was exhausted.

We led her down to her room, while I stood in the corridor outside the west balcony and watched from a distance as she sat on the stone bench below with a cup of tea she hadn’t touched.

Dorian was beside her, talking with his hands like always, probably telling some exaggerated story. Normally she would interrupt him by now. Roll her eyes. Throw an insult.

But she just listened.

She looked too still. Too quiet.

“When did she last eat?” I asked without looking away.

The guard beside me straightened. “Yesterday evening, Alpha. Half a portion.”

“Half. And before that?”

“…Not much.” The same guard answered again.

My jaw tightened. Of course. Grief ate appetite first. Then strength. Then judgment.

“She won’t accept food when it’s brought,” the guard added carefully. “She says she’s not hungry.”

I almost laughed at that. Werewolves in shock never felt hungry, their bodies still needed food.

“Change the tray rotation,” I said.

“Warm meals only. Smaller portions more often.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“And stop announcing it when you bring it, Leave it and go.”

He bowed and left.

Below, Dorian said something that should have earned him a sarcastic response. Instead she only gave a small breath through her nose ,not even a full laugh. My chest tightened.

That was worse than anger.

My wolf paced.

She is weakening.

“I know,” I muttered under my breath.

I turned away before they sensed me watching, and headed toward the kitchen myself.

The cooks nearly dropped a pot when I walked in. I ignored the panic.

“Give me food packed with Protein,” I said. “Soft, easy to eat.”

They scrambled and then brought me bread, roasted meat sliced thin, broth, fruit. Too much. It was always too much food for her to eat.

I removed half the tray myself.

“She won’t touch it if it looks like a feast,”

I said. “Make it look normal.”

They nodded like this was a military strategy. anyway, it was.

Keeping her alive was.

I carried the tray myself.

Not because I needed to, but because I didn’t trust anyone else to notice whether she actually ate it.

Halfway down the corridor I stopped.

If I walked in alone, she wouldn’t eat.

If Dorian brought it, she might.

I called for him through the pack link and watched him stroll towards me like he had no care in the world...

"You,” I said.

He then jogged over to me.

“That tone usually means paperwork or death.”

“Food,” I said, lifting the tray.

He looked at it, then at me, then at her across the balcony.

“Ah,” he said quietly. “That kind of death prevention.”

“Take it to her. I need her fed.”

He blinked. “You’re not going to?”

“She won’t eat if I bring it to her myself... You know this.”

He studied my face for a second, probably reading more than I said, then took the tray without a joke.

“so, you're just hovering around her then?” he asked lightly.

“Shut up and feed her.”

“Romantic,” he said. “Very inspiring leadership, My alpha.”

“Dorian.”

“Going... I'm going.”

He crossed to her like it was nothing. No ceremony. No tension. Just movement.

While I stayed back, wandering when I'd ever be that freely close to her.

I watched the moment she noticed the tray. The suspicion. The refusal already forming in her posture. Then Dorian said something casual and sat instead of standing over her.

He broke the bread himself. Ate a piece first.

That was very Smart.

She hesitated, then she took one.

The bond eased a little as I watched.

Relief hit me so hard it was almost embarrassing.

I turned away before I watched more.

The reports kept coming.

She slept in bursts, Walked at odd hours, Avoided crowded spaces,Startled at sudden noise, Classic trauma response.

Any wounded wolf would show the same,

But she was not any wolf.

She was mine.

I found myself adjusting guard routes around her movements, fewer patrol passes near her room, quieter shift changes, no weapon drills outside her window.

No one questioned the orders. They just assumed it was a new strategy.

But I knew it wasn’t strategy.

It was mercy.

By midday I had signed three documents, rejected two territory requests without reading them fully, and dismissed an entire logistics report because I realized halfway through that I had not heard a word of it.

My focus kept splitting, half here, half where she was.

Bringing in this situation was annoying and dangerous.... But it was unavoidable.

I went to find Dorian again.

He was in the armory pretending to inspect blade balance. He didn’t look up when he spoke.

“You’re pacing like a rejected mate,” he said.

“I should assign you to border latrine inspection.”

“You say that every time you’re stressed.”

“I’m not stressed .” I answered.

"You sound just like her..." He said, which made me look up at him.

“Oh come on... Don't act like I'm lying...You sent me to make sure she eats, even when you haven't eaten.”

I didn’t answer.

He grinned. “You’re stressed.”

“I need you on a duty rotation,” I said instead.

He turned. “Real one or fake one?”

“Her.”

“Ah.”

“Walks. Fresh air. Movement. Twice daily.”

He whistled softly. “You’re prescribing sunlight now.”

“Yes.”

He looked me up and down like he was just meeting this version of me... And I did not blame him because I also did not know that this version of me exists.

“She’ll know it's you... She's not dumb, you know.”

“I don’t care.” I answered.

He leaned back on the rack. “You’re not trying to win her. You’re trying to keep her functioning.”

“Yes.”

“That’s worse.”

“I know... But that's all I want for now.”

He studied me for a moment again, then nodded. No jokes this time.

“I’ll take her out,” he said. “But if she throws me off a balcony, I’m haunting you.”

“Noted.”

The first walk did not go well.

She refused.

I watched from the upper hall as Dorian tried persuasion, sarcasm, bribery, exaggerated boredom, and finally blunt honesty.

She crossed her arms and said No, to all of it.

So I stepped into her room before I could stop myself.

Her eyes snapped to me instantly guarded, irritated, and yet tired.

“Walk,” I said simply.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not a prisoner you can parade.”

“It’s ten minutes.”

“Still no.”

“You’re shaking,” I said quietly.

That made her freeze.

Rage hides many things. Not tremors.

“I’m fine,” she snapped.

“You’re not.”

“Stop pretending you care.”

I held her gaze. “Walk.”

“Make me.”

She really wanted me to remain the bad guy in her story. And honestly, i will play the role over and over again if it meant I got to keep her safe and alive.

So I did the only thing I could, I turned and started walking away toward the door.

“If you don’t come,” I said over my shoulder, “I will carry you. And i swear, it wont be soft or romantic!”

She swore viciously, then she followed.

My heart almost caved in when i heard her footsteps on the floor following behind me... It was a small victory, but I took it.

I didn’t walk beside her. Dorian did. I stayed ahead...visible but not pressing. Giving space without disappearing completely from her line of sight.

She lasted eight minutes before fatigue hit her steps. Dorian slowed to match her pace while I pretended not to notice.

The bond pulsed, strained but it was steadier than before, which was another progress.

Painful, stubborn progress.

By evening she had eaten twice and been outside once.

It was not enough, but it was more than yesterday.

I stood alone in the corridor outside her door that night, listening to the rhythm of her breathing through wood, and stone, and bond.

Uneven, But deeper.

She was asleep.

My wolf settled for the first time all day.

“I can’t fix what I did,” I said quietly to the empty hall. “But I can keep you alive long enough to hate me properly.”

The bond warmed faintly...like she was responding to me, which was very unlikely, but i let myself pretend it was true.

I stayed another minute.

Then I left before I was tempted to knock.