Chapter Twenty-Three

Aurora POV

Maybe I did it to start trouble. Maybe I wanted to remind Killian he doesn’t own me, no matter how deep the bond pulls or how hot his mouth felt on my skin. Because the second we got back, he went right back to pretending I didn’t exist. Didn’t say a word. Didn’t look at me. Just tossed a rag in my direction like I was nothing more than a servant and told me to clean the floor before tomorrow’s meeting.

So yeah, I got pissed. And maybe I wanted him to feel it. Maybe I needed him to.

Touching myself wasn’t about pleasure. Not really. It was a statement. A message I knew he’d receive loud and clear through the bond. I wanted him uncomfortable. Distracted. Desperate. Just like he left me. I only hope it worked.

The house is quiet now as I slip out of my room, bare feet soft against the wood floor. I keep my steps light as I make my way down to the kitchen. I’m not supposed to be here. That rule’s been drilled into me more times than I can count. I eat when food is brought to me, and only then. Usually when my mother and Killian eat together, which lately I’ve been doing everything in my power to avoid.

But if I’m quick, if I just grab something small, maybe I can get away with it and avoid the whole scene entirely.

I don’t go for anything fancy. Just yogurt and a bit of fruit. I move quietly, keeping my movements controlled as I reach for a bowl, but the second I open the fridge, footsteps echo behind me, heavy and confident. Shit.

I freeze for half a second, already bracing for what’s coming before I even turn.

Cain.

He’s standing in the doorway like he owns the place, like he already thinks he’s Alpha. The smirk on his face tells me everything I need to know.

“You’re quite the rule breaker lately, aren’t you?” he says, stepping forward like a predator that just spotted an easy target.

I square my shoulders, refusing to shrink. “I have permission,” I bite out, not even bothering to make it sound nice.

Cain’s smirk twists into something cruel. “Did you really just speak to me like that?” He moves closer, and I take a step back, but it’s useless. He’s faster. “As the future Alpha of this pack, you should really be more respectful. Especially since I could throw you out the second I take over.”

I shrug like it doesn’t matter. “Please do. I’d skip my way out of here if your father told me I was banished.”

That gets to him. His face twists, and in one swift movement, his hand closes around my throat and slams me back into the wall. The cold hits my spine, but I don’t flinch. I don’t give him that.

I lift my chin instead, meeting his gaze head-on, refusing to look afraid.

“You’re really ungrateful, aren’t you?” he sneers, his fingers tightening.

“I just know my worth,” I snap. “And it’s sure as hell not as this pack’s slave.”

He laughs, a low, mocking sound, and squeezes harder. “You’re going to be punished in front of everyone. You know that, right?”

“Like I care.” My voice is hoarse but steady.

“Oh, you will. Taking food without permission. Lying to me about it.” He leans in close enough that I can smell the bitterness on his breath. “I’m going to enjoy watching you pay for that.”

“I’m not lying,” I say, and it’s only half a lie now. “I had permission.”

He grins, too pleased with himself. “Another lie. That’ll double your punishment. You must really like it.”

Before I can say anything else, another voice cuts in, it's sharp, commanding, and lethal.

“Step away from her. Now.”

Killian.

Cain turns slowly, not releasing me right away. His expression doesn’t shift much. If anything, he looks more smug, like he thinks Killian will back him up.

“She’s stealing food,” Cain says, still holding my throat, “and lying about it. Rules state that the one to whom she lies to and who catches her can punish her.”

Killian’s eyes don’t move from mine at first. And I don’t drop my gaze. I just lift my chin higher, daring him to call me out. Daring him to punish me himself.

But then he speaks. Calm. Steady. Dangerous.

“She’s not lying. I gave her permission.”

The room falls still.

Even I freeze.

What?

My brows pull together as I stare at him. Why would he lie? There’s no way he expected me to come down here and sneak food in the middle of the night. And yet... his voice is steady. Unflinching.

Cain scowls. “Then maybe you should make that clear to the rest of the pack, so things like this don’t happen.”

Killian doesn’t move. “Take your hand off her.”

Cain hesitates, then lets go with a muttered, “Lucky. This time.” He steps back but shoots me a look that promises he won’t forget this.

“Maybe father should let the pack know she’s getting special treatment,” he adds with a sneer, then turns and stalks out.

My heart’s still racing, my throat sore from his grip. I don’t speak. I don’t thank Killian. I don’t move.

I just stand there, breathing hard, and wait.

The silence stretches, thick enough to choke on. I still haven’t moved from where Cain had me pinned, my back pressed against the cold wall, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. My pulse hasn’t slowed, and my throat still burns from the pressure of his grip.

Killian just stands there. Watching me. Studying me like I’m some puzzle he hasn’t quite solved. The worst part? I don’t know if he’s angry at Cain, or at me.

“You lied,” I say finally, breaking the silence. My voice is scratchy and quiet, but steady. “You didn’t give me permission.”

“I did now,” he says simply, walking past me like that answers everything. He goes to the counter, picks up the bowl I was about to use, and starts rinsing it out like this is just another ordinary morning.

“You covered for me,” I press, pushing off the wall, folding my arms tightly across my chest. “Why?”

Killian doesn’t look at me. “Because he shouldn’t have touched you.”

That’s it... that’s all he gives me.

Anger sparks low in my belly, burning through the fear Cain left behind. “So you lie to protect me, but you can’t even look at me after what happened between us?”

His back stiffens, just slightly, before he finally turns to face me. His jaw is tight, eyes darker than they should be this early in the morning.

“You’re not ready to understand what that meant,” he says, voice low and tense. “And I’m not ready to make it worse.”

I let out a sharp laugh, short and bitter. “Worse for who? For you? Or for me?”

He steps closer then, slowly, like he’s measuring every inch between us. “For both of us.”

I hold my ground even though my heart’s pounding again, for a very different reason this time. “I’m not some fragile little thing you can shove into a corner and ignore, Killian. If touching me was a mistake, say it. But don’t pretend it didn’t mean something.”

His gaze drops briefly to my lips, then lower, to where the collar of my shirt hangs slightly loose. I didn’t change after last night. I wanted him to feel what I did. And he did. I know he did.

“You knew I’d feel it,” he says quietly. “Did you do it to hurt me?”

I don’t answer right away. I shift, wrapping my arms tighter around myself, like I can keep everything in if I just hold on hard enough. “Maybe I did it so I didn’t feel so fucking alone.”

That lands. I see it in the way his expression shifts, in the way his lips press into a tight line like he’s biting back something he doesn’t want to say.

“You’re not alone,” he says after a beat, the words like gravel scraping out of his throat. “That’s the problem.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he growls, voice rising slightly, “that every time I try to keep my distance, you do something like that.” He gestures to me, to my flushed skin, to the way my scent still lingers in the air. “You call to me like I belong to you. Like I’m not supposed to fight it.”

“I didn’t ask you to fight it!” I snap. “You’re the one who touches me like I’m yours, then walks away like it never happened. I didn’t make this bond. You did.”

He closes the distance then, suddenly, and I back up until I hit the edge of the counter. His hands don’t touch me, but he’s close. Too close. I can feel the heat rolling off him, and the look in his eyes is dangerous.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he says, low and rough. “No idea what it costs me to walk away.”

“Then stop walking,” I whisper, breath catching. “Just… stop.”

Killian stares at me like he wants to say something else, something that would wreck both of us, but instead, he reaches past me and grabs an apple from the fruit bowl.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he mutters, turning away again. “You still belong to this pack. You still follow the rules.”

My throat tightens. I knew better than to expect more, but it still feels like a slap.

“And you still pretend you don’t want me,” I say softly, bitterly. “Even when every part of you says otherwise.”

His shoulders go rigid, but he doesn’t turn back.

I don’t wait for him to. I grab the yogurt from the counter and leave the kitchen without another word.

Let him choke on the truth for once.