Chapter 18

Freya

   I woke slowly, the kind of slow that only happened after real sleep, and for a moment, I didn’t open my eyes. I just lay there beneath the heavy warmth of blankets and listened to the quiet creak of the cabin settling around us. 

I opened my eyes to see the pale morning light slip through the thin curtains, soft and silver against the wooden walls and surprisingly, Caden was still asleep beside me.

One of his arms rested loosely around my waist, heavy and warm over the blanket, like even in sleep he had drifted toward me without thinking about it. His face looked different like this. He looked softer and younger, like the sharp alertness he carried during the day had disappeared completely, leaving behind something unexpectedly peaceful.

I stayed still for a while and took inventory of myself. I didn't panic, I didn't feel ashamed, and there was no regret creeping in afterward to poison the memory of it.

I waited for it anyway, because I had spent most of my life expecting happiness to arrive carrying consequences behind it, but nothing came.

Instead, I felt warm, rested and clear headed in a way I hadn’t realized I’d been missing for years. I was still basking in it when Eliza woke up, and her appearance wasn't gradual. 

One second she was quiet, and the next she was fully awake inside me, alert and immediate like a door thrown open in a storm.

“He is not ours, Freya.” her words echoed inside me, and the statement landed with startling clarity.

“I know that,” I closed my eyes briefly, while answering her silently.

Eliza went quiet for a beat, and I could feel her assessing the truth of it. She had always known when I lied to myself, usually before I did.

Apparently satisfied, she settled slightly, though not fully.

“Ours is still out there,” she said and my chest tightened. She didn’t say his name and she didn’t have to, because I knew exactly who she meant.

I had known for much longer than I wanted to admit. The truth of it sat between me and my wolf like a living thing, heavy and unavoidable, but I wasn’t ready to touch it this morning. I wasn’t ready to follow the thread of it all the way to where it led.

So I set it aside carefully. I wasn't denying it, I was simply postponing it, and there was a difference. 

Very carefully, I slipped out from beneath the blankets and sat at the edge of the bed. The cold floor bit at the soles of my feet immediately as I reached for my clothes quietly, tugging my shirt back over my skin before pulling on my boots.

Behind me, the mattress shifted.

“You’re sneaky for someone wearing boots,” Caden muttered, voice rough with sleep.

I glanced over my shoulder, and despite myself, a ghost of a smirk made its way to my lips. 

He was sitting up now, one hand dragging through his hair while the blankets pooled low around his waist. Sleep still lingered heavily in his eyes, softening the usual steadiness of his expression.

“You were asleep,” I said.

“So were you.”

“I recover faster.”

“Clearly.” A faint smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

He studied me for a second then, not awkwardly, not searching for meaning where there wasn’t any. He was just looking at me, the way one admired the sun rising. 

“Do you want breakfast?” He asked simply and the normalcy of the question almost made me laugh.

“Yes,” I said. “Very much.”

“Good.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Because I’m starving.”

That finally did make me smile and by the time we walked toward the main hall, the settlement was only just beginning to wake fully. Smoke curled from chimneys into the cold morning air, and somewhere nearby someone was chopping wood with more enthusiasm than skill.

The smell reached me before the hall did. There was bread, porridge and something sweet simmering beneath it all. Pregnancy had turned my sense of smell into an aggressive personal attack, but for once I didn’t mind it.

Inside, Mira stood near the cooking fire stirring a massive pot with the kind of concentration usually reserved for warfare.

She looked up exactly once when we entered, and her gaze moved from me to Caden and back again, then she returned to stirring without a word.

But the smallest possible smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.

“Mira.” I narrowed my eyes immediately.

“I said nothing,” she replied innocently. “I saw nothing too.” 

“You’re thinking very loudly.” I shot back, a flicker of a joke in my words. 

“That sounds like your problem.” she shot back and Caden snorted softly beside me as he reached for bowls before I could threaten either of them.

We settled at one of the long tables while the hall slowly filled around us, and for a while, we ate in comfortable silence.

Then Caden set his spoon down and looked at me directly.

“Last night was real,” he said.

“Yeah.” The straightforwardness of it made me pause. “I know.”

“I mean it, Freya.” His voice stayed calm and steady. “I care about you and none of that was pretend.”

“Caden.” Something in my chest softened quietly. “I know that too.”

“But I’m not confused about what this is,” he nodded once as he continued. “And I don’t think you are either.”

I looked down briefly at the steam curling from my cup.

“No,” I admitted and this time, he leaned back slightly against the bench.

“I don’t love you the way mates do,” he said plainly. “And you don’t love me that way either.”

The honesty in it didn’t hurt. If anything, it felt strangely relieving. It meant we didn't have any expectations from each other and no ownership hidden beneath tenderness.. Just the truth.

“What we had,” he continued, “was warm and honest ” His eyes held mine steadily. “And that matters too.”

I swallowed against the sudden tightness in my throat, because it did matter, maybe more than he realized.

“Thank you for asking first.”I stared at him for a long second before speaking. The words came out quieter than I intended, but he understood them instantly.

I saw it in the way his expression shifted. It wasn't pity or anger I saw in his eyes,but recognition, and I didn't miss the way his hand subtly brushed against mine. 

“You never should’ve had to be grateful for that,” he said softly.

My chest ached unexpectedly hard at the simple certainty in his voice and I looked away before the emotion on my face could become obvious.

Around us, the hall buzzed with low conversation and the scrape of chairs against wood. Someone laughed loudly near the fire while Helga shouted at somebody for trying to steal bread before it finished cooling.

Life moved normally around us, but Eliza stayed restless beneath my skin all day. She wasn't upset or angry, but she was extremely watchful. 

She was pacing underneath my skin and again and again, I felt her attention turning outward toward something distant I couldn’t yet see.

Like she could sense movement somewhere beyond the horizon, like something had already started approaching us long before we noticed it.

And she was waiting to see what shape it would take when it finally arrived.