53

53

(Kathryn’s POV)

I heard him before I saw him heavy boots on the old wooden floors, the faint creak of the front door shutting behind him. Cali lifted her head from my lap, ears perked like she could sense his energy better than I could. I wished I could curl up and disappear into her fur.

The packhouse was quiet. Too quiet. Everyone had gone to handle something, fight something, protect something. And me? I sat here like a porcelain doll tucked safely away in a glass cabinet while the world burned.

I didn’t know how to look at him. Not after tonight. Not after seeing what his world really was.

He stepped into the dayroom. He looked… tired. Older somehow. Blood scrubbed mostly clean, but not all of it. I wondered if it was his. If it was someone else’s. If he even cared anymore.

“Hey,” he said softly, like he didn’t want to scare me.

I didn’t answer. I just watched him. His shoulders dropped a fraction that little tell he hated giving away, like he’d been bracing for a punch that didn’t come.

He sat down across from me, but not too close. That hurt more than if he’d sat next to me like he didn’t trust himself to reach for me.

“I know you have questions,” he said. His voice was so rough. “Ask them. I’ll tell you anything. Everything.”

I stroked Cali’s ears, grounding myself in the soft warmth of her little body. Normal. Something normal in this nightmare.

“Did you hurt them?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t lie. “Some. Yes.”

I felt the tears prick my eyes, but I forced myself to hold his gaze. “Do you like it?”

That got him. His eyes closed for a second, like the question burned. “No,” he rasped. “Not the way you think. It’s not… pleasure. It’s survival. It’s protecting what’s mine. You.”

I looked down at Cali. She blinked up at me with that unbothered feline judgment, like none of this was complicated to her at all.

“Your world is… brutal,” I whispered. “You kill people, Tyler.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. I could see the pulse hammering in his neck. “I kill monsters, Kate. The ones who would burn your house down. The ones who would tear you apart to get to me. You think I like it? That I want this life for you?”

I didn’t know what to say. I felt like a child with my arms around a cat, trying to hold back a storm.

“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” he said. “But I need you to understand I will do whatever I have to do to keep you safe. Even if it means being the monster you think I am.”

I felt the tears spill over. He didn’t move to wipe them. He just watched me cry, his own eyes shining but never breaking.

I wanted to tell him to stay. To tell him to go. I wanted him to be someone else, someone softer. I wanted him exactly as he was because he was mine. And that terrified me.

“Can you just… sit here?” I asked finally, my voice trembling. “No orders. No warriors. No threats. Just… you. And me. And her.” I nodded to Cali, who was now purring loudly, blissfully ignorant of the monsters in this house.

He exhaled, like I’d given him permission to breathe. He got up, walked over, and lowered himself onto the couch beside me. Close enough to touch but waiting for me to choose.

I leaned my head against his shoulder. He smelled like smoke and the woods and blood but underneath it, I smelled the cedarwood and chocolate which made me feel like I was home. His hand brushed my hair back from my face, gentle. Careful. Like he thought I might break.

Maybe I already had. Maybe I was okay with it. We sat there in silence, me and the monster I loved, and the cat who would probably outlive us both. And for tonight just tonight that was enough.

*****

The first thing I heard was purring loud, insistent, right by my ear. Cali, kneading at my blanket like she owned the whole bed. Maybe she did. Maybe I was just a guest in her new kingdom now. I stretched, careful not to jostle her. The other side of the bed was cold and empty. I knew before I opened my eyes that he wasn’t there.

I sat up slowly. My head felt heavy, like all the questions I’d tried to drown in sleep had just sunk deeper instead. I glanced at the clock just past six. The house was quiet, but I knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

Tyler hadn’t come to bed last night. After we’d sat on the couch for… I don’t even know how long he'd kissed my forehead, whispered something about letting me rest, then slipped away to handle his pack. His war.

Part of me wanted to be angry that I’d woken up alone, that he kept so much of himself locked behind those eyes, those shoulders that carried everything for everyone but never set any of it down.

But the other part of me, the part that was still terrified was grateful for the space. For the soft bed. For the cat curled up on my pillow, a small piece of normal in a world that was anything but.

I forced myself out of bed. I splashed water on my face, put on one of Tyler’s old flannels I’d stolen from the closet, rolled the sleeves up over my hands. His scent settled around me like armor.

I found him in the kitchen, half-bent over the counter, papers spread out in front of him. Camerin was there too, arms crossed, murmuring low and serious. They stopped when they saw me.

Tyler straightened immediately, those wolf eyes scanning me like he needed to see if I’d survived the night. He looked tired. More human than Alpha in that moment.

“Morning,” I said softly, hugging the flannel tighter around me.

He came closer but didn’t touch me, not yet. “Did you sleep?” he asked.

I shrugged. “A little.” I glanced at Camerin. “Don’t stop because of me. I can go.”

“No.” Tyler’s voice left no room for argument. “Stay. Please.”

Camerin gave me a respectful nod, but his eyes flicked to Tyler like they’d been in the middle of something important. Something they didn’t want me hearing.

I raised an eyebrow. “Secrets already?”

Tyler ran a hand through his hair. “Not secrets. Just… plans.”

I stepped closer, folding my arms. “Plans for what? More fighting? More people getting hurt?”

Camerin cleared his throat, wisely stepping back. “I’ll give you two a minute, Alpha.” And then he was gone, melting into the hall like a ghost.

I looked at Tyler. He looked at me. The tension was there, thick enough to choke on.

“I have to protect what’s mine,” he said, voice low. “I have to keep them safe. Keep you safe. I don’t get to just stop because you hate the way it looks, Kate.”

I flinched. Not at the words but at how much truth they held. I hated that he was right. “What about me?” I asked quietly. “Who keeps me safe from this? From you?”

The pain that flashed through his eyes almost undid me. He stepped forward, hands hovering at my arms but not grabbing, not forcing. “You don’t need protection from me. Never from me.”

I laughed a bitter, broken sound. “Last night you tore men apart, Tyler. What happens when the monster you use on them turns on me?”

His hands dropped. He looked like I’d slapped him. “I would never!”

“Promise me.” I didn’t know where the words came from. Maybe they’d been waiting for the moment he’d stand still long enough to hear them. “Promise me you won’t become what you fight. Promise me you won’t lose yourself.” Silence. He stared at me like I’d just asked him to tear out his own heart and hand it over. Maybe I had.

Finally, he stepped closer, slow, deliberate, until his forehead rested against mine. His breath was warm. His voice, when it came, was a promise and a prayer all at once.

“I promise you, Kathryn, I will fight monsters every day of my life if it means you never have to. But I will never become one for you to fear. Never.” His arms wrapped around me then, pulling me into him, anchoring me to the world I wasn’t sure I wanted but couldn’t seem to leave. And for one fragile second, I let myself believe him.