Chapter 4 – The Alpha Sleeps on the Floor

Elira

After I finished the last sip of tea and a slice of warm bread thick with honey, Caelan stood and motioned toward the back hall of the lodge. I followed him, still barefoot, my skin warm from the bath, my bones still humming with exhaustion.

He pushed open the last door at the end of the corridor. A wide room, dimly lit, with a large bed of furs in the center and a stone hearth on the far wall. A folded blanket and a spare pillow sat on the floor beside the fire.

“I’m sorry I don’t have anywhere else for you to sleep tonight,” he said. “There are extra rooms, but they haven’t been aired out. I’ll sleep on the floor. You can have the bed.”

I blinked at him. “You don’t have to—”

“I want you to be safe,” he said, gently cutting me off. “And I want you to rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

There was no weight to the words. No suggestion. No expectation. Just quiet finality.

He stepped aside so I could enter first. The bed was wide enough to swallow me whole. I hadn’t slept on something that soft in… I didn’t even know how long. Stone floors, straw piles, cold cages—those were what I’d grown used to.

This felt like a lie. But I was too tired to argue with comfort.

I crawled onto the bed, pulled one of the fur covers over me, and leaned back against the pillow. The scent of chamomile lingered in my breath. The heat of the tea pooled in my chest.

“Sleep, Lira,” he said softly from somewhere near the hearth.

I didn’t even answer. The dark took me before I could. I dreamed of nothing. 

When I woke, the light was gold and gray through the frost-laced window, and the fire had burned low. I blinked at the ceiling, disoriented for a moment—until I realized I wasn’t alone.

A low huff of breath reached my ears. I turned my head. A wolf—massive, silver-gray, with darker streaks across his haunches—was curled beside the hearth.

He was asleep. No… he was pretending to be asleep. I could feel it. The tension in his stillness. The awareness in every breath.

His eyes cracked open the moment I moved. And in the blink of a heartbeat, the wolf was gone.

Fur gave way to flesh, bones realigning with a quiet crack of magic. A man stood where the wolf had been.

Caelan.

Naked.

I startled and immediately turned my head, throwing an arm over my eyes like that would do anything. Heat flooded my face. Gods, I’d seen him—broad shoulders, scarred chest, narrow waist, the cut of muscle down his stomach that vanished into—

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I had to shift back fast. My wolf was trying to completely take over.”

His voice was calm, but there was a rasp to it now—like something had scraped its way up his throat and hadn’t left.

“I didn’t mean to—” I started, still not looking at him.

“It’s fine.” I heard the rustle of fabric, the tug of leather. “I should’ve warned you.”

“No, I—” I dropped my arm and sat up slowly, keeping my eyes locked on the fire. “I’ve just never woken up to that before.”

Not that I minded the view. Which was a problem.

When I finally looked back, he was dressed—dark pants, a simple linen shirt pulled over his head. He ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair and offered me a small, sheepish smile.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” I lied.

He quirked a brow.

“Okay, you did,” I admitted. “But I’ll survive.”

His smile deepened, just a little. “I’ll try to keep the nudity to a minimum.”

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood, stretching until my spine popped. My limbs were still sore from the ride and the night before, but it was a clean kind of sore. The kind that came from exhaustion, not bruising.

And I’d slept. Gods, I’d actually slept.

“How long was I out?” I asked.

“Thirteen hours,” he said. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

I rubbed my eyes, startled. “That long?”

“You needed it.”

He wasn’t wrong. But still—my guard had never dropped like that before. Not even once. And now here I was, alone in a strange pack, standing in the Alpha’s room, still smelling lavender on my skin and trying not to think about the fact that I had absolutely stared at his cock.

And maybe fantasized a little. And maybe hated myself for it. Because he’d been kind. Gentle. Careful. And kindness had a way of slipping past your armor when you weren’t looking.

Caelan crossed to the hearth and crouched beside it, poking at the embers until a few new flames caught. Then he stood and looked over at me.

“Okay,” he said softly. “Let’s talk about this so-called curse.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I need to know everything,” he said. “Everything that’s happened to you. The others. The bonds. The deaths. What changed each time, what didn’t.”

He held my gaze with quiet seriousness. “If we’re going to figure out a plan, I need to understand the pattern. If there even is one.”

My heart tripped. Not because of the question. But because no one had ever asked me that before. Not once.

No alpha had wanted to know what happened with the ones before him. No one had cared how long I’d suffered, what I’d seen, what I’d lost. I’d been passed like a burden from pack to pack—branded dangerous, cursed, insane.

But not once had anyone asked: What happened to you?

I opened my mouth. Then closed it. Swallowed. And nodded once.

“All right,” I whispered. “I’ll tell you.”