Chapter Four – Restless

Killian’s POV)

The night was too quiet. Too still. I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t let my mind rest, couldn’t let my wolf rest. Every instinct inside me screamed her name. Nyelle. My mate. I could smell her in the east wing, clinging to the air like fire. Sweet, sharp, alive. The pull was unbearable. I tried to tell myself it was patience, strategy—but the truth was far simpler: I wanted her near. Needed her near. My wolf’s growls, low and insistent, left me no choice.

I stalked the halls, boots echoing on marble, hands flexing into fists. My mind raced with every memory of her—the way she had flinched when I first touched her chin, the way her small frame had stiffened under my presence, the subtle sparks that had danced across her skin. Every inch of her set my blood alight.

Ryker’s voice intruded, calm and measured. “Killian, you need to temper yourself. She’s scared. One misstep and you could drive her away.”

I clenched my jaw. Patience. Yes, I knew I should be patient. I had given orders to the pack—no one was to harm her, no one was to frighten her further. I had set boundaries. But my wolf wasn’t interested in orders. My wolf wasn’t interested in control. It wanted her, demanded her, and the beast inside me refused to be quiet.

I stopped outside her door, hand hovering over the carved wood. I could smell her—fresh, faintly sweet, desperately alive—and every inhale set my wolf further alight. I pressed my palm to the door, taking a steadying breath. One step. One careful step.

The door opened, and there she was. Small. Fragile. Alert. Every muscle taut, every eye wide with wariness. Sparks raced across my skin, pulling me forward even as my mind screamed for control.

“You will come with me,” I said, voice low and controlled, though I could feel the growl in my chest betraying me.

She didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. Just stared. My wolf snarled, frustrated, impatient. I could feel its claws rake against my chest, its teeth gnashing against my restraint.

Damn it, I muttered. I wanted to cross the room, sweep her into my arms, feel her pressed to me. I wanted to calm my wolf with the one thing that would quiet it completely. But I didn’t. Not yet.

We walked through the gardens. The night air was crisp, scented with moonlit blooms, but I barely noticed. She walked stiffly beside me, silent, alert. Every glance at her made my wolf’s claws dig deeper into me. She was mine. That fact alone made every other thought irrelevant.

“Killian, are you certain this is wise?” Ryker’s voice echoed in my mind again. She is scared. You need to give her space.

I clenched my fists, forcing calm into my voice. “I know what I’m doing.”

But did I? Every moment I spent near her, every subtle brush of her hand against mine—even accidental—sent sparks through me that my wolf could barely contain. The need to claim her fully, to protect her, to possess her… it gnawed at my restraint.

By the time we returned to the palace, I was frayed to the edges of control. The east wing felt impossibly far. The corridor was too long. Her door was too thick. My wolf whined, desperate. Mine. Mine. Mine.

I didn’t wait. I went to her room.

The moment I stepped inside, she stiffened, cheeks flushing faintly, eyes wide with uncertainty. Her body radiated tension and alertness, and yet… she didn’t flee. Didn’t fight. My wolf growled, clawing at my chest. The restraint I forced on myself threatened to snap.

“You will sleep in my room from now on,” I said, keeping my voice firm, controlled. “No exceptions.”

Her eyes widened, a delicate shiver running along her spine. Good. She understood authority—but I needed more than that. I needed her close. Needed her warmth. Needed her scent.

“We will not… we will not do anything you do not want,” I added, softer this time. “Nothing. Not until you are ready.”

Her blush deepened, subtle but burning, and I could feel my wolf relax slightly, soothed by proximity alone. She didn’t resist, didn’t speak. She simply remained stiff, cautious, distant.

When we got into bed, she laid far away, rigid, every inch a barrier. I groaned low in my chest, frustration rolling off me like heat from a forge. My wolf snarled, claws scraping against restraint, demanding release.

I couldn’t wait. Wouldn’t wait. One swift motion, and I drew her tightly against me. Her small, trembling frame fit perfectly against my chest. She shivered, tiny breaths hitching in response to my touch.

The wolf inside me purred, finally calmed. My hands rested on her back, pulling her closer, feeling her warmth seep into me. Her heartbeat, rapid beneath my palm, echoed against my own.

I lowered my chin to her shoulder, pressing close, listening to the subtle shifts of her body. Tense. Frightened. Curious. Defiant in her own quiet way. And entirely mine.

I would protect her. I would dominate the beast inside me with patience, with restraint. But one thing was certain: I could not, would not, ever let her go.

And as the night stretched on, my wolf curled close, content—for now.