Unwanted Protection

The first thing that registered in Kaelith’s returning consciousness was the heavy, persistent throbbing behind her eyes. She tried to blink, but her eyelids felt like sandpaper, glued shut by a thick, chemical lethargy that made her entire body feel like lead. When she finally managed to force them open, her vision was a blurry, watery mess of muted colors and harsh morning light. She groaned softly under her breath, her throat feeling dry and raw, as if she had swallowed hot, dusty ashes. Her gaze drifted lazily to her right, where the pale morning light cut through her cheap, cracked blinds. She wondered why she hadn’t opened the window before falling asleep. She always let the cool night breeze in to clear out the stuffiness of the small room, but last night had been entirely different.

As her eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness, her confusion mounted rapidly. Her bedroom floor was barely visible. Instead, several large cardboard boxes were stacked neatly against her faded wallpaper. They were sealed tightly with thick brown packing tape, each scrawled with bold, black marker labels: *Photos*, *Bathroom*, *Books*, *Winter Coats*. The room looked less like her cozy, messy sanctuary and more like a storage unit.

Before she could process the strange sight, the sharp sound of a drawer scraping open to her left made her breath catch. She turned her head, and her heart gave a sudden, violent leap.

Her fated-mate, Graeven, was standing casually in front of her wooden dresser, his massive, imposing back turned to her. In an instant, the chaotic memories of the last few nights came rushing back. She had gotten drunk—completely blackout drunk—at the bar with Torin. She remembered the burning sensation in her chest, the suffocating darkness, and then... waking up to Graeven holding her, looking down at her as if he had just dragged her soul back from the very edge of death. She also remembered the stinging slap she had delivered to his cheek, and the bitter curse she had spat at him before slipping back into the dark.

She stared at his back. He was dressed far more casually than she remembered, wearing a soft grey hoodie with one sleeve pushed up to his elbow, exposing the thick, corded muscle of his forearm. A pair of dark blue jeans hugged his powerful thighs and glutes perfectly. He was completely barefoot, wearing only thick black socks, which made his massive frame look strangely comfortable in her cramped bedroom. Even from behind, the sheer, raw power radiating from him was staggering, making her skin prickle with a strange, hot awareness. Her eyes lingered on his rear end, tracing the firm contours of his frame in those jeans.

"It’s rude to stare," Graeven said, his deep, resonant rumble cutting through the silence of the room.

Kaelith blinked, her cheeks warming with a sudden flush of embarrassment as she finally noticed what he was doing. He was reaching into her open dresser drawer, pulling out her delicate, lace-trimmed underwear, folding them with neat, practiced precision, and placing them gently into an open cardboard box.

"How did you know I was awake?" she asked, her voice dry and raspy.

"I’ve been listening to you breathe," he explained calmly, his hands never pausing their task as he refolded a silk camisole. "Your breathing pattern hitched exactly ninety seconds ago. Your heart rate spiked shortly after. It's quite easy to tell when someone wakes up when you are paying close attention."

Kaelith pushed herself up onto her elbows, the thin bedsheets slipping down her chest. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Packing your things."

"I can see that," she snapped, her irritation overriding her lingering grogginess. "But why?"

"So that when you woke up, you’d be ready to leave faster. I’m taking you to my home in the Blackwood territory."

"Says who?"

Graeven’s hands finally stilled. He set the folded top down into the box and turned slowly to face her, folding his thick arms across his chest. In the shadowed corners of her small room, the sharp, rugged angles of his face cast deep shadows, making his expression hard to read. But his dark, intense eyes were locked directly onto hers, burning with a challenging, unyielding light.

Kaelith swallowed hard, the sheer physical presence of this massive man in her small space making her heart patter wildly. She glanced down, relieved to find herself still fully dressed in the simple clothes she had worn to work the day before.

"Says your fated-mate," he answered softly, the words carrying an undeniable weight.

Kaelith let out a dry, bitter scoff, rolling her eyes as she sat up. "Oh, so now you’ve decided to play the role of the devoted fated-mate? Where was this sudden protectiveness over the last two days, huh? What happened to you coming to talk to me like you promised?"

He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, his fingers brushing against the exact spot where her palm had connected with his face. "I had business that kept me away."

"Business?"

He merely nodded once, offering no further explanation.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, *Sir*," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she swung her legs over the side of the mattress, "but I have an actual life here. I have an apartment I pay rent for, a hard-won job that I love, and friends who actually care about me—"

"I’ve already spoken to Paxton," Graeven interrupted smoothly. "You’ve officially quit."

"What?" Kaelith’s jaw dropped in absolute shock. The sheer audacity of his words sent a jolt of pure adrenaline through her veins. She stood up, her body trembling with white-hot anger as she confronted him. "What gives you the right to do that? You can't just make executive decisions about my life!"

"Again, I’m your—"

"Fated-mate, right!" Kaelith rolled her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose to stave off the mounting headache. "Look, I don't know how things work in your fancy Lycan packs, but I like to work. It took me a long time to find someone who would hire me despite my status as a rogue. If you think you can just march in here, usher me to your packhouse, and treat me like some kind of barefoot broodmare locked in a kitchen, you are sorely mistaken."

Graeven’s eyes darkened, a dangerous, intensely focused gleam replacing his calm demeanor. He took two long, slow, deliberate strides toward her.

The sheer physical dominance radiating from him stole the air right out of Kaelith’s lungs. Her instinct to survive screamed at her to retreat, and she took a hasty step back. But her bedroom was too small. The back of her knees hit the wooden frame of the bed, and she fell backward with a soft, startled squeak, bouncing slightly on the mattress.

Before she could scramble away, Graeven was over her.

He trapped her instantly, pinning her body beneath his. He drove one heavy, muscular knee directly between her thighs, forcing her legs apart and locking her lower body to the mattress. He planted his large hands on either side of her head, his broad chest looming over her like a wall of solid muscle.

Kaelith’s breath hitched. His physical proximity was overwhelming, his scent of rain, pine, and raw, untamed power filling her senses. She instinctively tried to squeeze her legs together, but her thighs only clamped firmly against his solid, unyielding knee.

Graeven’s eyes, dark and intense, roamed slowly down her face, lingering on her parted lips before dropping down to her chest, then lower to where her thighs were locked against his leg. When his gaze snapped back up to meet hers, a slow, teasing grin spread across his face.

"Lycans are not quite so medieval, Kaelith," he whispered, his deep, rumbling voice vibrating against her skin. "I make more than enough to keep us comfortable, but I fully expected you would want to work. There are plenty of jobs in the local town, I assure you. Though..."

He leaned down further, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck, trailing a path of fire up to her ear.

"If you would honestly prefer to spend your days trapped beneath me in this exact position, I could easily arrange that."

He bit down gently on her earlobe, a sharp, possessive nip that made a quiet gasp escape her throat.

"Get off," she muttered, though her voice lacked any real bite. She pressed both of her hands flat against his broad, solid chest, pushing with all the strength she could muster. He let out a low, amused chuckle, but he complied, shifting his weight and stepping back to give her space.

"Not funny, Graeven," she said, sitting up and smoothing down her rumpled shirt, her heart still hammering against her ribs from the intense physical proximity.

He shrugged, his playful demeanor completely unbothered. "I thought it was." He turned back toward the dresser, picking up another stack of her clothes. "Go ahead and take a shower. There is zero chance of me letting you stay here after what happened. I should be done packing the rest of your things in a few hours, and then we'll leave. I only have a couple of days left to get you settled at my place before I have to return to my duties."

Kaelith stood up, her anger returning. "What happened? I got drunk, Graeven. Since when is having a few too many drinks a crime?"

Graeven stopped. He turned slowly, his playful attitude vanishing in an instant, replaced by a grave, suffocating seriousness that made the temperature in the room feel like it had dropped ten degrees.

"Your drinking is not what bothered me, Kaelith," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "The fact that you were poisoned with a lethal dose of Wolfsbane did."

Kaelith froze, her mind struggling to process the words. "Wolfsbane? What are you talking about?"

Graeven ran a tired hand down his face, looking suddenly exhausted. He stepped back toward her, as if some invisible magnetic force made it impossible for him to stand more than a few feet away from her for very long. He reached out, his rough, warm thumb gently brushing over her cheekbone, his touch incredibly tender.

"You were targeted, Baby," he murmured, his raw, protective sincerity bleeding through his voice. "We don't know who did it or what their motive was yet. But I am going to find out. Until my team hunts down the culprit, I need you at my cottage where I can keep you safe. I won't lose you."

Kaelith stared at him, completely taken aback by the sheer, unvarnished emotion in his eyes. The realization of how close she had come to dying settled heavily in her gut.

"What about Torin?" she asked softly, her thoughts drifting to her friend. "Is he okay? Was he hurt?"

Graeven’s jaw clenched, a low, possessive snarl escaping his throat at the mention of the male wolf. "He's fine. It wasn't the alcohol that did this." He turned back to the dresser, packing her remaining things with significantly less care than before. "Now, go take a shower. We've already wasted two full days."

Kaelith blinked, her heart stopping. "Wait... two days? I've been asleep for two entire days?"

"Yes," Graeven said, watching her carefully as she stood frozen on the threshold of her small bathroom.

"And you've been here the whole time?"

"Yes."

"With Junia?"

A slow, knowing smirk played at the corner of his lips as he read the sudden tension in her shoulders. "Does that bother you, Little Fox?"

Kaelith bristled, a strange, completely unfamiliar jolt of hot, possessive jealousy flaring deep in her chest. It was wild, primitive, and terrifying, surprising even herself. She had never felt this kind of territory-marking instinct before. "Of course not. She's my best friend."

"Mhmm," he hummed, turning back to the packing box with an amused chuckle.

Kaelith stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her but leaving it cracked slightly. She began to strip off her dirty clothes, her mind racing with a million questions. Before she could turn on the water, she heard the heavy front door of her apartment open, followed by the sound of footsteps entering her bedroom.

"Hey there, muscly man," Junia’s voice rang out, far too cheerful and sweet for Kaelith’s liking. "I made breakfast. And don't worry, I made sure there were absolutely no mushrooms in yours this time."

Kaelith’s blood boiled. She crept closer to the cracked door, peeking through the sliver of space.

To her absolute fury, Junia was standing entirely too close to Graeven, her eyes shamelessly scanning his muscular physique, lingering on his broad back and the tight fit of his jeans. Kaelith’s inner wolf let out a silent, vicious growl. How dare she? Junia had spent two entire days alone with her fated-mate while Kaelith was unconscious. She already knew his culinary preferences. What else did they talk about? Had they stayed up late whispering? Had he looked at Junia the way he looked at her?

"Do you want to come out and join me in the kitchen?" Junia coaxed, her voice dripping with playful charm.

Kaelith didn't wait another second. She wrapped a towel tightly around her chest, securing it over her cleavage, and threw the bathroom door open with a sharp click.

Junia jumped back slightly, surprised, while Graeven merely leaned lazily against the dresser. His dark eyes instantly dropped to the swell of Kaelith’s breasts above the towel, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his lips. Kaelith glared at him, her eyes narrowing in silent warning, before turning her fiery gaze to her best friend.

"Little Fox!" Junia squealed, her face lighting up with genuine relief as she rushed forward to wrap Kaelith in a tight hug. "Oh my god, I am so glad you're finally awake! I was so incredibly worried about you!"

Kaelith hugged her back mechanically, her eyes still locked on Graeven. He caught her possessive gaze, gave her a slow, deliberate wink, and began to back out of the room.

"I'll leave you two to catch up," Graeven said, his deep voice laced with pure amusement as he shut the bedroom door behind him.

The moment the door clicked shut, Kaelith stepped back, crossing her arms over the towel. "What on earth was that?"

"What was what?" Junia asked, a mischievous, devilish grin spreading across her face.

"He is mine," Kaelith hissed, her voice low and fiercely territorial. "Hands off."

Junia burst into a loud, hysterical cackle, flopping backward onto the unmade bed. "Oh, Goddess! Don't worry, babe. I was only appreciating the view. Have you actually looked at him? That man's body is a work of art. You hit the jackpot."

"And other than drooling over my mate, what else has been going on between you two over the last forty-eight hours?" Kaelith demanded, tapping her foot on the cold hardwood floor.

Junia sat up on her elbows, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I swear, I love seeing you this jealous. And I am positive he loves it even more," she laughed. When Kaelith took a threatening step forward, Junia quickly held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, relax! Seriously, Kae, that man hasn't left your bedside for a single second since he carried you in here. He wouldn't even sleep, and he refused to eat a single bite because you weren't awake to eat. The only things he’s said to me the entire time were 'I'm taking her home' and 'she's allergic.' And that was only because I kept nagging him to eat my mushroom soup. I was highly insulted, by the way. Everyone loves my soup."

Kaelith let out a soft sigh, the heavy knot of jealousy in her chest finally dissolving, replaced by a warm, sweet ache. "I'm sorry, Juni."

"Eh, don't worry about it. I completely get it," Junia said, waving her hand dismissively. She paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "But... do you remember my 'Midnight Eclipse'?"

Kaelith frowned, trying to remember. "The incredibly gorgeous, mysterious Lycan who visits the bar on Saturdays? The one you spent every Sunday morning raving about?"

"Yeah..." Junia said, pointing her thumb toward the door Graeven had just walked through. "That's him."

Kaelith’s jaw dropped in absolute shock. "You traitor!"

"Hey, how was I supposed to know?" Junia laughed, holding her hands up again. "I swear, he is all yours, girl. I am officially retired from drooling over him."

"Damn right you are," Kaelith warned, though a small, playful smile finally tugged at her lips.

"Fine, fine," Junia said with a playful wink. She looked around the small bedroom, her smile fading as her eyes landed on the neat stacks of moving boxes. "So... he's really taking you away, isn't he?"

"It looks like it," Kaelith whispered, the heavy reality of the situation settling over her. She walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her friend.

"Honestly, Kae, I think it's for the best. He can keep you safe. I can see it in the way he looks at you. He would burn the world down before he let anyone hurt you."

"Maybe you could come with me," Kaelith murmured, her throat tightening at the thought of leaving her only friend behind.

Junia let out a soft snicker, trying to lighten the heavy mood. "And spend the next year listening to you two screaming each other's names through the walls? No thanks, babe. I like my eardrums intact."

"Promise me you'll visit," Kaelith insisted, her eyes growing watery.

"Of course I will. I promise. It's going to be so quiet around here without you."

"Yeah... it's going to be weird for me too. Trying to figure out what it actually means to be a Lycan. Learning about my wolf."

"Oh, yeah, by the way, thanks for keeping that little detail from me," Junia joked lightly.

The two friends fell into a comfortable, heavy silence, the reality of their imminent separation hanging in the air. Junia let out a long, quiet sigh, her expression turning incredibly serious.

"Kae... I think you should tell him."

Kaelith’s entire body went completely rigid. "He already knows I'm a Lycan, Juni. We talked about it."

"Not that," Junia said softly, her eyes searching Kaelith’s pale face. "I mean about the man you're running from. The reason you came to this city in the first place."

"I'm not—"

"Don't lie to me," Junia interrupted gently, squeezing her hand tighter. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me the details. But Graeven is your fated-mate. He has the power, the pack, and the strength to protect you from whatever is in your past. You have to trust him."

"I can't," Kaelith whispered, her voice barely audible as a cold, paralyzing dread gripped her chest.

"Why not?"

Kaelith stared down at the faded floorboards, her vision blurring with unshed tears. The weight of her dark secret felt like a physical, suffocating hand around her throat.

"Because..." Kaelith swallowed hard, her heart hammering against her ribs. "If he ever finds out who I really am... he won't protect me, Junia. He'll leave me."