CHAPTER 68: CHAPTER 68

Chapter 68

Kaeleen’s POV

The slam of her bedroom door echoed in the silence of the house. Or maybe it was just echoing in my head. I stood frozen in the middle of the living room, the space where she had been standing just moments ago now feeling like a gaping, cold void.

My lips still tingled with the phantom weight of hers. I could still taste her, a faint, sweet flavor like the tea she drank, mixed with something wild and uniquely her. For one perfect, stupid moment, I had thought it was the beginning of everything. That everything was going to change. That this moment would be different from the others but then I saw her eyes.

The sheer panic in them. It was a look I had sworn to myself I would never, ever be the cause of. The same look she had on her face when she had come to me the night she had escaped from Leon. The night when he had tried to take advantage of her.

"Idiot," I breathed into the empty room, the word tasting like ash. "You’re a fucking idiot, Kaeleen."

I ran a hand through my hair, gripping the strands tightly as if the physical pain could distract from the self-loathing in my gut. What had I been thinking? I had seen her pain, heard the story of her trauma. I saw it again when he came over and tried to take her back. I knew thatm I saw it all but at the end what did I do? The second she showed me a moment of vulnerability, of strength, I pushed. I took.

’No, you didn’t,’ a low voice rumbled in my mind. It was Ryker, my wolf, his own confusion and frustration bubbling to the surface. ’She is our mate. She responded. She tasted like home. It was right.’

"It wasn’t right," I muttered back, pacing the length of the room. "Look what it did to her. She looked terrified."

Ryker whined, a low sound of protest. ’She is scared of the past, not of us. She needs to know we are different. At least if you’re not, I am.’

I replied with an eyeroll. ’You know we are the same right?’ I asked him and he huffed.

"And I just proved we’re exactly the same with Leon, didn’t I?" I shot back, my voice a harsh whisper. "An Alpha taking what he wants without thinking."

I had to fix this. I had to apologize again, properly this time. I had to make her understand. I turned and strode out of the living room, taking the stairs two at a time, my mind racing. What would I even say? Sorry for kissing you?

No, that sounded like I regretted it, and that was the biggest lie of all. I mean I had apologised but after seeing the look on her face I regretted it. I shouldn’t have apologised. I should have...fuck I don’t know.

The kiss itself had been the most incredible thing I’d ever experienced. Ryker had been purring with a satisfaction so deep it shook my bones. I had felt it too. It was the aftermath, her reaction, that was tearing me apart.

I reached the top of the landing and walked down the hall to her room. I stopped just before her door, my hand raised to knock, but I hesitated. Behind it, she was hurt and scared, and I was the one who had put her there. What right did I have to disturb her sanctuary? Knocking on that door wasn’t for her benefit; it was for mine. It was to ease the sickening guilt that was eating me alive. It was a selfish impulse.

My hand dropped to my side. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t force her to face me when she had so clearly fled.

I started pacing in front of her door. My feet wore a path in the plush carpet,my mind running with different thoughts. I should have waited. I should have asked. I should have been content with the emotional intimacy she had offered me, a gift far more precious than any physical touch. But I had gotten greedy. I had let Ryker’s primal need for his mate and my own overwhelming desire take control.

After what felt like an eternity of silent, agonizing debate, I finally gave up. I couldn’t stand outside her door all night like some kind of stalker. With a final, pained look at the closed door, I turned and walked toward my own suite at the end of the hall.

My room, usually a place of comfort and command, felt strange. It was too big, too empty. The silence in here was heavier, more profound. I stripped off my shirt, throwing it onto a chair with more force than necessary. I needed a distraction, something to burn off the restless, frustrated energy coursing through me.

But my mind was a traitor. All it would supply was the memory of the kiss. The softness of her lips. The hesitant way her hands had rested on my chest. The tiny, breathless sound she’d made just before I deepened the kiss. My body reacted before my mind could protest, a familiar, aching heat pooling low in my belly.

I closed my eyes, and her face was there. Not the panicked look, but the one from moments before, her eyes soft, her lips parted. My imagination, fueled by months of pent-up longing, took over. I thought of that kiss leading to more, of my hands tracing the elegant curve of her waist, of her arching into my touch, her name a soft sigh on her lips. I imagined her meeting my passion with her own, free of fear, full of the desire I knew she was capable of.

The thought was so powerful and vivid. With a silent groan, I gave in. My hand moved, my thoughts filled with the taste of her, the scent of her, the fantasy of what could be. Even as my hands moved along my length, nothing happened. The release I sought didn’t come and at the end I have up.

I fell onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, the sheets feeling rough and cold against my bare skin. Sleep was an impossibility. My mind was a battlefield. A few hours ago, my biggest worry had been for Serena and Hunter. The fear for my sister and my friend was real and heavy, a stone in my gut. But now, it was overshadowed. The image of Astrid’s panicked eyes had eclipsed everything else.

The thought of her, alone in her room, feeling unsafe in my home...our home, was torture. I had promised her safety. I had promised her a new life. And in one selfish, impulsive moment, I had potentially shattered that trust.

How would she even look at me tomorrow? Would she avoid me? Would she be cold and distant? The thought of her pulling away, of losing the fragile connection we had built, was unbearable.

I rolled onto my side, punching my pillow in frustration. This wasn’t over. I wouldn’t let one stupid mistake ruin everything. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I would fix this. Not by pushing, not by demanding she talk to me. I would prove it with my actions. I would show her that she was safe with me, no matter what. I would earn back her trust, one patient, respectful day at a time.

Even if it killed me.