KAIDEN'S POV
The palace still smells of smoke. Even after the fires are out and the wounded have been taken away, every hallway was still hot.
Everything in the palace was destroyed. I walked the halls to inspect everything.
Even while I was bothered about what happened, something hot twists behind my ribs. I can't get the thought of Lucian and Layla out of my mind.
I watched Lucian lift her from the rubble. I saw him hold her like she might break at any moment. He studied her face with rough, careful hands. That picture sits in my chest and won't move. It makes me see red.
I force myself to breathe.
A guard rushes past "My lord, there are reports from the northern wall, sir. They've found a breach near the stables. We've set up a secondary barricade—"
He stumbles over his words. I cut him off with one command. "Tell Captain Hargreaves to fortify the eastern gate. Two extra men on each tower. And check the patrol rotations. There must be no gaps." \
The guard blinks and runs. He flinches at my tone. I hadn't planned to snap, but I need someone to pour out my anger on.
What I feel is worse than jealousy. It's a messy knot of possessiveness and hatred for that fucking bastard. I told her to find safety. I ordered her to the corner of the library and to stay put while we handled the attack. She disobeyed. She ran toward the smoke. She crossed the courtyard and pulled people out of the flames with hands that shouldn't have been able to move men twice her size. She saved children. She saved warriors as well.
And I, Kaiden of Silverfang, watched from too far away while she risked everything.
That idea of failing to keep her safe eats at me. I replay the scene until my jaw hurts: Lucian barging through debris, lifting her like nothing else mattered. Lucian's face close to hers. Lucian's hands on her. I taste bile. I imagine worse things when I can't sleep and feel sick with helplessness.
So I bury it beneath work. I check barricades until my shoulders burn. I reroute patrols and argue about men's placements until I have to grit my teeth to stop thinking. I interrogate prisoners, those we caught at the gate, until some lie breaks and I get names. Even with all that, Lucian's hands are still in my head.
While I walk, I hear the whispers from nobles and servants. It seems like everyone is talking about her.
"She's fearless."
"He carried her. Lord Lucian did.".
"It's forbidden love, isn't it?"
The whispers make me even more annoyed.
By evening the pressure inside me has built until I can't stand it. I can't help myself. I go to Layla's room. I rehearse what I'll say. I'll say words to make her listen.
Every rehearsed line disappears the second when I open the door.
As soon as I step inside, her scent hits me. right now, she smells like earth after rain. She's binding a wound when she looks up and her face is all stubborn lines. She doesn't flinch at my entrance.
"You don't get to throw yourself into death," I say.
She snaps back "What do you care?"
That question cuts deeper than any insult. It challenges my right to worry for her, to claim that worry.
I close the space between us faster than I should. Maybe the wolf pushes me; maybe it's panic. My hand finds her wrist and I grip too hard because the world feels like it might fall apart and I need something solid. Her fingers flinch. Pain flashes across her face and the look she gives me nearly breaks me.
"You don't get to die," I say "Not when you belong to me."
The words hit us both. They are possessive, raw, honest. I hate that they come out like that, but they're the truth.
She breathes out a scoff. "Belong to you?" she repeats "Is that what you think I am? A thing to be owned?"
"No. Not a thing. Not -" I reach for the words to say but right now, I'm blank. Layla has that effect on me. I can command a thousand warriors, even Alphas but when it comes to Layla, I'm speechless.
"Then let me choose," she says "Let me choose how I live. Your orders don't become my life."
I hate her for saying it and love her for it in the same heartbeat. She refuses to fold. She refuses to go by my authority alone, and that refusal won't let me be simple either.
"You were told to stay," I say, hard. "We told you for a reason."
Orders don't make people safe. They make people follow the safest path for you. Not for them."
Heat rises in my neck. I want something small to be angry about, to hold on to so I don't have to feel the rest. But under the anger is pure panic. If I'd known every little detail, the numbers, the breach, I might have stopped it. Maybe I could have kept her in that corner, kept the stone from hitting her. Instead, a noble carried her away. A stranger lifted her. I was too slow.
"You can't keep throwing yourself at danger," I say. "Not if you want me to have a chance of keeping you."
She leans close; I can see ash on her lashes. "And what if I don't want you to keep me? What if I want you to see me standing?"
That cuts me clean. She wants to be seen on her terms, not as an object of protection. The fact of that, her desire to be seen as her own – it does something to me
"I didn't ask for this," I breathe. "I didn't ask to feel so helpless. I didn't ask to be afraid of losing you."
"You sure don't act like it"
"You think I don't know what this does to me?" I shout. "it hurts to see you fall"
"I don't care. You can't control me and you have no right to act like you care because you sure as hell don't treat me like I'm special to you"
I see the way her fingers are trembling, the soot in her hair, the mark on her palm. I see bravery that has nothing to do with my orders.
Then something snaps. We crash together.
This is not a gentle kiss. The kiss is raw and demanding. It's like an argument and an apology wrapped together. I don't think either of us wanted gentleness. I kiss like I've been punishing myself with the memory of another man's hands on her.
When our mouths meet, the world fades away. Right now, it's just her and me
Her fingers twist in my hair, hard enough to make me groan. When she pushes at my shoulders, I don't pull back; I press closer, trying to show with touch what words can't.
For a second, I forget everything except that she's here.