Ss’s POV
66
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When Freya returned from the military sector, her scent carried something different–lighter, edged with hope. I noticed it the instant she crossed the threshold of the ce we now shared. My wolf twitched inside me, restless<b>, </b>sensing the shift before her lips even parted.
She had gone to report to Aldred, the oldmander, about her assignment protecting me as Irond Alpha. But the moment I looked at her, I knew that wasn’t all she had gained.
“What is it?” I asked, unable to ignore the flicker in her eyes. “Your mood feels… brighter than usual. Something good happened?”
Her lips curved, and for a heartbeat, she looked almost like the Freya I’d imagined in my loneliest nights–unguarded, alight.
“Yes. It’s good news.” Her voice trembled with joy. “There’s a new lead about my brother, Eric.”
The name hit me like a de to the gut. My grip on the teacup faltered. Scalding liquid sloshed over my fingers before I could steady it. The burn barely registered, but she gasped softly, rushing toward me as if the world had narrowed to my hand alone.
“Ss!” Her small hands caught mine, pulling me with surprising strength to the washbasin. The water roared as she turned the tap, forcing my hand under the icy stream. The heat of the burn dulled, reced by the cool shock.
Her touch–firm yet trembling–held me there. Her wolf was worried for me. For me.
I should have focused on the pain, but all I could think about was her words.
“Your brother,” I managed, my voice low, rough. “You said there’s a lead?”
“Yes, from the military.” Her eyes darted up to mine, fierce with emotion. “They found a drone. The serial matches one Eric operated before he disappeared. The Iron Fang Recon Unit confirmed it. They’re sending people to recover it, and if it still holds data…” Her voice cracked with hope. “Then maybe I’ll find him soon.”
The water sshed over my hand, but the only burn I felt was in my chest. My wolf twisted inside me, snarling in warning. If Eric returned, what would that mean for me? For her?
I clenched my jaw, but the tremor in my fingers betrayed me.
“Does it hurt?” she asked softly, tilting her head up at me.
<b>10:14 </b><b>Tue</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>16 </b>
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(66<b>) </b>
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I swallowed, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “If I told you it hurt–would you care?<b>” </b>
Her answer came without hesitation, cutting through the armor I’d built over years.
“Of course I would. You’re my mate–my partner. If you’re in pain, I’ll always care. But that doesn’t mean you can ignore your body. I want you to take care of yourself, Ss<b>. </b>I want you to live. To be well.”
Her words hit deeper than any de ever had. No one had spoken to me like that before. Not my parents, who only measured me by my strength. Not my grandfather, who drilled me into a weapon and demanded I grow sharp enough to lead the Whitmors. Not even my most loyal warriors, who followed me out of duty, not love.
In the past, wounds meant nothing. I’d bled in silence. I’d told myself if I died, so be it- perhaps it would even be a release. But now? With her watching me like this, urging me to care for my own flesh… the thought of dying suddenly felt like betrayal.
I let her hold my hand under the cold water until the sting faded to a dull throb. She dabbed it dry with tissues, her movements careful, reverent almost. Then she asked, “Where’s your medicine box<b>?</b><b>” </b>
I almostughed. “I don’t keep one.”
Her brows furrowed. “You don’t?”
“I don’t live here often,” I admitted. “This ce is just somewhere I use when I can’t stand the Whitmor estate.”
Her gaze swept the sparse apartment, the barren shelves and unadorned walls. I could tell she understood then why itcked warmth.
Without another word, she pulled out her WolfComm, ordering burn ointment from a delivery runner. Then she looked up at me again, as though nothing could shake her determination.
“What do you want to eat tonight?” she asked.
My wolf stirred, unsettled by the domestic question. “Anything. What about you?”
She tilted her head thoughtfully. “If you don’t mind, I’ll make noodles. Simple, but filling. We can <b>eat </b>them together.”
I blinked. “You’ll cook?”
Her grin was quick, mischievous. “Don’t look so surprised. I can cook. Back at the Recon Unit, I
<b>10:14 </b><b>Tue</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b>16
:..
made noodles for the squad more than once. They said it was good.”
A sharp edge rose in my chest before I could stop it. The words left me harsher than I intended. “Did Kade eat them too?”
Her surprise gave way toughter. “You’re jealous of Kade?”
66
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I clenched my jaw. “He’s been through things you and I haven’t. He knows sides of you I don’t.”
She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over mine, and the storm inside me calmed. “He’s myrade. My brother–in–arms. That’s all. You are my mate, Ss. You’re the one <b>I’ll </b>share my days and nights with from now on.”
Something inside me cracked, dangerously fragile. I wanted to believe her. Needed to.
By the time the delivery arrived, she was already bustling in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, hair brushing against her cheeks as she washed vegetables and sliced meat. I followed her, unable to stay seated.
“You should rest,” she chided, noticing me hovering. “You’re hurt.”
“I’ll stay quiet,” I said, leaning against the wall where I could watch her. “I just… want to be near you.”
She hesitated, then gave a small smile. “Fine. But don’t get in
my way.”
So I stood there, arms folded, my wolf strangely content just to watch her move. The sound of chopping, the steam rising from boiling water–it was ordinary, human. Yet in her presence, it felt sacred.
The apartment had always been cold, empty, just another ce to escape duty. But with her in the kitchen, her wolf scentcing the air, it was transformed. Warm. Alive.
For the first time in years, I let myself imagine a future: marriage, a shared home, herughter echoing against these walls. I imagined cooking for her every day, learning what vors she loved, setting bowls before her with pride.
And my wolf, usually restless, snarling for blood and dominance, went quiet–lulled by the simplest of visions: a life, not just survival.
Because of Freya.