Chapter 13 #2
The debate continues around me, voices rising and falling in waves that wash over me without fully registering.
My focus narrows to Aaiden’s controlled breathing, the subtle shift in his stance when Damien suggests a more aggressive approach, and the way his fingers tap the table when he emphasizes a point.
When the meeting breaks into smaller discussions, with Alphas grouping around various displays to analyze specific aspects of the threat, I don’t wait for a cleaner transition. I move toward Aaiden with purpose, intercepting him before he can engage with Sebastian’s financial assessment.
“We need to talk,” I say, positioning myself so only he can hear.
His expression doesn’t change, but I catch the subtle flare of his nostrils as he takes in my pheromones from this closer distance. “This isn’t the time.”
“But—”
“This isn’t the time,” he repeats, firm but not harsh. “We’re in the middle of a compromised operation. The family comes first. The rest gets handled later.”
I understand that. I do. Family first has been the Rockford motto since before I was born. But understanding doesn’t make the distance between us any less painful.
“When?” I demand, rougher than intended.
“Soon.” His focus drops to my lips for a fraction of a second before lifting again. “But not here. Not now.”
The logical part of me knows he’s right. This conversation can’t happen in the middle of the war room with the entire family working to contain a threat aimed at me.
But the part of me that’s been waiting for years, the part that’s been denied and rejected and held at arm’s length, that part aches with frustration.
“Fine,” I relent, taking a deliberate step back. “Later.”
Aaiden inclines his head, the gesture somehow both acknowledgment and promise. “Later.”
I return to my position, focusing on the tactical discussion with renewed effort. But the heat under my skin doesn’t fade as the meeting drags on.
It deepens, spreading through my limbs, sinking deep with a persistence that refuses to be ignored.
I brush my fingers across my forehead, wiping away sweat in a climate-controlled war room.
My shirt collar chafes my neck, and the lights overhead seem brighter than before, sounds sharper, scents more potent.
Especially his.
Aaiden moves to consult with Sebastian at the far end of the table, and I ache at the distance. Without thinking, I drift that way, closing the space until I’m within arm’s reach as he reviews security protocols on Sebastian’s tablet.
I don’t interrupt. Don’t speak as I position myself where his scent wraps around me, steadying the growing tremor in my hands.
The straightening of Aaiden’s back gives away his awareness of my proximity. He doesn’t turn or acknowledge me, but his tone becomes lower, richer, his Alpha timbre settling into my bones.
“Double the night patrols,” he tells Sebastian. “Full perimeter sweeps every thirty minutes.”
I drift closer, drawn by his voice as much as his scent now. My shoulder comes within inches of brushing his, heat radiating between us without contact.
Aaiden adjusts his stance, not pulling away but managing the space between us with careful awareness.
“The eastern wall has three blind spots,” Sebastian points out. “We need to address those.”
“Put Damien’s team on it when he returns,” Aaiden responds, his focus split between the security concern and my obvious hovering.
My fingers flex at my sides, fighting the need to reach out and touch him as the strange, floating sensation takes over. My tongue sticks in my mouth, my throat dry despite the water I gulped down earlier.
“Jade.”
The sound of Aaiden saying my name snaps my attention back to the present. He’s looking at me now, green eyes assessing.
“Are you with us?”
As I nod, the room tilts, and I brace my hand on the table edge to steady myself.
Concern flickers across Aaiden’s face, there and gone in an instant, but his pheromones shift, protective notes rising above the others, and the change strokes me from head to toe in an invisible caress.
“We’ll conclude here,” he announces to the room at large, though his focus remains on me. “Sebastian, implement the new protocols immediately. Caleb, I want hourly updates on Gallo’s interrogation. Everyone else has their assignments.”
My mentor looks at me and arches a brow. “Are you sure you want to be interrupted?”
Aaiden’s growl in answer earns him a shrug from his cousin.
As the meeting breaks, and Alphas disperse to their tasks, I remain rooted in place, unwilling to move away from Aaiden’s steadying presence.
The room empties until only we remain.
“You need to eat,” he says. “And shower. There’s food waiting in my suite.”
The mention of his personal space sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through me, and my feet refuse to move toward the door. Away from him.
“I can eat later,” I manage, the words scraping past my dry throat.
Aaiden’s jaw tightens. “You need to go now, Jade.”
“I’ll wait for you,” I counter.
His eyes darken. “I have to finish securing the manor. I’ll join you in a bit.”
“No.” The word comes out sharper than intended, almost desperate. “I need—”
I stop, unsure how to articulate the growing urgency inside me. I need him close. Need his scent. Need the calm that only comes when he’s within reach.
Aaiden steps closer. “Do I need to Command you?”
The question comes without judgment or anger. If it’s what I need, Aaiden will do it, but either way, I will obey. We both know how this ends.
My chest tightens with want and frustration. “Yes.”
He leans closer, not touching me with anything but his pheromones, which wrap around me.
“You will go to my suite,” he says, dropping into Alpha Command. “You will eat what’s been prepared for you. You will shower. And you will wait for me there. You will not leave for any reason until I return.”
The Command slides over my skin, sinks into muscle and bone, wrapping around my core with unbreakable certainty.
Stripped of the burden of choice, of the battle to fight my own instincts, tension melts from my body, and the relief is immediate.
All that remains is clarity. Purpose. Direction.
“Yes,” I breathe, the word carrying gratitude.
Aaiden softens for a fraction of a second before his mask of control returns. “Go now.”
And floating in a cloud of contentment, I turn and walk toward the door.