Chapter 50
FIFTY
EMMA
A week after our first real theory about Gordon came to life, Caden and I decided to inform Rachel of our findings.
Making my way to Rachel’s study, I tried to rehearse how the hell I was supposed to bring up the subject of Gordon. I’d told Caden I could handle this on my own—insisted on it—but every step down the hallway made that decision look increasingly stupid.
Telling a world-class First Offensive I’d been mind-raped into this life was already an impossible, nausea-inducing task.
Telling her the person responsible for it had probably bubbled in the nation directly next to hers?
Yeah. That made my stomach twist into knots I didn’t have names for.
I stopped in front of her door, inhaling deeply, trying to summon whatever courage people seemed to think I naturally possessed. My knuckles lifted to knock, but before I touched the wood, raised voices spilled through the crack.
“Are you kidding me, Rachel? You’ve gone off the fucking rails.”
I froze.
That was Hillary’s voice… Right?
My Healer, usually calm, dry, unflappable Hillary, yelling?
At Rachel?
I really shouldn’t have eavesdropped.
But then somehow… I absolutely did.
“It’s only dinner. And I haven’t even asked him yet.”
Rachel was going to ask someone out?
As soon as the thought formed, every organ in my body froze solid.
Caden.
She was going to ask out Caden.
“Why? Because he’s a First Offensive?” Hillary snapped.
Rachel muttered something I couldn’t make out.
Which only made it worse.
Oh gods. It was Caden, wasn’t it?
My heart did a violent, undignified nosedive.
I pressed my ear harder against the door, shameless and fully committed to this catastrophic life choice.
“Don’t worry about it, okay? He’ll leave back for Crown soon enough, and we all know Colt doesn’t do attachments.”
Godsfuckingdamn.
I jerked back like the door had burned me.
Rachel. Was going to ask out Caden.
My jaw clenched so hard it clicked, my hands curling into fists before my brain even bothered to keep up.
I spun away from the door and started pacing up and down the hallway like a feral animal with too many emotions and nowhere to put them.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I wanted to barge in and make it legally, emotionally and universally clear he was mine.
I wanted to strangle her for even thinking about it.
I wanted to drag Caden out by the collar and staple a sign to his shirt that said TAKEN in giant red letters.
Fuck!
No. No, absolutely not.
Caden going on a date with another woman?
Over my dead fucking body.
I stormed into his room without knocking. “Rachel is going to ask you out!”
Caden looked up from the floor, mid–push-up, arms locked, sweat glistening all over his gorgeous half-naked body. He held the position for a beat, then finished the rep with infuriating control before pushing back onto his heels.
Annoyingly calm.
“Okay…”
“Well, you can’t tell her we’re together!”
He nodded once, still unfazed. “I know.”
“But…you’re going to…” The words jammed together in my throat like they were fighting for the exit.
Caden raised an eyebrow, waiting.
“You’re going to accept her invitation?” I blurted, arms flailing in a gesture I absolutely did not authorize.
His head snapped back. “What the hell?”
“Yeah, okay, no, you’re gonna refuse her, right?” I demanded, pacing in a tight little circle because my body apparently couldn’t stay still while my brain was combusting.
He dragged a hand down his face with a groan. “Jesus fuck, Emma. What do you think? I’m committed to you. Why the hell would you even doubt me?”
“I’m not doubting you!” The words shot out too fast. “I’m just…” I exhaled hard and dropped onto his bed, the mattress dipping beneath me. “Fuck! I hate this!”
My shoulders sagged.
Caden jumped to his feet, then came to sit beside me, his hand sliding in mine. “You want to yell from the rooftops I’m yours.”
Not a question. Only truth, spoken out loud.
I nodded, throat tight. “I hate hiding us.”
“You think I don’t?” His jaw ticked, a pulse of anger flickering there. “You don’t think I want to tell every fucker who looks at you like you’re their next fucking snack to back off, or I’ll drag their testicles out through their mouth?”
I snorted, despite myself. “That’s very specific.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “That’s very restrained.”
A laugh almost escaped me, caught in my throat, then died as reality crashed back down.
I squeezed his hand, latching onto him like he was the only thing keeping my pulse from spiraling out of control.
“I feel the need to mark you,” I grumbled, honesty popping loose like a cork I hadn’t meant to pull.
Caden’s smile warmed. “Pretty sure those teeth marks of yours are still all over my chest.”
“I don’t want another woman looking at you,” I admitted. “I swear, any time anyone even mentions your name, I want to carve out their eyeballs and light them on fire.”
His brow lifted, dry amusement etched across his face. “And you comment on my allegedly unrestrained desires?”
I shrugged, utterly unrepentant. “Pot, meet kettle.”
Caden huffed a quiet laugh, then turned his hand in mine, threading our fingers together again. His thumb swept once across my knuckles, like he was committing the shape of them to memory.
“Nightcrawler,” he said quietly, the humor thinning into something steadier, warmer. “You don’t compete with anyone.”
His gaze locked onto mine. “You never did. And you never will. From the moment you chose to follow me from Switzerland to Crown, I never even touched another woman again.”
I jerked back. “What?”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Maybe I should’ve led with that.”
“Caden,” I said incredulously, “we weren’t even friendly back then. Why the hell would you do that?”
He shrugged, like the answer was almost embarrassingly simple. “Because you trusted me when you had no reason to. You followed me when you could’ve walked away. You chose me then, and in that moment, I decided I’d always choose you too.”
He leaned in, his forehead brushing mine, voice dropping to a whisper meant only for me.
“And if you let me, I will do so for the rest of our fucking lives.”
Then, softer—less declaration, more confession—he added, “So if you want to tell people I’m yours… I’m more than fine with that.”
I closed my lids, the comfort of those words warring with the terror sitting under my ribs. “If the United Chiefs sniff out what’s going on between us…” I shook my head. “We can’t risk it. Not yet.”
Caden didn’t reply, simply grabbed my arm gently but decisively and tugged me backward toward the headboard in one smooth motion, then wrapped me in his arms.
My head found his chest automatically, his warmth seeping into me until the tension in my body finally began to uncoil.
I looked up at him, sounding smaller than I meant it to be. “Do you think the Chiefs were being truthful when they said you are going to die?”
He snorted, but the sound was bitter. “No. I think they’d say anything if it meant pushing you toward breeding James’s child.”
“But why? Why are they so adamant he’s the father?”
Caden stilled. “I don’t know, baby.”
I reached for him, made him look at me. “They’re dead wrong.”
His mouth curved, a dangerous spark flickering alive again. “I know.”
The words should’ve comforted me, but they didn’t entirely.
I drew in a tired breath. “Between figuring out who’s behind the bubble, who ordered the hit on my parents, and—” My voice cracked only slightly but he heard. “And finding a way out of the worst deal I’ve ever made… I sometimes feel like I’m about to snap.”
Caden’s hand caught my chin, angling my face up to his again.
“Emma,” he ground out, “you are not alone in this. I don’t give a fuck about the Chiefs or their threats, and I sure as hell don’t give a fuck about your deal. You’ve got me. Do you hear me? You’ve got me.”
My man’s fierceness gutted me, tore straight through every defense, until the only thing I could feel was him. Something inside me buckled under it, a dam bursting I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.
I smashed my lips to his, desperate and unrestrained, my fingers tangling in his shirt like he was the only thing keeping me from shattering completely.
He growled into the kiss, the sound vibrating against my lips, raw and possessive in a way that made my entire body tremble.
His breath was harsh against my mouth, “Stay with me tonight.”
“It’s Thursday,” I whispered, even as my lips brushed his.
He kissed me again, deeper, rougher, stealing the protest from me before it could take shape. “Stay with me anyway.”
My answer came out as little more than a breath. “Okay.”
He moved so fast it startled me, the mattress dipping under his weight as he shifted me beneath him.
A startled chuckle burst out of me at his urgency.
His eyes darkened with intent before he murmured against my lips, “That sound is the most wonderful sound in the world.”
Heat rushed through me, fiercer than any protest, and I kissed him harder.
Then his hands were on me, sliding under the hem of my shirt, tracing fire up my sides until every nerve lit up.
My breath hitched, a moan slipping free before I could bite it back.
He stilled for half a heartbeat, then gave a low, rough laugh against my mouth. “I was wrong,” he whispered, the words all ragged. “That is the fucking most wonderful sound in the world.”
The way he said it—like he’d devour the noise straight from my throat if I let him—made me shiver all over again.
And then I let him.
The next day, I woke up with a knot of restlessness curled under my ribs.
Even with Caden reassuring me last night, the urge to talk to Rachel hadn’t gone anywhere. I needed to set things straight. To make it clear there would be no her and him in any universe, parallel, magical, or otherwise.
And weirdly, it wasn’t even about Caden. It was about Rachel. About something I needed to clear before we could become friends in any meaningful way. And I wanted that, more than I’d expected.