Chapter 48 #2
“We were cowards,” I snapped, the anger flaring up before I could stop it.
The irrational rage surged through me like wildfire.
“We ran instead of standing our ground, and people died because of it.” My hands clenched into fists, trembling with frustration.
The guilt I had been trying to bury finally broke free.
“They died because we chose not to fight.”
Sean cleared his throat. “Emma, nothing that happened on that battlefield was your fault. Our missions were different. You and Caden had to retrieve the Amplifier. I was in charge of extraction. It was my faulty strategy that led to their deaths, no one else’s.”
I should’ve reached out to him, should’ve comforted my friend who was clearly weighed down by his own self-reproach. But my emotions were a tangled mess, spinning out of control.
I was grieving, but more than that, I was dreading what was coming next—returning to Cyclos and leaving this place behind. Leaving the people I loved, the ones who had become my family. The thought hurt more than I could handle, and instead of dealing with it, I lashed out.
“Then we were all at fault,” I snapped, my voice biting and cold. I kept my gaze locked on the water ahead, refusing to look at either of them, succumbing to a fury that had nothing to do with Sean. But I couldn’t stop it from spilling out.
“Sean.” Caden’s deep, authoritative tone had an unmistakable edge. “Leave us.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Sean nod stiffly before turning to leave.
His retreating figure only made the shame stab harder at my heart.
I was being cruel, and I knew it. But I couldn’t stop myself.
I felt sore, exposed, and my mind was spiraling.
Everything hurt, and Sean had been an easy target for the chaos churning inside me.
As soon as Sean was out of sight, Caden jumped up, closed the distance between us with a few determined strides, grabbed my arm, and hauled me to my feet.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he growled, his face a mask of controlled ire, “Sean’s been going through hell about this, and you just confirmed his worst fears. Are you that selfish in your grief?”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I yanked myself free from his grasp, stumbling back as tears stung my eyes, blurring my vision. The anger that had been simmering inside me boiled over, spilling out in a reckless, desperate shout.
“I hate you!” The words tore from me, ragged and bitter, echoing across the clearing. It felt like poison on my tongue, but I had to say it, I had to push him away, to make sure I wouldn’t regret leaving him.
But before I could even begin to process what I’d said, Caden was on me, crossing the distance between us again, in one swift, determined stride. His eyes blazed with a mixture of agony and ire, but beneath that, there was something else—something that terrified me as much as it pulled me in.
He pushed me back against the rough bark of the oak tree, his hand braced against the trunk beside my head, his body pinning me in place. The bark dug into my back, the edges biting into my skin, but the pain barely registered.
“Say that again,” he growled. His breath was ragged, his body so close I could feel the warmth radiating off him. The air between us crackled, charged with something undeniable.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
My throat tightened as I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping to the ground, unable to face him.
My heart pounded in my chest, and I could feel the heat of his breath lingering on my skin, the closeness between us overwhelming.
The rage I’d clung to—my shield—was crumbling, revealing nothing but the rawness of my emotions beneath it.
He was too close, his presence too intense, and I couldn’t hold onto my protections any longer. Finally, he let me go, stepping back just enough for the cool night air to rush in between us, the sudden space both a relief and a loss.
"That's what I thought," Caden muttered, his voice softer now, the sharpness replaced by something more resigned, almost gentle. “You want to be angry, Emma? Be angry. Scream, cry, do what you gotta do. But don’t pretend to hate the people you care about, because it’s easier to feel the pain of death.”
He wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t angry at him, or even at Sean. I was angry at myself—furious for surviving when others hadn’t, for abandoning people I’d loved without a proper goodbye. It gnawed at me, eating away at the edges of my grief.
“I never said goodbye,” I whispered, trembling under the guilt that had been festering inside me. When I finally lifted my gaze, Caden’s eyes were on me again, and I could see it—the compassion.
He sighed deeply; the sound full of understanding.
“We so rarely get to say goodbye to those who die. It’s never fair, and it never feels right.
But the hurt you’re feeling—it’s a testament to how much she meant to you.
To your friendship. The pain won’t ever fully go away, but I promise you, the burden will get lighter.
One day, you’ll carry it without breaking. ”
Tears welled up in my eyes again, but this time they weren’t fueled by anger. They were the release I needed, the rough emotion I’d tried so hard to keep buried. “I’m sorry,” I sniffled, the apology both inadequate and necessary.
Caden’s lips curved into a small smile, one that radiated warmth. There was no need for him to forgive me—he had already understood. I hesitated for a moment, then stretched my arms out toward him, silently demanding for what I needed but didn’t know how to ask for—comfort.
He cocked a brow, teasing lightly, “What, like I’m your personal snugglebum now?”
“Caaadeeen,” I whined, but a small laugh bubbled up, breaking the tension.
Caden snickered, his smile growing wider.
With a dramatic sigh, he pulled me into his arms, lifted me like I weighed nothing and held me against his chest with a force that was both protective and possessive.
I wrapped my legs around his broad frame, clinging to him like a fucking koala—desperate, and unrelenting—as if I could somehow fuse our bodies together and make the moment last. His scent—familiar, intoxicating—flooded my senses, making my head spin as I breathed him in, like I was trying to etch him into every corner of my soul.
His heart thundered against my core, a wild, erratic beat that mirrored my own. “You’re leaving tonight?” he whispered, his voice raw, filled with a longing that sent a shiver down my spine.
I nodded, my face pressed into the crook of his neck, my breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. The idea of parting ways, of not feeling his warmth, his strength, suddenly terrified me.
His grip tightened, his arms like iron bands around me, as if he could hold me here by sheer force of will. He didn’t want to let go, and neither did I.
“I’ll go talk to Sean before I leave,” I murmured in a solemn promise.
I could feel him nod, but neither of us moved to break the embrace. Slowly, reluctantly, I began to untangle myself from his hold, but I kept my hands around his neck, refusing to sever the connection completely.
His gaze locked on mine and didn’t move, looking at me as if I were the most precious thing in the world, something he couldn’t afford to lose. There was nothing soft about it though—only carnal intensity, sharp and consuming.
And then it happened.
Something twisted low in my stomach—tight, hot, and immediate. It wasn’t gentle. It hit hard, like a match striking in the dark, a jolt that sank into my skin and spread fast, heat coiling through my body in a slow, relentless wave.
Every breath felt heavier. Every cell in my body was aware of him.
It was primal, and it was fierce in its awakening.
Noticing the shift in me, his pupils blew wide, and locked on me like a loaded weapon, dark and razor-focused. The air between us turned molten. Nothing existed outside of that look—possessive, ravenous, unflinching. It wasn’t a question. It was a promise. And it was going to wreck me.
My heartbeat went wild, pounding so hard I felt it everywhere: in my throat, in my fingertips, between my legs.
My eyes dipped to his mouth and lingered there, shameless and wanting.
His hand came up, slow and certain, and slid along my jaw before wrapping around the side of my neck, thumb brushing just beneath my chin.
His palm was hot, grounding, but the tension behind it was anything but gentle.
He wasn’t asking for permission. He was claiming space he already believed was his.
My lips parted, aching for contact.. He leaned close enough that his breath scraped against my mouth, hot and uneven, his lips barely hovering over mine. His thumb pressed lightly against my pulse, feeling the frantic rhythm there, and I could swear it almost broke his restraint.
I tilted my head, instinctive, chasing him even though he hadn’t pulled away. His other hand slid around my waist and yanked me flush against him—no slow buildup, no hesitation. Just heat, body to body, every curve of me pressed to solid muscle and simmering intent.
I gasped, and he let out a low growl. Like a fucking predator, about to devour its prey.
I couldn’t think. Could barely breathe. His mouth still hadn’t touched me, and somehow that was worse. He was toying with the tension, letting it stretch, letting me feel the want in every part of him, without giving me the release.
The heat between us was unbearable—dragging every breath deeper into my lungs like I was starving for him. Every little bit of my skin felt hypersensitive, aching to be touched, claimed, stripped bare.
I was burning. Burning for this man, holding me like I was his to hold.
His fingers tightened in my hair, and his mouth brushed over mine—not a kiss, not even real contact, only the threat of one. His lips hovered there, teasing, ghosting over the skin he knew I wanted him to claim.
And when I exhaled, shaky and wrecked, he smiled—just slightly, just enough to show he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
“Caden,” I whispered, barely a sound, his name breaking over my tongue like a plea and a dare.
The world around us faded, all of it narrowing down to this one moment, this one inch separating us from changing our lives forever.
Just one more inch, and his mouth would crash into my own.
One more inch, and the world would tilt on its axis, everything we knew burning away in the heat of our kiss. My plans to leave, the reunion I thought I needed—it would dissolve into nothingness, consumed by the gravity of him—dark, magnetic, and wrong in all the right ways.
One more inch, and he’d ruin me.
One more inch, and there’d be no going back.
Just. One. More. Inch.
But then, like a cruel twist of fate, both our Nexuses flared to life, overflooding us with such sudden, overwhelming urgency, it shattered the moment, dragging us back to reality.
Messages flooded in from every direction, an onslaught of anxiety and panic, coming from so many people at once, it was impossible to know who was contacting us first.
“What the fuck,” Caden hissed, dropping me gently to my feet. My mind was still spinning, reeling from the electric charge that had nearly consumed us, but the intensity of that moment quickly receded as reality crashed in.
James’s face suddenly filled Caden’s Nexus, the familiar features jolting me like a shock to the system. Seeing James like that, after months of quiet, was a punch to the gut, knocking the breath right out of me, and I gasped, audibly.
“Colt,” James’s voice boomed through the clearing, deep and commanding as ever, yet edged with something darker—urgency, fear.
His focus shifted, landing on me, his eyes widening, then scanning my face, and trailing down to where my hands still clung to Caden. The silent understanding of what had nearly transpired between us a moment ago flickered in his expression, and a world of pain and hurt flashed across his face.
“Walker,” Caden growled, his voice low and dangerous. “What is it?”
James hesitated for the briefest of moments. Then, as if steeling himself against whatever emotions threatened to surface, he turned his head back to Caden.
“The Resistance failed. Word got out the Radicals lost their Amplifier. The United Chiefs have pronounced the Great Exposure a go. Kanata C merged with Canada an hour ago. The other Collectives are following.”
He paused for a beat, then said, “It’s happening. The Great Exposure is happening.”