Chapter 8 Cade
EIGHT
CADE
The small dining room caught the morning sunlight perfectly, golden rays streaming through tall windows to warm the space in a way the formal dining hall never could.
Cade had specifically chosen this room for breakfast today—his father needed the sunlight now, desperately needed whatever warmth he could absorb into his increasingly frail frame.
Just as Cade was making sure his father was comfortable, the oak door swung open, and Lyra appeared with Mila at her side. Cade’s world instantly altered the moment Mila entered the room.
He shot to his feet so quickly his chair scraped against the stone floor, his wolf stirring immediately at the sight of her.
She wore one of the cashmere sweaters he’d selected—a deep blue that made her blue eyes luminous—paired with black leggings that hugged every perfect curve.
The outfit was simple but absolutely devastating on her.
Focus. Father is watching.
But focusing proved impossible when her scent hit him like a drug. Sweet lavender flooded his senses, making his head spin with want. His wolf clawed at him, demanding he claim what was his, audience be damned.
“Good morning,” he managed, his voice huskier than expected.
Mila’s cheeks flushed pink as their eyes met, and he caught the flicker of awareness in her expression before she quickly looked away.
She’s being deliberately distant.
He crossed to her with swift, sure steps, placing his hand on her lower back to guide her to the table. The innocent touch nearly undid him—even through the soft cashmere, he could feel her warmth and could sense the way her breath faltered at the contact.
“Please, sit here,” he said, pulling out the chair beside his father’s place at the head of the small table.
Their fingers brushed as she accepted his assistance, and her pupils dilated slightly, making his control fracture around the edges.
Not here.
He forced himself to step back and settle into his own chair across from his father while Lyra claimed the seat on King Drake’s other side. The arrangement put Mila directly in his line of sight, which proved both blessing and torture.
“Father,” Cade said, working to keep his voice steady, “I’d like you to meet Mila.”
King Drake nodded with obvious effort, but when his gaze met Mila’s, something remarkable happened. His weathered features softened into what could only be called a genuine smile—the first Cade had seen from him in months.
The unexpected display of warmth caught Cade off guard. His father had always been a master of emotional restraint, showing affection through action rather than expression. To see him offer such open welcome to a stranger—a human stranger—defied everything Cade thought he knew about the man.
“So you’re the one who’s captured my son’s attention,” Drake said, his voice carrying none of its usual commanding edge. “Welcome to our home.”
Mila’s posture straightened with obvious nerves. “Thank you, Your Majesty. Cade has been incredibly gracious.”
“Please, call me Drake. We don’t stand on ceremony at breakfast.”
Through their fragile mate bond, Cade felt the mixture of excitement and apprehension rolling off Mila in waves. She was trying so hard to make a good impression and to navigate the complex dynamics of royal protocol, that tension radiated from every line of her body.
She doesn’t need to try so hard. Father already likes her.
That realization should have been pure relief.
Instead, it only intensified the weight pressing down on him.
Every passing moment reminded him how little time remained—with his father, with the luxury of choice, with the illusion that he could somehow balance love and duty without sacrificing one for the other.
“Tell me about Earth,” Drake continued, leaning forward with genuine interest. “Cade mentioned you work in law. That must require considerable intelligence and skill.”
Mila’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “It’s... different from your world, certainly. Less exciting and dramatic. Though I suppose that depends on which lawyers you’re dealing with.”
A rusty chuckle escaped Drake’s throat—a sound Cade hadn’t heard in years. “Ah, so you have a sense of humor as well. Good. This family needs more laughter.”
As Mila began to open up, sharing carefully chosen details about her work and her world, Cade found himself studying every micro-expression that crossed her face.
The way her eyes lit up when she talked about something that truly interested her.
The small gesture she made with her hands when she grew animated.
The careful respect she showed his father even as her natural warmth began to shine through.
She’s perfect. How is she this perfect?
But beneath his admiration lurked a constant current of anxiety and doubt. Every word she spoke, every interaction with his family, was a test she didn’t know she was taking right now. But he knew.
Would she fit into their world? Could she handle the pressure of royal life? Would she want to stay once she understood what being his mate truly meant?
Yet he couldn’t shake the warm feeling that came with having everything he’d never dared hope for suddenly within reach. His wolf wanted to wrap around her protectively and ensure nothing could drive her away.
“What about your family?” Drake asked. “Are they supportive of your... adventure?”
Something flashed across Mila’s face—hurt, but it was quickly masked. “They’re practical people. They believe in safe choices and steady paychecks. This probably isn’t what they’d consider wise.”
“Wisdom often looks different in hindsight,” Drake said quietly. “Sometimes the greatest risks yield the greatest rewards.”
The weight of his father’s words settled heavily on Cade’s chest. Here was the man who’d taught him that control equaled strength, that emotion was weakness, and that duty came before all else—encouraging Mila to take the very leap Cade himself feared.
He’s changing. Dying has changed him.
The thought brought familiar resentment bubbling to the surface.
Where had this warmth been when Cade was young and desperate for his father’s approval? Why did it take impending death to unlock the man’s capacity for gentleness?
“Cade tells me you’ll be staying with us for a while,” Drake continued. “I hope you’ll find our ways interesting rather than overwhelming.”
“Everything here is already so fascinating,” Mila replied. “Though I’m still adjusting to the twin moons and twin suns. But the auroras last night were incredible.”
“Wait until you see them from the high tower,” Lyra interjected with enthusiasm. “The view is spectacular. I could show you later if you’d like.”
Mila’s face brightened. “I’d love that.”
“Actually,” Lyra continued, shooting a meaningful look at Cade, “I was thinking I could give you a full tour today. Show you the grounds, the library, maybe some of the pack lands if you’re feeling super adventurous.”
The suggestion hit Cade like a punch to the gut. He wanted to be the one to show Mila his world, and to watch her discover each wonder through fresh eyes. But duty called with its relentless demands—council business, pack concerns, and most importantly, the precious remaining time with his father.
She needs to see everything. Even if I can’t be the one to show her right now.
“That’s a wonderful idea,” he said, though the words tasted bitter. “I have some matters to attend to with Father today, but Lyra knows every inch of this place.”
He caught the flash of disappointment in Mila’s eyes before she quickly hid it, and his chest tightened. She clearly wanted him to be the one to show her around. The knowledge was both thrilling and frustrating.
Tonight. I’ll make time for her tonight.
As breakfast continued, Cade was caught between two powerful currents. The joy of watching Mila slowly relax and begin to shine in his family’s presence, and the constant awareness of his father’s fragility.
How long do we really have? Weeks?
The uncertainty was torture. Every moment felt simultaneously precious and slipping away too quickly. He wanted to freeze time, to hold onto this perfect morning where his dying father smiled and his mate sat at their family table like she belonged there.
But time was the one thing even a future king couldn’t command.
Cade’s throat tightened as his father coughed—a shallow, stifled sound King Drake tried to mask behind a smile. The man who once commanded the entire council now seemed made of paper and willpower. And Cade, for all his strength, could do nothing but watch the inevitable undo him.
When his father pushed back from the table with obvious fatigue, Cade immediately stood. “Let me help you back to your chambers.”
“I can manage,” his father said, but his voice lacked conviction.
“I know you can. But humor me.”
As he helped his father, Cade caught Mila watching them with soft eyes full of compassion. The expression on her face—understanding, empathy, no judgment—made something in his chest loosen slightly.
She sees the burden I carry. And she doesn’t run from it.
“Thank you for breakfast,” Mila said to Drake. “I hope we can do this again soon.”
“I would like that,” Drake replied, squeezing her hand gently. “Welcome to the family, dear.”
The casual declaration sent shock through Cade’s system. Welcome to the family. Not the pack, not the royal household—the family. His father had just given his blessing without reservation.
As Lyra linked arms with Mila and began chattering about their upcoming tour, Cade helped his father from the room. The bittersweet nature of the morning clung to him—hope and grief intertwined so tightly he couldn’t separate them.
She has to stay.
Because the alternative—losing both his father and his mate—was simply unbearable.