Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
MILA
The afterglow of their explosive encounter still hummed through Mila’s body as she smoothed down her t-shirt.
The broken workout bench lay in pieces around them—evidence of just how completely they’d lost themselves in each other.
Her cheeks burned with the memory of his mouth between her thighs, and the way he’d claimed her with such primal intensity that she’d forgotten her own name briefly.
Best sex of my life. The thought flickered through her mind as she watched Cade pull on his shirt, his movements fluid and predatory even in something as mundane as getting dressed. Every muscle rippled beneath the fabric, and she had to bite her lip to keep from reaching for him again.
But beneath the exhilaration, uncertainty gnawed at her chest.
What did this mean for them now? For the impossible situation she’d walked into just days ago?
Cade was about to become king, his father was dying, and she was expected to transform from ordinary paralegal to future queen. The weight of it all pressed against her ribs like a vise.
Yet she couldn’t deny what had just happened between them.
The connection that went soul-deep, and the way he’d made her feel not just desired but cherished.
She felt truly seen—no longer the invisible woman keeping everyone else’s lives running smoothly, but someone worth claiming and worth protecting.
This is exactly what I’ve been wanting, she realized.
Not just the mind-blowing sex—though that had been a revelation—but the feeling of being with a man who was wholly, completely present with her. Who looked at her as if she was the most important thing in his world.
The gym doors burst open with a crash that made them both freeze.
Martin stood in the doorway, his face pale as winter moonlight and his chest heaving like he’d run the entire length of the castle.
His normally composed demeanor had cracked, revealing something that made Mila’s stomach drop to her feet.
“Your Highness,” Martin gasped, his brown eyes finding Cade immediately. “You need to come now.”
Cade’s entire body went rigid, his alpha authority snapping into place like armor. “It’s my father, isn’t it?”
The Beta’s grim nod confirmed what Mila had already read in his expression. “It’s not good.”
The transformation in Cade was instantaneous.
Gone was the passionate lover who’d worshipped her body with such reverence.
In his place stood the Crown Prince, duty settling over his shoulders like a heavy cloak.
His green eyes had already shifted away from her, his mind racing toward whatever crisis awaited in his father’s chambers.
“I’ll come with you,” Mila said, stepping forward instinctively. The words tumbled out, driven by an overwhelming need to be at his side during whatever was coming.
“No.” The single word cut through the air with finality. Cade’s gaze flickered to her briefly, but his expression remained shuttered. “You should wait in your guest suite.”
The dismissal hit her like a slap in the face. After everything they’d just shared—the trust, the intimacy, the earth-shattering connection—he was cutting her out. Relegating her to the sidelines like she was still just a visitor testing out life on an alien planet.
“Cade—“
“Please, Mila.” His voice gentled slightly, but the emotional distance remained. “This is family business. There are royal protocols.”
She wanted to argue, to point out that he’d just claimed her in the most primal way possible, and that she thought that meant something. But the look in his eyes stopped her cold. The prince had reasserted dominance over the man, and she was on the outside looking in again.
“Of course,” she managed, forcing her voice to remain calm. “I understand.”
But she didn’t. Not really. Yes, she’d only been here two days.
Yes, she knew nothing about royal protocols or family emergencies.
But somewhere in her heart, she’d started to believe she was becoming part of this—part of them.
The way King Drake had smiled at her over breakfast yesterday, the warmth in Lyra’s eyes today, and the earth-moving connection she just shared with Cade.
Apparently, she’d been wrong.
Martin cleared his throat awkwardly. “Your Highness, we really should—“
“I’m coming.” Cade moved toward the door, his stride purposeful and commanding. He paused at the threshold, glancing back at her one final time. “I’ll find you later.”
Then he was gone, leaving her standing in the wreckage of the gym with the scent of their lovemaking still hanging in the air and confusion clawing at her chest.
The walk back to her guest suite felt endless. Servants scurried through the corridors with worried expressions, their hushed conversations creating an atmosphere of barely contained panic. Whatever was happening with King Drake, it was serious enough to have the entire castle on edge.
By the time she reached her suite, lunch had been laid out on the coffee table in her sitting area—delicate sandwiches, fresh fruit, and steaming tea that she had no appetite for.
The thoughtful gesture only emphasized how alone she was in this moment.
Lyra and Cade were dealing with their family crisis while she sat in isolation.
Hours crawled by. She tried reading one of the books she had packed, attempted to write a short story about her adventure so far, even considered taking a nap.
Nothing worked. Every sound in the corridor made her heart race, hoping it was Cade coming to find her, to include her in whatever was happening.
But he never came.
When Lyra finally appeared in her doorway four hours later, Mila knew immediately. The princess’s eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, her normally vibrant energy drained away. Her dark hair hung in tangles around her face, and her clothes were wrinkled like she’d been gripping them in her fists.
“Lyra.” Mila rose from the couch, her heart breaking at the devastation written across the younger woman’s features.
She’d seen that exact expression before—in the mirror twenty-two years ago when her own mother had finally lost her battle with cancer. The hollow shock and the disbelief that someone so vital could simply cease to exist.
“He’s gone.” Lyra’s voice came out as barely a whisper. “Father died an hour ago.”
The words hit Mila so intensely that she almost threw up.
“Oh, Lyra.” Mila crossed the room in three quick strides, pulling the princess into her arms without thinking. “I’m so sorry.”
Lyra collapsed against her, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. For long minutes, they stood there in the fading afternoon light, grief creating a bubble of shared understanding around them.
“We thought we had more time,” Lyra finally managed, her voice muffled against Mila’s shoulder.
“The healers said months if he responded well to treatment. But this afternoon...” She pulled back, wiping her eyes with shaking hands.
“It was like he was just waiting. Waiting until Cade had found you, that the succession was secure.”
The implication settled over Mila. King Drake had held on just long enough to see his son claim his mate, and to ensure his lineage would continue. Then he’d let go.
“Where is Cade?” Mila asked gently, though part of her already knew the answer.
“Locked in Father’s office, refusing to see anyone. Martin’s been trying to get him to eat something, and to at least acknowledge that the council needs to be notified.” Lyra’s green eyes filled with fresh tears. “He’s not handling this well.”
Every instinct Mila possessed urged her to go to him. To force him to let her comfort him. But Lyra’s next words stopped her cold.
“I think it’s better to let him be alone right now. You know how he gets—all closed off and stubborn when he’s upset. He’ll come find you when he’s ready.”
When he’s ready. As if grief operated on a convenient timeline. As if love could be scheduled around royal duty.
But Mila nodded anyway, respecting boundaries she didn’t understand in a world where she was still learning the rules. “Of course. Whatever he needs.”
After Lyra left—promising to send word if anything changed—Mila found herself alone again. But this time, the silence felt different. Charged with the heaviness of everything that had altered in the span of a single afternoon.
The hours stretched endlessly before Mila like an arctic wasteland.
She’d moved from the couch to the window seat, then to the armchair, and finally to pacing the length of her guest suite like a caged animal.
Each time footsteps echoed in the corridor outside, her heart leaped with desperate hope that Cade had finally come to find her.
But servants hurried past her door carrying linens and flowers—preparations for the funeral, she realized with a fresh stab of pain.
He’s not coming tonight.
The truth settled over her like a heavy blanket.
She understood, logically, that he was drowning in responsibilities she couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
King Cade—the title felt foreign and intimidating even in her thoughts.
He was no longer just the wolf prince who’d claimed her body with such desperate passion mere hours ago.
He was the ruler of the Ice Moon pack, High Sovereign of the council, and probably buried under a mountain of decisions that couldn’t wait for grief to run its course.
But her heart ached anyway. Not just for herself, but for him—alone in his father’s office, shutting out everyone who might offer comfort. She knew that kind of isolation intimately, the way grief could make you feel like accepting help was somehow a betrayal.
I want to be there for him, she thought, pressing her forehead against the glass of her window.
The twin moons hung low in the purple sky, their silver light casting ethereal shadows across the snow-covered mountains.
I want to hold him while he falls apart and then help him put the pieces back together.
Instead, she was locked away like a delicate flower that might wilt under the harsh realities of royal duty.
The worst part was knowing her training would probably be postponed indefinitely.
Lyra was grieving too, and rightfully so.
Which meant Mila would have to navigate these treacherous waters alone, armed with only the handful of books she’d read and her stubborn determination to prove she belonged here.
Do I even belong here anymore?
The doubt crept in like poison, seeping through the cracks of her newfound confidence.
Yes, they’d discovered her ancestral connection to wolves this morning.
Yes, the mate bond between her and Cade was undeniable.
But connections and bonds meant nothing if she was going to be shut out every time real life intruded on their fairy tale romance.
She wanted to be his partner, not his pretty distraction. She wanted to stand beside him as he faced the impossible weight of kingship, to offer her strength and intelligence and unwavering support. But how could she do any of that from the confines of a guest suite?
As midnight approached, Mila finally admitted defeat and changed into the silk nightgown Cade had chosen for her.
The fabric whispered against her skin like a caress, reminding her of his hands and mouth and the broken workout bench that bore witness to their explosive passion.
Her body still hummed with the memory of his touch, and the way he’d made her feel beautiful and desired and utterly cherished.
God, I’m falling for him so hard.
The terrifying realization hit her as she slipped between the Egyptian cotton sheets, her chest tightening with the weight of it. Somewhere between his gentlemanly courtship and his primal claiming, she’d tumbled headfirst into love with a man who might not have room for her in his new reality.
The tears came without warning, hot and relentless against her cheeks.
She cried for King Drake, whose warmth and acceptance had made her feel like family during their breakfast together.
She cried for Lyra, who’d lost her father and anchor.
She cried for Cade, drowning in duty and grief with no one to pull him to the surface.
But mostly, she cried for herself. For the little girl who’d lost her mother and learned to be invisible.
For the woman who’d spent years making everyone else’s life easier while her own dreams withered.
For the part of her that wondered if she was strong enough to love a king, or if she’d crumble under the pressure like everyone seemed to expect.
Through the storm of tears, something strange began to pulse in her chest. A warmth that had nothing to do with the fire crackling in her hearth, and everything to do with the connection she’d felt with Cade since the moment they met.
It was like a golden thread stretched between them, vibrating with emotions that weren’t entirely her own.
Grief. Raw, devastating, and all-consuming.
But underneath it, something else. A fierce protectiveness and desperate longing that made her breath catch. He was thinking of her—she was sure of it. Missing her even as duty held him captive in his father’s office.
The mate bond. It had to be. Somehow, across the vast corridors of the castle, she could feel echoes of his heart calling to hers.
I’m not going anywhere, she whispered into the darkness, hoping somehow the mate bond would carry her words to him.