Chapter 14 #2
I don’t deserve her, the thought whispered through his mind like a prayer and a condemnation. She came here for excitement, for something beyond her ordinary life, and instead she’s comforting my grieving sister while I hide behind the crown like a coward.
But even as the self-recrimination threatened to consume him, something else filtered through their bond—something that sounded suspiciously like her voice, warm and fierce and absolutely certain: I’m not going anywhere.
The words knocked the breath from his lungs, whether imagined or somehow transmitted through their mate connection. His wolf whined, desperate to cross the room and bury his face in her neck, to breathe in her scent and let her strength anchor him to something real and solid.
But I can’t, he reminded himself, forcing his attention back to the steady stream of dignitaries offering their respects. Not here. Not in front of everyone. If I let myself lean on her now, if I show them how much I need her, they’ll see it as weakness. Zarik will see it as weakness.
An elderly council member approached—Elder Whitefang from the Blue Moon pack—his weathered face creased with genuine sympathy. “Your Majesty, your father was a great king. The Blue Moon pack stands ready to support your reign in any way necessary.”
“Thank you, Elder Whitefang. Your loyalty means everything during this time.”
The words came automatically again. But his gaze kept drifting back to Mila, drawn like a moth to a flame despite his best efforts to maintain royal composure.
She looked up at that moment, their eyes meeting across the crowded hall, and the jolt of connection that passed between them nearly made him stumble.
Her blue eyes held no pity and no disappointment at his distance—only understanding and a fierce determination that caused his wolf to howl with recognition.
She knows, he realized. She understands why I can’t go to her right now, and she’s not angry about it. She’s just... there. Waiting. Being exactly what I need her to be.
Another hour crawled by in a blur of condolences and political maneuvering disguised as grief. His feet ached from standing in formal shoes, his jaw hurt from maintaining a stoic expression, and his wolf clawed at him with increasing desperation.
Just a little longer, he promised both himself and the beast within. Once everyone leaves, once the viewing is over, then I can...
“The viewing has concluded,” Martin announced from the front of the hall, his voice carrying the authority of a Beta speaking for his king. “Thank you all for honoring King Drake’s memory. The funeral procession will begin tomorrow at dawn.”
The hall began to empty slowly, conversations continuing in hushed tones as the various pack representatives filed toward the exit.
Cade remained frozen beside his father’s casket, unable to move, unable to look down at the still form that had once commanded an entire army with nothing more than a lifted eyebrow.
One by one, the mourners departed. Lyra kissed his cheek and whispered something about seeing him in the morning before following the crowd toward the doors. Martin lingered for a moment, his expression questioning, but Cade shook his head slightly and his Beta retreated with understanding.
Soon, the vast hall held only two people: a newly crowned king drowning in responsibility and grief, and the human woman who had somehow become his lifeline in the span of three impossible days.
He expected her to leave with the others. Expected her to give him the space that protocol demanded, and the distance that would allow him to maintain the illusion of strength and control.
Instead, she walked toward him.
Her heels clicked against the marble floor with quiet determination, each step echoing in the emptiness like a challenge to every rule of royal behavior he’d ever learned.
She stopped directly in front of him, close enough that he could smell her sweet scent beneath the funeral flowers, and close enough to see the fierce resolve burning in her blue eyes.
“I’m not going to be ignored anymore,” she said, her voice steady despite the magnitude of what she was doing—confronting a grieving king in the sacred space where his father lay in state.
“I didn’t want to force you to let me comfort you, but apparently I need to, because you’re not going to admit you need help. ”
The words hit him like ice water, stripping away every carefully constructed barrier he’d built around his heart.
Here was this incredible woman—this human who had no obligation to him beyond a mate bond she’d never asked for—standing up to him with the kind of courage that most of his pack members couldn’t muster.
She’s fighting for us, he realized with stunning clarity. She’s fighting for our mate bond, for what we could have together, even when I’m too much of a coward to reach for it myself.
“Mila, I—“
“No.” She stepped closer, eliminating the last few inches between them, and reached up to cup his face in her hands. The touch was gentle but unyielding, demanding his complete attention. “You don’t get to shut me out. Not anymore. Not when you’re hurting like this.”
Something inside him cracked at her words—some fundamental wall he’d built to protect himself from the very thing standing before him.
The grief he’d been holding at bay, the fear of failure, the desperate need for connection that his wolf had been howling for since the moment his father died—all of it came rushing to the surface like a dam bursting.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest with desperate hunger. She felt perfect in his embrace—warm and solid and utterly real in a world that had become a nightmare.
“I can’t do this,” he whispered against her hair, the admission torn from somewhere deep in him. “I can’t be what he was. I can’t fill his shoes, and everyone’s watching, waiting for me to fail, and I—“
His legs gave out.
The strong King Cade Dravik, High Sovereign of the Ice Mountains, collapsed to his knees on the cold marble floor of the ceremonial hall with his mate’s arms around him and tears streaming down his face for the first time since his mother died.
“Cade, I’m here for you. And I’m not going anywhere,” Mila whispered, her arms tightening around him as his body shook with the force of grief finally unleashed.