Chapter 16 Cade
SIXTEEN
CADE
Dawn crept through the windows of Cade’s chambers like an unwelcome intruder, casting pale silver light across the rumpled sheets where he lay with Mila curled against his chest. Her golden hair spilled across his shoulder, and the mate mark on her neck gleamed faintly in the morning light—a permanent reminder that she was his now, completely and irrevocably.
I don’t want this moment to end, he thought, tightening his arms around her sleeping form.
The warmth of her body pressed against his, the steady rhythm of her breathing, and the way their heartbeats had synchronized through the completed mate bond—it was perfect peace in a world about to be consumed by grief and ceremony again.
But reality crashed back as thoughts of the day ahead flooded his mind.
His father’s funeral procession. The burial in the ancient ceremonial grounds.
Hundreds of pack members and dignitaries watching him say goodbye to the only parent he had left, expecting him to be the stoic king they needed while his heart shattered into a million pieces.
Mila stirred as he shifted, her blue eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. “Good morning,” she whispered, her voice husky from sleep.
“Not really good, I’m afraid.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Today is—“
“The funeral.” She pressed her palm against his chest. “I know. I can feel your anxiety through our bond.”
The mate bond pulsed strongly between them, carrying his turbulent emotions directly to her. There was no hiding from her now, and no pretending he wasn’t terrified of breaking down in front of his entire pack.
He reluctantly extracted himself from her embrace and began pulling on his clothes—black dress pants and a white shirt that would soon be covered by his formal ceremonial jacket. “You need to go get dressed in your funeral attire. I’ll be at your suite in fifteen minutes.”
Mila sat up, the sheet pooling around her waist as she watched him with concerned eyes. “Cade—“
“I’m having you by my side every step of the way today.” His voice came out shakier than planned, edged with sadness he couldn’t quite hide. “I don’t think I can handle it any other way.”
She rose gracefully from the bed, completely comfortable in her nakedness now as she moved to gather her scattered clothes from the night before. The sight of her—marked and all his—sent a possessive growl rumbling through him despite the circumstances.
“I’ll be there for you today in whatever way you need me to be,” she said, stepping into her dress and pulling it up over her curves. “And Cade? You shouldn’t be afraid to show your emotions. It’s perfectly natural at a time like this.”
Show emotions. The concept felt foreign after a lifetime of maintaining perfect control.
But as he watched her smooth down her hair and straighten her shoulders with quiet determination, he realized something had changed for the better.
With her by his side, the idea of tears didn’t feel like weakness—it felt like humanity.
“I just might,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “With you there to catch me if I fall.”
She crossed to him and rose on her toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I want people to see me do that for you. I want them to know I’m your anchor in this storm.”
My anchor. Her words settled something restless in him. She deserved to be there, especially now that they’d completed the mate bond. She was officially his mate, his future queen, and the thought of facing this day without her warm presence felt impossible.
She left his chambers, and Cade finished dressing with mechanical precision. His father’s—now his—ceremonial jacket felt heavy as he shrugged it on, its gold embroidery and insignia a royal burden that pressed down on him.
Exactly fifteen minutes later, he knocked on her guest suite door.
When she opened it, his breath caught a little.
She wore an elegant black dress that hugged her figure perfectly, and her hair was pulled back in a sophisticated bun that highlighted her mate mark.
She looked every inch the queen she was destined to become.
“Ready?” he asked, offering his arm.
“Ready,” she confirmed, sliding her hand into the crook of his elbow with natural grace.
They met Martin and Lyra in the grand foyer, both dressed in formal black attire that somehow made the reality of the day feel heavier. Lyra’s eyes were already red-rimmed from crying, and she clung to Martin’s arm like he was the only thing keeping her upright.
“The car is ready, Your Majesty,” Martin said, his formal address a stark reminder that everything was different. Cade was king, whether he felt ready or not.
The ride to the ceremonial grounds passed in oppressive silence, broken only by Lyra’s quiet sniffles.
Cade kept Mila’s hand clasped firmly in his, drawing strength from the warm pulse of their bond.
Through the car’s back window, he watched the landscape of his territory roll by—snow-capped yellow peaks and purple forests that had belonged to his family for generations.
Father walked this same territory, he thought, his throat tightening. He’s never going to see it again.
When they arrived at the ancient ceremonial grounds, the sight that greeted them nearly brought Cade to his knees.
Hundreds of pack members had gathered, their faces somber as they paid their respects to their fallen king.
The burial site was carved into the mountainside itself, overlooking the vast territory King Drake had protected for over three decades.
The funeral procession began with the haunting howl of wolves echoing across the peaks—a sound that spoke to something primal in Cade’s soul.
As they walked toward the burial site, Mila’s steady presence beside him became his lifeline.
Her hand in his, her scent surrounding him, and the quiet strength she radiated—it all combined to keep him grounded when grief threatened to overwhelm him completely.
The funeral passed in a haze of grief and forced composure. Cade watched his father’s casket disappear into the ancient burial grounds, the finality of it hitting him like a knockout punch.
This is it. He’s really gone.
But Mila’s presence beside him had been his refuge throughout the ceremony.
Her hand never left his arm, her warmth radiating outward like a ray of sunshine on this cold day.
When the final blessing was spoken and the last shovel of earth covered his father’s grave, Cade felt the overwhelming urge to collapse.
“We need to leave,” he murmured to Mila, his voice heavy with barely contained emotion. “Before I—“
“Of course,” she whispered back, understanding immediately.
The ride back to the castle was a silent procession of grief.
Martin drove while Lyra sobbed in the front passenger seat, her usual vibrant spirit crushed under the weight of loss.
In the back seat, Cade finally allowed his tears to fall, no longer caring about appearances.
Mila held his hand tightly, her own tears streaming down her face as the mate bond carried his pain directly to her heart.
Even she’s crying for him, Cade thought, watching Mila grieve for a man she’d barely known. Father would have loved that about her.
Back at the castle, Mila guided him toward his chambers with gentle insistence. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s get away from everything for a while.”
He nodded gratefully, following her through the corridors that suddenly felt too grand and too empty without his father’s commanding presence filling them.
In his private chambers, Mila helped him out of his formal funeral attire—the heavy ceremonial jacket, the restricting collar, and the crown that felt like a burden rather than an honor.
“Just let it out,” she whispered as they settled onto his bed, her arms wrapping around him protectively. “You don’t have to be strong right now.”
For hours, Cade did exactly that. He cried until his chest ached, mourning not just his father’s death but the loss of the guidance he’d never receive, the conversations they’d never have, and the approval he’d always craved but rarely earned.
Mila held him through it all, her fingers running soothingly through his hair while she murmured words of comfort.
This is what love feels like, he realized as exhaustion finally began to claim him. Someone who stays when you’re broken.
The twin moons had risen high outside his windows when his communicator buzzed insistently on the nightstand. Cade groaned, wanting to ignore it, but Martin’s voice crackled through with urgent authority.
“Your Majesty, I’m sorry to interrupt your mourning, but we have a situation.”
Cade sat up reluctantly, Mila’s concerned gaze meeting his as he activated the device. “What is it, Martin?”
“King Zarik has issued a formal challenge to your High Sovereign position. The duel is set for tomorrow afternoon.”
His words hit Cade like a bullet to the heart. His wolf stirred angrily beneath his skin, recognizing the threat for what it was—a direct assault on everything his father had built.
Today of all days. The bastard couldn’t even wait until Father was cold in the ground.
“There’s more,” Martin continued, his voice tight with anger. “In his formal challenge, Zarik made some... pointed comments about your choice of mate. He questioned whether the Ice Mountains needed ‘a strong wolf shifter queen, not a human who doesn’t understand our ways.’”
Mila stiffened beside him, hurt flashing across her face before being replaced by fierce determination. “He thinks I’m weak because I’m human?”
Cade’s protective instincts roared to life, his wolf snarling at the insult to his mate. He pulled Mila closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “Zarik can question my leadership all he wants, but he has no right to speak about you that way.”
“I’m not weak,” Mila said, her blue eyes blazing with newfound fire. “And I won’t let him use me as ammunition against you.”
The mate mark on her delicate neck seemed to pulse with silver light, responding to her surge of protective anger. Cade traced it with his thumb, marveling at how perfectly she fit against him even in moments of crisis.
“I know you’re not weak,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against hers. “You’re the strongest person I know. You held me together today when I was falling apart.”
She’s everything Zarik could never understand—strength wrapped in compassion, power tempered by love.
“What do we do about the challenge?” Mila asked, her practical mind already moving beyond hurt feelings to strategic thinking.
Cade’s jaw tightened as he considered their options. Traditional law was clear—when a king’s authority was formally challenged, the dispute could only be settled through combat. Refusing would mean forfeiting his crown and his father’s legacy.
“I accept the duel,” he said firmly. “Zarik wants to test my strength? Fine. But he’s about to learn that having you by my side doesn’t make me weaker—it makes me unstoppable.”
His wolf pushed closer to the surface, eager for the fight, hungry to prove their completed mate bond only strengthened his power. Tomorrow, he would show Zarik and everyone watching that a king who fought for love was infinitely more dangerous than one who fought for dominance alone.