Chapter 14 - Mara
I feel almost at home here now, even though I know I have no right.
This isn’t my home, not my life, and definitely not my people, whatever the blood test said.
But that hasn’t stopped my body from relaxing into this environment.
After my heat and what happened between Cade and me, my fear of him being a shifter has lessened.
Not left, but lessened.
If anything, knowing how much pleasure he gave me makes it harder to be afraid of the potential pain.
I know that’s stupid, because I’ve seen enough men turn on the women they’re supposed to be with; it was a regular occurrence in the hunters' bars and compounds. So, I should know better than to relax, but for some reason, my body isn’t listening.
I wrap my fingers around the hot mug of coffee and bring it to my lips; sitting on the high stool at the kitchen island with the sun pouring through the window, it almost feels spring-like today. Perhaps the season really is turning in the mountains now.
I concentrate on the files in front of me, thumbing through the printouts Willow sent, cross-referencing names of haulage companies with Cade’s handwritten notes.
There’s a spreadsheet open on the kitchen laptop, and I’m trying to make sense of it, but half the company names sound fake.
TB Logistics. TB North by North-West Haulage.
There are so many that start with the same three letters; I’m convinced it can’t be a coincidence.
Cade says it might just be lazy business registration, but I’m not so sure.
I’m deep down the logistics rabbit hole, clicking through the spreadsheets and manifests that Rowan and Willow dumped in my inbox, when the sound of tires crunching on the gravel drive draws my eyes to the window.
Two figures emerge, the man’s broad silhouette unmistakable as Cade’s beta, Grey.
He’s got the easy carriage of someone who’s always known exactly where he belongs.
I usually run when the betas come to the house, but I glance at the table and realize I don’t have time to gather all the papers.
I also spot a woman getting out of the truck and know I probably shouldn’t run this time.
I watch the woman walk toward the house and realize it must be Grey’s mate, Sara.
She’s beautiful, with soft brown hair in a loose braid, high cheekbones, and luminous green eyes; the color is so vivid they look unreal at this distance.
She’s wearing a dress even though it’s barely above freezing outside; it’s blue, with tiny flowers scattered across it, and she’s wearing a soft cardigan that looks like it’s the kind that only gets hand-knitted by someone with love.
She’s laughing at something Grey says, her face open, unguarded, and I feel my heart give a weird little jolt watching them walk toward the house holding hands.
My eyes dart around the room as Cade walks through holding his phone. He glances at me and indicates the door. “Grey and Sara are stopping by,” he says, eyeing me carefully, probably wondering if I’m going to run.
If only he knew I already ran that math and know I’m out of time.
I nod, but glance down at myself, noting that I’m wearing the jeans and soft pullover she sent over in the care package, and I can’t decide if that makes me look grateful or desperate.
Either way, it feels a bit cringe. I smooth my hair and stay put, forcing myself to look casual as they come in through the mudroom.
The kitchen fills with noise and warmth as soon as the door opens.
Cade walks over and slaps Grey on the back before pausing to hug Sara.
It’s such a warm scene that I feel even more awkward sitting at the island.
I’m deeply regretting not making myself scarce as Sara spots me, her face breaking into a bright, genuine smile.
“You must be Mara,” she says, making a beeline for me. Her voice is open and friendly, and she’s even prettier up close. There’s nothing predatory about her, and I try to force myself to smile back. “I’m so glad to meet you finally. You look perfect in that color.”
My cheeks flush. “Thanks. I, um, really loved everything you sent over.” I sound like a dork, but she just beams.
Grey gives a chin nod and a “hey,” but he’s already busy making coffee with Cade, the two of them moving through the kitchen in a practiced, synchronized way that speaks of years spent together. Sara perches on the stool next to mine, seemingly unbothered by the awkwardness.
Cade and Grey take their coffee and disappear into the office, the sound of their low voices blending with the clatter of mugs. For a minute, we sit in companionable silence, sipping coffee and watching the mountains wake up through the big picture window. Sara breaks the quiet first.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but you look much more relaxed than I expected.
Cade said you were still…adjusting.” She laughs softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“He’s a terrible liar, by the way. He’s been worried about you; it’s not like he has people to stay very often, and I know he can be a bit off-putting… if you don’t know him.”
I can’t help smiling at that. “I’m not sure worried is the right word, but he’s not too off-putting…not exactly,” I say, and we both laugh.
Sara spots the pile of laundry I was going to do later and launches into a story about Grey trying to fix their washing machine last week and flooding their laundry room, and I find myself snorting coffee out my nose.
There’s no edge to her; no competition, no sideways glances, just pure, unfiltered delight in talking about pack life.
I want to ask how she met Grey, but before I can, she volunteers it.
“He used to be even grumpier than Cade,” she says, glancing toward the office and dropping her voice.
“Everyone knows everyone here, but I was a few years younger, and we started talking when he’d come into the hardware store where I worked.
He tried to help me carry a fifty-pound box of grout, but I told him I could manage.
I dropped it on his foot. Broke his toe.
” Her eyes shine as I double over in laughter.
For a moment, I’m just a girl having coffee with another girl. Not a weapon, not a liability, not even an omega. Just a normal person. Whatever ‘normal’ means anymore.
We chit-chat about everything and nothing, refilling our coffees, and I feel the layers of who I’m supposed to be—the spy, traitor, or experiment—peel away, and what’s left is something lighter.
Like I could almost, maybe, see myself in a life like this, where mornings are about coffee and friends, not plotting escape routes.
The men walk back through, their laughter echoing as Grey tells Cade a story I can’t hear.
Sara stands and, without hesitation, wraps her arms around me in a hug that is warm and surprisingly fierce.
I freeze at first, but then something in me uncoils, and I hug her back, awkward and out of practice.
Women like Trish don’t hug, so it’s been a while.
The women I’ve met here, like Willow, Kit, and now Sara, seem different, and it’s taking some getting used to.
Sare pulls away as Grey comes over to collect her, and there’s a brief, silent communication between him and Cade.
It’s the kind of wordless understanding that comes from years of shared history.
Cade’s hand lands on my shoulder, heavy and grounding, and I realize I’m standing too stiffly, so I try to relax, to pretend that I belong here.
Sara grins at me again as she and Grey head for the door. “Maybe coffee next week?” she says, and I find myself promising yes, even as my voice cracks on the word. She beams and disappears, trailing Grey through the mudroom and out into the sunlight.
The house is suddenly quiet again, but it’s not the old, razor-edged silence. I catch Cade watching me, and for once, I don’t try to hide how unsettled I feel.
He pours two mugs of coffee and sets one in front of me, then leans back against the counter, arms folded. “You don’t want to get coffee with Sara?”
I blink at him, taken aback. “No, I…” I start to protest, but the words catch in my throat. I don’t know how to explain it. “I didn’t think I was allowed,” I say finally, and I mean it. “I figured I was still...a prisoner of sorts, not exactly free anyway.”
He stares at me for a minute, then laughs, the sound low and a little sad. “You’re not a prisoner, Mara.” He says it like it should be obvious, but it’s not. Not to me.
“So, I can just walk outta here? Leave? And you won’t stop me?” I say, feeling the challenge building in my words.
I catch something flash in his eyes, and it makes me shiver. He pauses, seeming to think about my words before answering, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Do you know what I think?” he says, stepping closer. “I think you’d run just so I could chase you. I think you’d want my wolf to catch you.”
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. “Is that what you want?” I ask. I try to keep the question light, but my voice betrays me.
Cade’s eyes never leave mine. “I think,” he says, slow and deliberate, “that you’d like getting caught.
” He pushes off the counter and crosses the distance between us in two strides.
My first instinct is to shrink back, but my body doesn’t get the message; I stay rooted, my heart pounding, as he crowds me.
He’s so close that I have to tilt my head back to look at him.
The air shifts, thickens, and for a second, I can’t think at all, let alone move.
His hands come up, gentle and massive, one braced on the counter behind me, the other hovering at my hip as if I might spook.
I expect him to grab me, but instead, he just looks down at me, waiting.