Kingsley pushed open the doors.
He stormed through the vast halls of his estate. Every step echoed with fury. The servants flattened themselves against the walls as he passed, their eyes cast down, terrified to draw his wrath. His shoulders were tense, his aura radiating raw dominance that made even the air feel heavy.
His right-hand man, Chandler, had to almost jog to keep up. "Boss—"
"Not now, Chandler," Kingsley snapped.
At the end of the hall, he stopped in front of a door — the very one he had ordered locked to keep May contained. His heart hammered in his chest out of the possessive rage boiling in his blood. Without hesitation, he shoved it open.
The room was empty.
He spun on his heel instantly, his eyes blazing. "Where is she?"
Chandler stopped a few feet away, visibly nervous. "That's what I was trying to tell you, Boss. She isn't here."
Kingsley's nostrils flared. "What the hell does that mean?!" he thundered.
Chandler swallowed, choosing his words carefully. "We… we have a problem, sir."
Kingsley's growl was low and feral. "A problem that means May isn't here?"
"Yes, Boss." Chandler's throat bobbed as he forced the words out. "I'm afraid she's under the protection of the Silver Pack."
"You're kidding me."
Chandler shifted uneasily but held his ground. "She was here with Beta Kade of the Silver Pack."
Kingsley's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Recognition flared. "The Silver Pack… Alpha Lucas Raventhorn's pack. The same man who took down the Alpha King of the North."
"Same one," Chandler confirmed softly.
For a moment, Kingsley was silent. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
Chandler took a cautious step closer, his tone gentler. "Boss… I think it's time to let her go."
Kingsley's head snapped toward him, his eyes flashing with pure, raw fury. "Let her go?! She belongs here. To me."
Chandler hesitated, then ventured, "With respect, sir… she is never going to see it that way."
"No, Chandler," he said darkly. "This isn't over. She belongs to me. She is my wife. I paid a lot of money for her—" His eyes gleamed, dangerous and wild. "—no one cheats me out of what is mine. How exactly did May get involved with werewolves?"
Chandler shrugged.
"Do you think she knows about werewolves now?" Kingsley asked.
"Boss," Chandler replied carefully, choosing each word like it was glass under his boots, "I do not have any answers. Beta Kade came here with May, broke Tom's arm clean like a twig, told me he was staying at the inn at the edge of town and then just… drove away with her."
Kingsley nodded once but there was nothing calm about him. It was the nod of a predator reining in the urge to shred something to pieces. Chandler didn't miss it.
*****
May finished her dinner. Across from her, Kade ate in his usual unbothered way, every move efficient. He didn't look up, didn't prod her to talk, and somehow that infuriated her more. His indifference stung worse than any harsh word could.
Afterward, she stood, collected her things, and disappeared into the bathroom without sparing him a glance. She showered, let the steam fog the mirror, scrubbed herself until her skin was pink, and slipped into her nightdress. Every movement was clipped as though she were punishing him with her quiet.
"I'm going to take a look around the perimeter," Kade said flatly when she emerged.
May didn't respond. She didn't trust her voice not to shake with anger. Instead, she turned her back, pulled the covers over herself, and climbed into bed. She cocooned herself tightly, ignoring him as though he were nothing more than a shadow. He left with the same calm steps he always had, shutting the door softly behind him.
But sleep refused to claim her.
Her thoughts tangled. She tossed and turned, sheets twisting around her legs, the sound of her breath loud in the small room. She hated how much space Kade took up in her mind, even when he wasn't there.
When she heard his footsteps returning. Instinctively, she stilled her body and closed her eyes, feigning sleep. Her breathing slowed though her pulse thudded like a drum against her ribs.
The door creaked open. Kade stepped inside. She kept her lashes lowered.
He shrugged off his shirt, the sound of fabric whispering against his skin as he dropped it carelessly onto the small sofa in the corner.
He peeled off his trousers and tossed them aside, leaving him in only his shorts. Her throat tightened, her body heating under the covers despite her best efforts.
He flexed, cracking the stress out of his bones, a low groan rumbling from his chest. The sound was intimate, and it rippled through her body in ways she wished it didn't. She told herself to keep still, to not react—but her fingers curled tightly into the sheets.
From under her lashes, May risked a peek. Just a small one. He was standing there, muscles carved. She bit her lip.
Unconsciously, May's tongue darted out to wet her lips, the simple, instinctive motion betraying her body even as her pride screamed at her to stay furious. It was humiliating how easily Kade's presence could undo her—how one glance at the sculpted strength of his body could stir heat low in her belly despite every rational reason to keep her distance.
Kade, sharp-eyed and never missing a thing, caught it. The faintest curve touched his lips. He turned his head toward her deliberately.
"You can look if you want," he said, amusement glinting in his eyes. "You just can't touch."
May's eyes snapped open, indignation overriding the flush of desire crawling across her skin. "Can't touch? Since when?"
He stretched out his long frame, letting the mattress dip beneath his weight. "Since Nelly nearly ripped off my head this morning," Kade replied evenly.
May pushed herself onto one elbow, glaring at him. "If I ask why she behaved that way, will you actually answer me, or will you just brood in silence and pretend it's none of my business?"
Kade shifted his gaze to the ceiling. Finally, he said, "I'm guessing it had something to do with you being engaged to Mike."
"Mark," she corrected automatically, though her voice lacked conviction. Her eyes narrowed. "And no—I'm guessing it's more than that."
"You'll have to ask her," Kade muttered, his shoulders rising in a shrug as if the matter meant nothing, though the stiffness of his body betrayed otherwise.
May huffed, throwing her hands up. "She says you have to tell me something."
"Not going to happen," he said, and the flat finality in his tone made her grind her teeth.
She flopped back onto the mattress, rolling to her side and presenting him with her back, the universal sign for I give up on you. "I don't know why I bother. Talking to you is like trying to have a conversation with a stone wall."
For a moment, the silence stretched, thick with everything neither of them dared say out loud. Kade's eyes lingered on the curve of her back, the soft rise and fall of her shoulders as her breathing slowed. His hand itched to reach for her, to trace the line of her arm, but he held himself still.
He stayed awake long after her breaths had deepened into the rhythm of sleep. His mind churned.
Just as Kade finally felt exhaustion beginning to pull him under, a sound jolted him back—three sharp knocks at the door.
Kade's entire body went still. His senses flared, predator-sharp, ears tuning into the subtle creak of weight shifting outside the door, the faint scrape of a boot across the hallway floorboards.
Whoever it was, they weren't here for idle conversation.
And Kade already knew—it was trouble.
Kade's body was already coiled tight as a spring when he reached the door. Every instinct told him not to open it—but instinct wasn't something he had the luxury of following tonight.
The hinges groaned as the door swung back, revealing the tall, broad figure on the other side.
"Beta Kade?"
"Alpha Kingsley." Kade's reply was clipped, controlled, though his jaw worked like he wanted to grind the man's title into dust.
"I believe you have something that belongs to me." Kingsley's dark eyes swept past Kade's shoulder, scanning the room as though he might spot May.
Kade's hand tightened on the doorframe. "Something?"
"I would really prefer not talking out here."
Kade's eyes narrowed. He shut the door without another word, the lock clicking in finality.
His gaze flicked to May. She was still curled on the bed, the dim glow of the bedside lamp washing her skin in honeyed light.
He strode to the couch, snatched his shirt, and crossed the room in three long steps. He tapped her shoulder and jolted her awake.
"Get up and put this on over your nightdress," he ordered.
She blinked at him, confused, still caught between dreams and the pull of his command. "What… what is going on?"
(Please recommend this novel.)