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Evelyn rose in a rush. “Cyrus, that isn’t necessary.”
He shook his head, reaching for the small blanket at the end of the bed and the extra pillow. “I don’t mind—”
“Cyrus.”
“Saige, I will not put you in a position that may be uncomfortable or—”
“Cyrus,” Evelyn said, grabbing his hand, making him look at her. “I trust you.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Kade
Under the moon and stars, Kade had sipped the burning whiskey to bury his torment. To tell Evelyn. To not tell Evelyn. To have her. To lose her. Then pain had shot through his chest, so violently, so suddenly, it rocked him back like he’d been stabbed by a phantom dagger.
Evelyn.
The moon and stars had seemed to whisper her name.
Evelyn. Evelyn. Evelyn.
She was in danger. He’d felt it. Felt her. Felt her pain. And she needed him.
Kade had moved without thought, like he did so often when it came to her. Get to her. Protect her. They’d been the only thoughts consuming his mind as he’d abandoned his chair, run to her room, and barreled through the locked door, crashing it to the ground.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
Unlike other werewolves, Kade had never dreamed of having a mate. Since he was promised to a witch, it wasn’t possible. Witches and werewolves couldn’t be mates. Even with the prophecy, his union with Evelyn would be a forced bond by magic and rituals. Their destinies were intertwined by duty, not by souls and hearts.
Or so Kade had thought.
The moment he’d gazed into Evelyn’s eyes as she stood there in a sleeping tunic, the silvery gray of her stare ensnared him with the soul-binding truth. The absolute, unwavering knowing of who and what Evelyn was.
His mate.
Now, he stood before her, harboring that truth, his gaze not daring to flicker to her bare wrist. Because Evelyn had taken off her enchanted bracelet, and with her magic unhidden, his wolf had finally met it, recognized it, cherished it.
And Evelyn’s words rocked through Kade.
I trust you.
Her gray eyes searched his face, her cheeks flushed from the whiskey. He tuned into her heartbeat, her level breathing. Moons, she meant it. Kade could throw up from the guilt twisting his gut. She should not trust him. He was a liar, a fool, manipulative. He’d had ample opportunity to tell her who he was during their discussion as she’d told him secret after secret.
Stars above, the moon calmed her. He should’ve told her right then and there. You’re my mate. She’d left because of her coven’s idea of her, of what she needed to be. He should’ve told her he related, that he shared the pressures of being prophesied. He should’ve told her she was incredibly, most certainly, and devastatingly wrong. Her betrothed needed her, and she was his mate.
But all he said was, “All right.”
He dropped the pillow and blanket back onto the bed.
“All right,” Evelyn whispered.
She readied for bed, unlacing her boots. Kade shut the balcony door, put away the chairs, and fed the fire so it lasted through the night. He, too, readied for bed, removing his tunic but keeping on his britches. He found Evelyn already tucked under the bedsheets, her obsidian hair spilling over her pillow. Her shawl was slung over the chair to the left, her sleeping tunic still on.
He joined her under the sheets, and Kade had made the decision the moment she’d declared they’d sleep in the same bed. That was all they’d do. Nothing more. He kissed her forehead, putting his arm around her waist, pulling her back to his chest, and tucking her into him. Holding her close, keeping her safe.
Her body melted into his, and Kade tamed his wild wolf.
“Goodnight, Saige,” he said.
