Chapter 113

Kayla

Nicholas wrapped his arm firmly around my shoulders and guided me away from the reporters, ignoring their calls and follow-up questions. In a low voice, he told Marcus—who had just walked up to us—to take me home.

I didn’t argue, didn’t even look at him as I climbed into the car.

“My wedding with Kayla will not be delayed or called off. I love Kayla, and even with an unexpected baby in my life, nothing will come between me and my mate.”

The words echoed in my head, but they felt hollow, like a script he had rehearsed for the cameras. He hadn’t said them to me. He hadn’t even looked at me when he said them. And now, as Marcus climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car, I couldn’t help but feel a pang in my chest as I noticed that Nicholas was still standing on the curb.

Of course he would stay. Anna had just given birth to his son—or at least, a son he believed was his. He had a responsibility to be there, to support her, to bond with the baby.

But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Kayla.”

I turned to see Nicholas leaning through the car window, his amber eyes softer than they were before—not glimmering like they had been a few minutes ago, but… dull. Tired. Weary.

Before I could say anything, he reached out and cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing gently against my skin.

“It’s going to be fine,” he whispered.

And then he kissed my forehead.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat as his lips lingered against my skin. I didn’t know what to say, or even what to think.

But I didn’t have to, because then he pulled away, his hand dropping from my face as he stepped back.

“I’ll see you later,” was all he said.

And just like that, Marcus pulled away from the curb, leaving Nicholas standing there until he turned into a speck in the rearview mirror.

I remained silent for the entire ride home, although I think I was just too stunned to speak. Every so often, I would catch my fingers moving to touch the spot where Nicholas had kissed my forehead, but I would stop myself before I could.

Finally, we pulled into the driveway of the estate. I glumly thanked Marcus before getting out of the car and heading inside without another word. The house was quiet, save for the soft ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

It was well past midnight, so everyone else was likely fast asleep. Not that I was complaining, of course; I didn’t feel like battling the barrage of questions and comments from Jade and Emma. I made my way upstairs, my footsteps echoing in the corridor, and collapsed onto my bed.

Nicholas didn’t come home that night. And sleep didn’t come to me.

I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, my thoughts too consumed by the future—by the baby, by Anna, by the wedding. At one point, I reached for my phone, scrolling through my social media feed in a desperate attempt to distract myself.

But that was a mistake.

Of course, there, on the screen, was a candid photo of Nicholas and Anna. They were sitting close together in the hospital, their heads bent low as they looked at the baby cradled in Anna’s arms.

The caption read: “New family? Alpha Nicholas Reynolds and Anna share a tender moment with their newborn son.”

My heart shattered all over again.

The phone slipped from my hand, the sound of it hitting the floor beside the bed echoing through the silence. I passed both hands over my face and sat up in bed, the sheets pooling around my waist.

“Dammit,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “Get a grip, Kayla.”

It was then, as I lowered my hands to my lap, that I spotted the small hiking backpack hanging on the side of my wardrobe. An idea struck me then.

I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t sit here and wait for Nicholas to come home, to pretend like everything was fine when it so clearly wasn’t.

I needed to get away, even just for a day or two.

In a moment of impulsiveness fueled by my pain, I decided to go see Grace. It wasn’t the smartest decision—I knew that—but I didn’t care. I needed to escape, just for a little while. Besides, she likely needed the company, as I doubted that the warriors ever spoke to her what with their constant patrolling.

So I quickly packed a small bag, throwing in a few essentials, and scribbled a note explaining where I was going. I threw on some dark leggings, thick socks, and a wool sweater before grabbing my bag and padding downstairs.

I’d drive as close to the trailhead as I could, I figured, then hide the car and hike the rest of the way to the cabin. I’d likely be there in time for breakfast, exhausted but fine. No one would catch me. The guild wouldn’t be out searching in that area at this time of night, and like Noah had said, they took the bait on our false trail.

It would be fine. And not entirely stupid and insane.

But just as I was about to leave, the front door slammed open, the sound echoing through the house.

I froze, my heart pounding as I heard the sound of footsteps stumbling through the hallway. A moment later, Nicholas appeared in the doorway, his tie loosened, his hair disheveled, and his cheeks flushed with alcohol.

He was drunk.

My backpack slipped from my fingers and onto the floor.

“Kayla,” he slurred, his amber eyes lighting up as he spotted me. Before I could react, he crossed the room in a few quick strides and scooped me up into his arms, twirling me around as if we were dancing.

“Nicholas, what the hell!” I protested, my hands pushing against his chest, but he just laughed, his grip tightening around me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear as he set me back on my feet. His hands cupped my face, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks as he leaned in, his lips capturing mine in a sloppy, drunken kiss.

I wanted to push him away, to tell him to stop, but the moment his lips touched mine, the mate bond ignited, sending a surge of warmth through my body. My hands, which had been pushing against his chest, now curled into his shirt, pulling him closer as I kissed him back.

He kissed me again and again, his lips moving messibly from my mouth to my cheeks, my forehead, my neck, my collar bones, each touch sending shivers down my spine. My body trembled with pleasure at each open-mouthed kiss, but my mind was a whirlwind of confusion.

What had gotten him like this? Why was he here, drunk and kissing me, when he should have been at the hospital with Anna and the baby?

But I didn’t have time to think about it, because Nicholas was already scooping me up again, carrying me down the hallway toward my bedroom. He stumbled a few times, his drunkenness making him unsteady on his feet, but he didn’t let go of me, and his lips never once left my skin.

When we finally reached my bedroom, he laid me down on the bed, his body collapsing beside me as he pulled me into his arms. His hands were gentle as they cradled me, his lips pressing soft, sloppy kisses to my hair.

I willed myself to push him away and demand answers, but I couldn’t. My body relaxed against his, comforted by his presence, by the warmth of his arms around me.

For a moment, just a moment, I let myself enjoy this—this brief, drunken closeness. Whether he was trying to make love to me or not, I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel the warmth of his skin against mine.

Just one last time, I told myself as my fingers curled in his hair and as I pressed my face against the warm, buttery flesh of his neck. Just one last moment of closeness before reality returned tomorrow.

But then Nicholas spoke, his voice slurred against my skin.

“That’s not my baby…”

My eyes widened, my heart skipping a beat as I looked up at him. But he had already fallen fast asleep on top of me.