Chapter 151

DEREK

I would deal with Cassandra.

But not yet.

Not before I took care of the woman in front of me.

Elena sat on the bench like her bones might give out at any moment. Her skin was pale, almost ashen, and her hands trembled faintly even though she tried to hold them still in her lap. The wind caught the edges of her hair, brushing it across her cheek, but she didn’t react.

She was miles away.

“Elena,” I said softly.

Her eyes blinked once. Then again, slower this time. Like she was coming back to herself from a place I couldn’t reach.

“You need rest,” I murmured. “Come on.”

She opened her mouth like she was going to argue—like she might remind me that we still had ten thousand things to deal with. But then she sagged, just slightly, and nodded.

“Okay,” she whispered.

I called for the car, and when it pulled around, I helped her inside, keeping one hand on her back the whole time. She didn’t flinch at my touch, but she didn’t lean into it either.

That was fine.

She was here. That was enough.

The ride to the hotel was quiet. She stared out the window, unmoving, while I kept my wolf on a leash, my mind grinding through every thread of what we’d just learned.

Cassandra. Logan. Maggie.

I wanted blood for what they’d done.

But first—Elena.

When we got to her room, I unlocked the door and ushered her inside. It was mid-afternoon, but the curtains were drawn, soft light filtering in through the folds. The room smelled like her shampoo, her lotion. A sharp pang of familiarity hit me like a punch to the ribs.

Elena lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, her hands resting in her lap like she didn’t know what to do with them.

She didn’t say anything.

She just sat there, motionless.

I crouched in front of her and gently reached for her ankle. When she didn’t pull away, I took off her shoes one by one, setting them neatly to the side. Then I stood, pulled the covers back on the bed, and reached for her hand.

“Come on,” I said quietly. “Lie down.”

She blinked up at me again, her eyes rimmed with exhaustion, and then slowly did as I asked. She slid beneath the sheets like she was made of glass. I pulled the blankets up and over her, tucking them around her shoulders.

“Rest,” I said. My hand lingered near her face. I let myself brush her cheek gently, then leaned down and kissed her forehead.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Just closed her eyes.

I turned toward the door, every part of me ready to shift focus.

I needed to make phone calls—to the Alpha Council, to my Silverclaw enforcers. Logan needed to be located, arrested, detained.

I wanted Maggie’s confession formally logged for Council review. I wanted blood and order and answers and control.

I wanted Cassandra investigated, though I’d do that quietly—I owed her that much.

I reached for the door handle.

“Derek.”

I turned.

She had sat up slightly, the blankets still wrapped around her. Her voice was soft, uncertain.

“Will you stay?” she asked.

Her eyes met mine. Raw. Open.

“Will you stay with me?”

Her words hit me harder than any blow ever could have.

Stay.

She wanted me. Not as a shield. Not as a soldier.

Just as... me.

Something warm and fierce welled up inside my chest. A tightness that bordered on unbearable.

“Yes,” I said, voice rough. “I can do that.”

I moved back across the room without thinking, toeing off my boots quietly so I didn’t startle her. Elena slid back under the covers, her small form curling onto her side, facing the window.

I didn’t even hesitate.

I lay down on the bed, staying atop the covers, careful to keep a respectful distance.

But after a few heartbeats, I shifted closer. Close enough that I could curve my body around hers, spooning behind her without pressing into her space too much.

She didn’t pull away.

I rested my forehead lightly against the back of her head, breathing her in.

She smelled like lavender soap, faint adrenaline, and something uniquely, maddeningly Elena.

I realized—struck suddenly, sharply—that I had never done this before.

Never just... laid with her.

Offered comfort without expectation.

When she had been with Silverclaw—back before everything shattered—I would fall asleep with her sometimes after long, heated nights. After I'd taken her to bed with all the reckless hunger of a wolf who didn’t know how to love properly.

But even then, it had been different.

Sex first. Sleep after.

This—

This was new.

This was choice.

Holding her for the sake of holding her.

Being here because she needed warmth, not possession.

I breathed her in again, letting my arms curl around her lightly, offering my strength, my steadiness.

Slowly, I felt the tension bleed out of her body.

She relaxed into me, her breathing slowing, deepening.

I stayed awake for a long time after she drifted off, listening to the soft sounds of her breath, feeling the fragile way she trusted me enough to sleep with me at her back.

And all the while, my mind raced.

Logan.

Gone rogue.

Conspiring against her. Against us.

Maggie.

Broken but maybe not evil.

And Cassandra—

Cassandra Laurent would learn what it meant to betray the pack that had always held her close.

To betray my mate.

Eventually, exhaustion pulled at me, too.

The steady rhythm of Elena’s breathing, the scent of her hair, the steady warmth of her body against mine—it was a lullaby more potent than anything else.

I let my eyes close.

And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I allowed myself to sleep beside her.

Not as a conqueror.

Not as a protector.

Just as Derek.

---

A sharp knock at the door jolted me awake.

For a second, I didn’t know where I was.

I sat up too fast, heart pounding, disoriented by the dim light filtering through the heavy curtains and the scent of Elena still clinging to me.

Another knock.

I glanced down instinctively—Elena was still sleeping, her face pressed into the pillow, her hands curled under her chin like a child. The sight of her settled something wild in me.

Quietly, I slid off the bed, smoothing a hand over her blanket before I crossed the room.

When I cracked open the door, my Silverclaw driver stood there awkwardly, holding out a familiar object—my phone.

"You left it in the car, Alpha," he said.

I took it with a nod, already thumbing the screen awake.

Three missed calls. One voicemail.

All from Joe.

Shit.

I stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door shut softly behind me so I wouldn’t wake her, and pressed the phone to my ear.

Joe answered on the first ring.

"Alpha," he said, his voice clipped. Urgent. "We have a problem."

My stomach dropped.

"What is it?" I barked.

"Logan," Joe said. "He’s gone."

The words were simple.

Plain.

But they detonated like a bomb in my brain.

Gone.

Not arrested. Not detained.

Gone.

"He disappeared from Blackwood territory sometime early this morning," Joe said. "His enforcers claim they thought he was taking a personal day to recover from the wedding festivities."

"Convenient," I growled.

Joe didn’t argue.

"We've got trackers on it now," he said. "Last ping off his pack phone was near the southern borderlands."

The roguelands.

Of course.

Of course that coward would run for the one place the Council had no real authority.

A low, furious growl rumbled from my throat.

I dragged a hand through my hair, pacing a tight line down the hall and back.

"Get everyone moving," I said. "Discreetly. I don’t want his people knowing how hard we’re looking yet. I want Logan found. And I want him alive."

Joe hesitated.

"You sure you don't want—"

"Alive," I snapped.

Because I needed Logan to face what he'd done.

I needed Elena to have the satisfaction of the truth being dragged into the light.

And selfishly—I wanted to look him in the eyes when his world burned.

"Understood, Alpha," Joe said.

I ended the call and stood there for a second, letting the full weight of it settle over me.

Logan was gone. Running scared.

Good.

Because wherever he ran—whatever rocks he tried to hide under—

I would find him.

And I would end this.