Cassidy
I heard the door open.
I didn't turn.
I didn't move.
I just watched the fire flicker in the hearth, my arms wrapped tightly around myself.
I knew who it was.
His presence was impossible to ignore, the air shifting the moment he stepped into the room. Heavy. Pressing.
Kieran.
He closed the door behind him, the soft click sealing us inside together.
I should have been angry.
I should have thrown whatever I could reach, screamed at him, told him to get the hell away from me.
But not now, right now i was tired.
Not just in my body.
In my soul.
I was sick of fighting battles I couldn't win.
Sick of running only to be dragged back.
Sick of the games he was playing.
"We need to talk," he said.
I inhaled slowly, staring at the flames. "Do we?"
A pause.
Then—"Yes."
I finally turned to look at him.
Kieran stood near the door, his coat still dusted with snow, his dark hair slightly tousled, his sharp gaze locked only on me.
He looked… worn.
Like something was weighing on him.
I hated that it made my chest tighten.
I swallowed hard, keeping my voice level. "What could we possibly have to talk about?"
Kieran exhaled, stepping forward. "Your place here."
I stiffened. "I don't have a place here."
His jaw clenched. "You do."
I let out a sharp laugh. "Oh? As what? Your pet?"
Kieran's eyes darkened. "As my mate. Luna to the Quebec pack, second in charge after me."
The words sent a chill down my spine.
I knew what he had told them. I had been there when he declared it.
I forced my expression to remain neutral. "I am not Luna to anyone."
Kieran didn't flinch. "You don't have to believe it. That doesn't make it any less true."
A sharp, angry heat flared in my chest. "I am not some wolf you can claim. I didn't choose this."
"I wish you were a wolf I could claim."
The words left him so quietly that I almost didn't hear them.
I froze.
I felt my heart sink with a silent pain.
Because he meant it.
There was no smugness in his voice. No arrogance.
Just cold, hard certainty.
Something deep and unshakable.
He hated that I was human, he wanted a wolf.
I swallowed. "Then reject me."
Silence.
Kieran's expression didn't change.
"Reject me," I repeated, my voice sharp, demanding. "If you don't want this, then let me go."
His dark eyes locked onto mine, steady and unreadable. "I can't."
I sucked in a breath, my pulse hammering. "Won't."
He didn't deny it.
That realization sent a sick, twisting feeling through my stomach.
Because that was the truth of it, wasn't it?
He could let me go.
But he wouldn't.
Because he had decided—somewhere between America and here—that I was his.
And no amount of fighting, no amount of pleading, would change that.
I turned sharply, my hands trembling as I ran them through my hair. "You can't just keep me here like this."
"I can," Kieran murmured. "But I don't want to."
I hesitated. "Then what do you want?"
Another pause.
Then, softer—"I want you to stop fighting me."
I let out a bitter laugh, spinning back to face him. "Oh? You expect me to just accept this? To act like I belong here?"
Kieran's gaze flickered with something I couldn't name. "I expect you to survive."
The fire crackled behind me.
The heat of it seared against my back, but I felt cold.
Because that—more than anything—felt like a warning.
I took a slow, shaky breath. "Is that a threat?"
"No." Kieran's expression darkened. "It's reality."
I hated the way my stomach twisted at his words.
Because I believed him.
I hated that I believed him.
I clenched my fists. "Then why keep me locked here?"
"Because you're not safe, you keep trying to put yourself in harms way."
I scoffed. "Safe? I was safer at home. With my mother."
Kieran's jaw tensed. "Your mother isn't here anymore so get used to it."
I stiffened.
Because he had made that happen.
I turned away again, forcing down the lump in my throat. "I hate you."
Kieran didn't move. "I know, but I couldn't careless."
Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist even more.
Because he didn't sound smug.
He didn't sound satisfied.
He just sounded… tired.
The silence between us stretched, thick and suffocating.
Then, finally, Kieran exhaled. "Get some rest, Cassidy."
I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "You think I can sleep after this conversation?"
He didn't answer.
He just turned, stepping toward the door.
The lock clicked open.
I swallowed hard, waiting—expecting—to hear it click shut again behind him.
It didn't.
Kieran hesitated for half a second.
Then—"The door stays open."
My breath caught.
I turned, staring at his retreating back as he stepped into the hall, his presence lingering even as he disappeared from view.
He wasn't locking me in.
Not this time.
That should have felt like a victory.
But all I felt was uncertainty.
Because now, I had a choice.
I could leave the room.
I could wander through the halls of this estate, explore the world I had been thrown into.
I could pretend—just for a little while—that I wasn't a prisoner.
But the truth was, whether the door was locked or not…
I still had nowhere to go.
And that was worse.
Because at least when I was fighting—at least when I was running—I could pretend I had a way out.
Now?
Now, I wasn't so sure.
I swallowed hard, curling my arms around myself again as I stared at the open doorway.
I wasn't locked in.
But I wasn't free either.
And I didn't know which was worse.