MARKED FOR PRETEND - Chapter 18: Chapter 18
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Kaden's pov
The spiral courtyard. The night she finally came out.)
I wasn’t expecting her. Not tonight. Not here.
She stepped out like a whisper,half-shadow, half breath, wrapped in the kind of quiet that demanded attention without asking for it. Her arms were crossed tightly, but her gaze was steady. She didn’t look afraid. She looked worn, still her steps were steady, purposeful, bolder than I had expected after nearly two months of silence.
Her eyes locked onto mine, and before I could say a word, she beat me to it.
“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here?” She finally spoke
I blinked once, slowly. “I don’t force people to talk to me.”
Her mouth twitched. “Is that why you’re always so quiet?" I did not answer. Instead, I turned back to my blade and resumed the fluid rhythm of movement. Strike. Step. Breathe.
She stayed longer than I expected, just watching. Still wrapped in that guarded calm.
Eventually, I said quietly, “So… you finally left your room.”
She raised a brow. “Did you notice?”
I didn’t reply. Of course I noticed. Everyone did.
Especially me.
I returned to my training. The dagger moved cleanly through the air, slicing the tension between us like silk, still she didn’t leave.
Her voice was softer now. Curious.
“Do you fight often?” She asked.
“Enough.”
“Because you like it?”
I paused.
“Because I need a pack,” she said suddenly. “And packs fight, don’t they?”
That didn’t answer the question — and she knew it.
She stepped a little closer. “That wasn’t a yes or no.”
I didn’t turn. “Maybe I don’t want to answer.”
A beat.
“You’re not very good at small talk,” she muttered.
“You’re not very good at staying away,” I replied.
She rolled her eyes, and for the briefest moment, something that almost looked like amusement flashed across her face.
“Shouldn't I just chime in with something next? Isn’t that how conversations go?”
A flicker of something curved my lips,It might have been a smirk,or might have been surprise.
“Only when I’m not trying to terrify people.”
She raised a brow. “You think you terrify me?”
I didn’t answer immediately, I just let my gaze land on her slowly.
“You’ve not left your room in two months,” I said quietly. “You barely eat. You flinch when people say my name.”
Then I added, “And yet, somehow, you always find the nerve to talk back.”
Chelsea straightened her spine.“Maybe you’re the only one worth talking back to.”
That earned her something. Not quite a smile, but the tension in his jaw eased.
I let the silence stretch between us, then tossed the spare dagger toward her. She caught it with both hands, slightly off balance.
“Do you know how to use it?”
She tilted her head. “I have used one once,when I used it to cut wildberries and nearly sliced off my thumb.
Then added dryly, “I bled everywhere.”
I let out a quiet breath that might’ve been the start of a laugh.
“Try not to get blood on my carpets.” “The carpets aren’t yours." I looked at her fully this time. She stared back, chin slightly lifted, daring me.
“Everything in this place belongs to me,” I said, voice even. “Including you.”
She didn’t flinch. That made her dangerous.
I stepped closer slow, deliberate. She didn’t retreat. Just watched me with those wild eyes of hers.
“Grip it,” I instructed, nodding toward the dagger.
She obeyed, Awkwardly.
“Now hold it like you mean it.”
Her stance was a mess, shoulders tense, feet too wide apart. She was open,Exposed and vulnerable in every way.
I stepped behind her, placed one hand gently on her shoulder, the other at her waist to shift her center.
She went still.
Held her breath.
“Relax,” I murmured.
Her voice was barely audible when she answered, “It’s hard to relax when a man who barely blinks touches your waist.”
A flicker of something passed between us.
“Do you want me to blink more,” I said, voice low and close, “or touch less?”
She didn’t move. But something about her expression shifted,heat, confusion, maybe both.
She didn’t pull away.
Neither did I.
For a moment, I let it happen. Let the closeness fill the space between us. The feel of her body beneath my hand. The scent that never left my thoughts. The danger I kept pretending wasn’t real.
Then I let go.
The dagger slipped from her fingers and clattered softly to the floor.
We stood in silence. Again.
Eventually, we walked the spiral slow, unspoken steps. She was the first to speak.
“You’re not what they said.”
I didn’t look at her. “What did they say?”
“That you were a monster. Dangerous. Cold.”
She paused. “But you’re quite the opposite.”
I stopped walking. Turned to face her.
“What do you think of me now?”
She hesitated. Opened her mouth, closed it. The words didn’t come.
“I’ll take the silence,” I said softly. “It’s safer that way.”
And I turned and walked.
Because if I didn’t leave, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to.
⸻
I don’t get close. Not anymore.
Not after what happened.
Love never saved anyone in my bloodline.
It finds a way to destroy them.
My father was once the most feared Alpha in the North—until he met my mother. The mate bond made her his religion. He lived in her orbit. Breathed her air.
When she left, he came undone. Stopped shifting. Stopped ruling.
One night, he walked into a rogue ambush with three of his most loyal soldiers. None of them came back.
Some say it was betrayal. Others say it was madness.
I know what it was.
He died because his mate abandoned him.
And I swore, I had never be that man.
I kept my distance. I buried myself in the work, in silence.
There was a time when my Beta tried to drag me out of it. Said things like, “Go let loose, Kaden. Not every touch is a bond. You’ll rot before you even shift again.”
I ignored him.
I was safe behind the cold. Untouched by chaos.
Until her.
And now? Now, even silence is loud.
⸻
Kael didn’t stir. Not even a flicker. Not that I expected him to.
Kael — my wolf has been silent since the last fight months ago. We haven’t spoken since then
People whisper that even my wolf abandoned me.
They’re not wrong.
No growl. No whisper. No presence.
Just emptiness.
And maybe… that’s for the best.
The spiral courtyard. The night she finally came out.)
I wasn’t expecting her. Not tonight. Not here.
She stepped out like a whisper,half-shadow, half breath, wrapped in the kind of quiet that demanded attention without asking for it. Her arms were crossed tightly, but her gaze was steady. She didn’t look afraid. She looked worn, still her steps were steady, purposeful, bolder than I had expected after nearly two months of silence.
Her eyes locked onto mine, and before I could say a word, she beat me to it.
“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here?” She finally spoke
I blinked once, slowly. “I don’t force people to talk to me.”
Her mouth twitched. “Is that why you’re always so quiet?" I did not answer. Instead, I turned back to my blade and resumed the fluid rhythm of movement. Strike. Step. Breathe.
She stayed longer than I expected, just watching. Still wrapped in that guarded calm.
Eventually, I said quietly, “So… you finally left your room.”
She raised a brow. “Did you notice?”
I didn’t reply. Of course I noticed. Everyone did.
Especially me.
I returned to my training. The dagger moved cleanly through the air, slicing the tension between us like silk, still she didn’t leave.
Her voice was softer now. Curious.
“Do you fight often?” She asked.
“Enough.”
“Because you like it?”
I paused.
“Because I need a pack,” she said suddenly. “And packs fight, don’t they?”
That didn’t answer the question — and she knew it.
She stepped a little closer. “That wasn’t a yes or no.”
I didn’t turn. “Maybe I don’t want to answer.”
A beat.
“You’re not very good at small talk,” she muttered.
“You’re not very good at staying away,” I replied.
She rolled her eyes, and for the briefest moment, something that almost looked like amusement flashed across her face.
“Shouldn't I just chime in with something next? Isn’t that how conversations go?”
A flicker of something curved my lips,It might have been a smirk,or might have been surprise.
“Only when I’m not trying to terrify people.”
She raised a brow. “You think you terrify me?”
I didn’t answer immediately, I just let my gaze land on her slowly.
“You’ve not left your room in two months,” I said quietly. “You barely eat. You flinch when people say my name.”
Then I added, “And yet, somehow, you always find the nerve to talk back.”
Chelsea straightened her spine.“Maybe you’re the only one worth talking back to.”
That earned her something. Not quite a smile, but the tension in his jaw eased.
I let the silence stretch between us, then tossed the spare dagger toward her. She caught it with both hands, slightly off balance.
“Do you know how to use it?”
She tilted her head. “I have used one once,when I used it to cut wildberries and nearly sliced off my thumb.
Then added dryly, “I bled everywhere.”
I let out a quiet breath that might’ve been the start of a laugh.
“Try not to get blood on my carpets.” “The carpets aren’t yours." I looked at her fully this time. She stared back, chin slightly lifted, daring me.
“Everything in this place belongs to me,” I said, voice even. “Including you.”
She didn’t flinch. That made her dangerous.
I stepped closer slow, deliberate. She didn’t retreat. Just watched me with those wild eyes of hers.
“Grip it,” I instructed, nodding toward the dagger.
She obeyed, Awkwardly.
“Now hold it like you mean it.”
Her stance was a mess, shoulders tense, feet too wide apart. She was open,Exposed and vulnerable in every way.
I stepped behind her, placed one hand gently on her shoulder, the other at her waist to shift her center.
She went still.
Held her breath.
“Relax,” I murmured.
Her voice was barely audible when she answered, “It’s hard to relax when a man who barely blinks touches your waist.”
A flicker of something passed between us.
“Do you want me to blink more,” I said, voice low and close, “or touch less?”
She didn’t move. But something about her expression shifted,heat, confusion, maybe both.
She didn’t pull away.
Neither did I.
For a moment, I let it happen. Let the closeness fill the space between us. The feel of her body beneath my hand. The scent that never left my thoughts. The danger I kept pretending wasn’t real.
Then I let go.
The dagger slipped from her fingers and clattered softly to the floor.
We stood in silence. Again.
Eventually, we walked the spiral slow, unspoken steps. She was the first to speak.
“You’re not what they said.”
I didn’t look at her. “What did they say?”
“That you were a monster. Dangerous. Cold.”
She paused. “But you’re quite the opposite.”
I stopped walking. Turned to face her.
“What do you think of me now?”
She hesitated. Opened her mouth, closed it. The words didn’t come.
“I’ll take the silence,” I said softly. “It’s safer that way.”
And I turned and walked.
Because if I didn’t leave, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to.
⸻
I don’t get close. Not anymore.
Not after what happened.
Love never saved anyone in my bloodline.
It finds a way to destroy them.
My father was once the most feared Alpha in the North—until he met my mother. The mate bond made her his religion. He lived in her orbit. Breathed her air.
When she left, he came undone. Stopped shifting. Stopped ruling.
One night, he walked into a rogue ambush with three of his most loyal soldiers. None of them came back.
Some say it was betrayal. Others say it was madness.
I know what it was.
He died because his mate abandoned him.
And I swore, I had never be that man.
I kept my distance. I buried myself in the work, in silence.
There was a time when my Beta tried to drag me out of it. Said things like, “Go let loose, Kaden. Not every touch is a bond. You’ll rot before you even shift again.”
I ignored him.
I was safe behind the cold. Untouched by chaos.
Until her.
And now? Now, even silence is loud.
⸻
Kael didn’t stir. Not even a flicker. Not that I expected him to.
Kael — my wolf has been silent since the last fight months ago. We haven’t spoken since then
People whisper that even my wolf abandoned me.
They’re not wrong.
No growl. No whisper. No presence.
Just emptiness.
And maybe… that’s for the best.
End of MARKED FOR PRETEND Chapter 18. Continue reading Chapter 19 or return to MARKED FOR PRETEND book page.