MARKED FOR PRETEND - Chapter 57: Chapter 57
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She didn’t go to her quarters, she went to his.
Kaden was already there — sitting in the dark, half-shifted, back to the door. But the moment she entered, he knew.
He didn’t turn. He didn’t need to.
“I thought you’d disappear again,” he said softly.
“I did too.”
Chelsea closed the door behind her. The quiet was heavier than silence. It was safe.
She stepped closer.
“You didn’t shift during the attack.”
“Didn’t need to.”
“You wanted to, though.”
“I always want to,” he admitted. “When they look at you like they own a piece of your story. When they say your name like it belongs to prophecy. When they make you flinch.”
He turned his head slightly, eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
“I just want you to be safe. To be mine, without having to fight for the right.”
“I am yours,” she whispered.
⸻
She knelt behind him, resting her hands on his back. His muscles tensed beneath her touch, then slowly gradually softened.
“You don’t have to protect me from the world, Kaden,” she said. “But if the world comes for you… I’ll burn it myself.
His heartbeat was steady now. Not calm, but decided.
“They saw what happens when they come for me,” she said softly. “What happens if they come for you again?”
Kaden didn’t answer with words.
He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.
And when she fell asleep, curled in his warmth, he didn’t follow.
He got up.
The hall was cold. The scent of blood from yesterday still clung to the stone.
Kaden stood at the head of the war table, jaw set, arms folded. The guards gathered one by one — his inner circle, the strongest fighters, those who had watched him tear through assassins like paper.
“They think this ends with a warning,” he said, voice low. “It doesn’t.”
Bevy, standing in fresh bandages, lifted a brow. “What do you want done?”
“We tighten our borders. No one gets in without my mark. No group is above suspicion. No offering is untested.”
“And if someone tries to flee?”
Kaden’s voice darkened.
“Then they’re not innocent.”
⸻
He turned to a scout.
“Start gathering names. I want a list of every pack, every faction, and every clan that has not sent word since the summit. They’re not neutral. They’re hiding.”
He stepped back from the table, eyes sharp.
“We are not waiting for war to find us.”
“And Chelsea?” Bevy asked.
“She’s not to be disturbed.”
She slept for the rest of the day.
When she woke, he was gone.
A tray of food waited at the edge of the bed. A note, written in his sharp hand:
Three days. Take them. Rest. Think.
When you rise again, they will see what kind of power walks beside me.
— K
Kaden was already there — sitting in the dark, half-shifted, back to the door. But the moment she entered, he knew.
He didn’t turn. He didn’t need to.
“I thought you’d disappear again,” he said softly.
“I did too.”
Chelsea closed the door behind her. The quiet was heavier than silence. It was safe.
She stepped closer.
“You didn’t shift during the attack.”
“Didn’t need to.”
“You wanted to, though.”
“I always want to,” he admitted. “When they look at you like they own a piece of your story. When they say your name like it belongs to prophecy. When they make you flinch.”
He turned his head slightly, eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
“I just want you to be safe. To be mine, without having to fight for the right.”
“I am yours,” she whispered.
⸻
She knelt behind him, resting her hands on his back. His muscles tensed beneath her touch, then slowly gradually softened.
“You don’t have to protect me from the world, Kaden,” she said. “But if the world comes for you… I’ll burn it myself.
His heartbeat was steady now. Not calm, but decided.
“They saw what happens when they come for me,” she said softly. “What happens if they come for you again?”
Kaden didn’t answer with words.
He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.
And when she fell asleep, curled in his warmth, he didn’t follow.
He got up.
The hall was cold. The scent of blood from yesterday still clung to the stone.
Kaden stood at the head of the war table, jaw set, arms folded. The guards gathered one by one — his inner circle, the strongest fighters, those who had watched him tear through assassins like paper.
“They think this ends with a warning,” he said, voice low. “It doesn’t.”
Bevy, standing in fresh bandages, lifted a brow. “What do you want done?”
“We tighten our borders. No one gets in without my mark. No group is above suspicion. No offering is untested.”
“And if someone tries to flee?”
Kaden’s voice darkened.
“Then they’re not innocent.”
⸻
He turned to a scout.
“Start gathering names. I want a list of every pack, every faction, and every clan that has not sent word since the summit. They’re not neutral. They’re hiding.”
He stepped back from the table, eyes sharp.
“We are not waiting for war to find us.”
“And Chelsea?” Bevy asked.
“She’s not to be disturbed.”
She slept for the rest of the day.
When she woke, he was gone.
A tray of food waited at the edge of the bed. A note, written in his sharp hand:
Three days. Take them. Rest. Think.
When you rise again, they will see what kind of power walks beside me.
— K
End of MARKED FOR PRETEND Chapter 57. Continue reading Chapter 58 or return to MARKED FOR PRETEND book page.