Page 105 of Exiled Heir

Cade walked over to his bedside table, and I stood, sniffing the air of the room experimentally. There were a thousand interesting scents, most of them Cade. One under the bed wasn’t Cade. It was something…

The clank of metal snapped my attention. I spun where Cade was standing. He had a long strap of leather in his hand, the buckle making the noise that had gotten my attention.

Collar. Collar meant trapped. Collar meant chained. Collar meant danger. My lips peeled back from my teeth in a growl. Cade’s heart began beating fast, the terror in the air soupy-thick and making it impossible for me to think.

“All of the other consorts are going to be wearing their collars.” Cade struggled to keep his voice even. “You will be incredibly obvious if you don’t.”

I growled again but took several steps back. I wasn’t about to attack him—he was pack. Cade shook his head in frustration, throwing his hands up.

“Now isnotthe time. The hunt starts as soon as you get downstairs.”

I took even more steps back, and Cade turned to the window. He crossed his arms, the collar still fisted in his hand.

“Okay.” He was staring at the window, but his eyes fixed on my reflection in it, taking my measure. “I’ll work it out. Come with me.”

He walked toward the door, but I stepped in front of him, and he froze, the scent still thick. I moved forward. He needed to calm down.

I could shift back, become human and explain it, but that would defeat the purpose. He was calm with me when I was a human. He needed to be calm with my wolf.

Every single wolf would sense how afraid he was of me. They would smell the terror and anxiety, the trust that just wasn’t there. I couldn’t afford that.Hecouldn’t afford that.

Slowly, giving him time to back away, I walked forward, no creeping, no predatory slink. I pressed my head against the back of his hand.

He shifted uncomfortably, the collar in his other hand clanking again. I rubbed my face harder against his knuckles until he turned his palm, scratching under my chin.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured. “I didn’t think you would be.”

His fingers were scratching itches I didn’t even know I had, making me whole and complete in a way that I didn’t understand. This was pack. This was mine.Cadewas mine.

The thought forced its way through the primal wolf part of my brain, forcing me back into reality. Cade was just the guy signing my paycheck. He was my employer, that was all.

But I knew it was more than that. He was the man who had given me a pack again. He was the man who saw the alpha in me where everyone else saw danger.

He dug his fingers into the thick fur at the nape of my neck, scratching down my spine. I came up well past his hip, my head reaching as high as his elbow. I nuzzled against him as he continued to work his nails against my neck.

“We should go,” Cade said, but he made no move toward the door.

I turned my head again, pressing my nose against the soft fabric of his shirt. When I inhaled, all I smelled was him. No sour terror, no spike of anxiety.

“Will you be okay to lead the hunt?” Cade asked.

Stepping back, I let my mouth loll open, a grin parting my lips.

“If this is overconfidence…” He narrowed his eyes, and I chuffed another laugh.

“‘Was it overconfidence when Babe Ruth called a home run before he hit it?’ That’s what you’re going to say.”

I whined, rubbing my head against his hip, then trotted toward the door. As if I would ever use a reference that dated.

Shaking his head, Cade opened the door and began to walk down the empty hall. My wolf senses picked up more people in the house. Children and the cough of an elderly woman. The servants were talking amongst themselves, their panicked words tumbling over each other, water rushing over river stones.

“No. You’d say something like ‘Johnny Cash recording Nine Inch Nails’ song better than them wasn’t overconfidence. It was just what happens when you’re the best at what you do.’” Cade rolled his eyes to me, and I snorted at his impression of my voice.

We reached the bottom of the stairs, and the voices became clearer. A child whispered to his mother, “But I thought no one could sleep here. I thought the house was haunted.”

The mother hushed him as we passed, her eyes following us. We must have looked like an odd pair. I hadn’t been lying when I told Tyson I had been taught not to shift in a house. It was considered rude, like putting your shoes up on the dinner table.

“He’s massive,” one of the younger mages whispered to another. She raised her eyebrows. “Did you know he was that big?”