Page 4 of Kept (Mating Run #4)

The kid on his bed was curled up like he still might bolt.

Too-skinny legs drawn up, knees pressed together.

Shoulders hunched forward, creating a curve of spine that spoke of years learning to make himself smaller.

His fists were knotted tight in the sheets— Kade’s sheets, the ones that still carried yesterday's sweat, last night's restless dreams. Not shaking, not exactly, but vibrating with something.

Like a guitar string plucked and left to hum.

Brown hair tousled like he'd run through wind, or worse. Like hands had been in it. Like he'd been grabbed. The thought made Kade's jaw clench.

Those eyes, though. Big, wide, the color of whiskey in firelight. Locked right on Kade like he was both salvation and executioner.

Christ. That face.

He was grown, but couldn't be older than twenty. Pale skin flushed pink at the cheekbones, at the throat where his pulse jumped visibly. Wired tight with fear that rolled off him in waves.

But not just fear. Something else floated in the air, thick enough to taste. It hit Kade the second he crossed the threshold, wrapped around his lungs and squeezed.

His scent. Panic was at the surface, sharp and acrid, but beneath it: need. Raw, unprocessed. Real.

The bone-deep kind that came from being alone too long. From wanting to be held down by something stronger until the world stopped spinning.

Kade felt it in his teeth first, that ache in his canines like they wanted to drop. In his gut, low and hot. The wolf inside him lifted its head, ears pricked forward, suddenly awake in a way it hadn't been in months.

This wasn't prey. Not quite. Prey ran. Prey didn't climb through windows and curl up in beds that reeked of alpha wolf. Prey didn't look at you with those eyes, equal parts terror and hope.

Mine , the wolf whispered from somewhere behind his ribs. Not yet. But close.

So fucking close he could taste it.

The kid sat perfectly still on the bed. Kade could see the effort it took not to shift, not to crawl backward into the corner where the walls would guard his back.

Every muscle in that too-thin body was locked, fighting instinct.

But he didn't move. Just sat there, knuckles white on the sheets like a lifeline, like if he let go he'd float away.

Hunger pooled low in Kade's gut, spreading thick and dark through his veins. His cock responded, swelling with the warm promise of everything this could turn into.

The boy had come straight into his house. Crawled into his bed. His scent was all over the sheets now, mixing with Kade's own. Creating something new. Something that made Kade's wolf pace restlessly.

The kid's shirt was torn at the shoulder. Just a little rip, but Kade's eyes caught on it, on the glimpse of pale skin beneath. There was a bruise forming on his collarbone—no, bruises. Fresh over the bone, then purple-green at the edges.

New on top of old.

Kade's hands flexed at his sides. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Please," the kid said. His voice cracked halfway through the word, and something in Kade's chest clenched. "I'm Eli."

Like his name was an offering. Like it might buy him safety.

"Kade." His voice came out lower than he meant. Almost a growl. "You planning to get eaten, Eli?” The words came out rough, scraped raw by the effort of not moving closer.

The boy flinched, shoulders jerking, but didn't look away. Brave little thing. Or maybe just too tired to run anymore. Kade could see him swallow, throat working. Could hear his heartbeat, rabbit-quick but steadying.

"My family threw me out tonight," Eli continued, and his voice got smaller. "I know I shouldn't be here."

That part struck something deep. Kade didn't show it, kept his face neutral, but inside his wolf snarled.

Thrown out. Tonight?

His so-called family had literally thrown him to the wolves.

Eli kept going, words tumbling out faster now, like he had to get them all out before Kade threw him out, too.

"Please don't make me go back outside. The others are out.

I could hear them. They've been near the neighborhood and I—I didn't know where else to go. Your house was the only one that was…” He stopped, swallowed again. "Safe."

That landed heavier than anything else.

The others. Fuck. Probably packlings out on the annual run.

Young wolves, drunk on moonlight and instinct.

Idiots with more hormones than sense, half-shifted and hunting for anything that smelled like fear.

Some of them, barely trained, couldn't be trusted to tell the difference between the participants who wanted to be chased and caught, and the ones who were just trying to survive the night.

Kade had warned them every year: stick to the boundaries, keep it in the woods, don't interfere with humans who weren't looking to play. The run had rules. Had always had rules.

But some of them didn't listen. They chased what wasn't theirs. Got off on making someone run. On the power of being the thing in the dark that made hearts race.

This boy wasn't running from them, though. He was hiding.

Smart.

Smarter than most humans would be. He'd found the one house that belonged to something scarier than the young wolves outside. Whether he knew it or not, whether instinct or accident had driven him here, he'd walked into the apex predator's den and thrown himself on its mercy.

Eli's eyes flicked past Kade toward the window, then back. Quick, nervous. Checking for movement in the dark. He wasn't lying about the danger. His scent, that bone-deep fear mixed with exhaustion, said everything Kade needed to know.

Eli was scared, yes, but more than that—he was at the end of his rope.

Letting him go out there would mean throwing him out as bait. Worse.

The boy was watching him with those wide eyes, still bracing for rejection. For Kade to be just another person who wouldn't help.

His family had thrown him out—tonight, but probably in smaller ways before that, too. That was how a family produced people who knew how to make themselves small, who flinched at shadows, who climbed through strangers' windows because even that was safer than home.

Kade took a step forward. Not much. Just enough to test what Eli would do. To see if he'd scramble back, if he'd run.

Nothing.

Not a flinch. Just a breath drawn too sharp, chest rising and falling faster. His eyes tracked Kade's movement, but his body stayed still. Trusting or frozen, Kade couldn't tell. Maybe both.

Another step. The floorboards creaked under Kade's weight. Eli's gaze dropped to Kade's bare feet, traveled up his legs, caught on the obvious bulge in his gym shorts. His eyes widened slightly, then jumped away, and his cheeks flushed darker.

Interesting.

Not just fear, then. Not just the need for shelter.

Kade moved closer and felt his own restraint scraping under his skin like claws trying to get out. He didn't hide it. Let the boy see what he was dealing with. What kind of monster he'd chosen to trust.

The wolf in him was pacing now, pushing at the boundaries of his control.

It wanted to prowl closer, wanted to crowd the boy back into the mattress, wanted to cover him with its scent until no other wolf would dare come near.

Mark him. Claim him. Mine mine mine , beating through Kade's blood like a second heartbeat.

But the human part, the part that still had some control, saw something else. Saw the way Eli's hands trembled. Saw the exhaustion in the slump of his shoulders. Saw a boy who'd been running for who knows how long, who'd been thrown away by the people who should have kept him safe.

Kade's instincts flared in about five different directions, tearing him apart.

Part of him wanted to growl, to assert dominance, to make it clear who was in charge here.

Part of him wanted to kneel beside the bed and ask why Eli thought he had to be so quiet when he wanted something.

Why he was so practiced at making himself small.

Another part, the older, darker part, wanted to grab those skinny wrists and pin them right into the sheets where his scent already lived. Wanted to hold him down until he stopped shaking, until he understood he was safe because Kade said so.

Instead he stayed still.

Gave the room time to quiet. Let Eli's breathing slow from panic to something more manageable. Let the boy realize Kade wasn't going to lunge at him. Wasn't going to hurt him.

"I'm not going to send you out there," Kade said finally.

Eli's whole body sagged with relief—just for a second before he caught himself, straightened his spine like someone had caught him breaking a rule. That quick correction told Kade more than any words could have.

The boy was used to having relief yanked away.

And he expects me to do the same.

"But."

There it was. Eli's shoulders hunched slightly, already bracing for the catch. For whatever price he'd have to pay. His fingers twisted deeper into the sheets, knuckles going white.

Kade tilted his head, studying him. The wolf in him was cataloging everything—the rapid pulse in that exposed throat, the sweet scent of submission mixed with fear, the way the boy kept stealing glances at him like he was both salvation and damnation.

"You've done this before. Found places to hide. "

Eli's jaw worked, but he didn't answer. Didn't need to. But there was something else in the way he held himself, a tension that wasn't just fear. His eyes kept darting to Kade's mouth, his hands, before jerking away.

"How many times?" Kade kept his voice neutral. Conversational. Like they were discussing the weather instead of how many times this boy had begged for shelter. Like his wolf wasn't clawing at him to claim, to mark, to keep.

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me."

Eli's breath caught at something in Kade's tone. “A dozen times. Two. I don't—" He stopped himself, swallowed whatever he was about to say.

Eli's eyes flicked up, then away. Found a spot on the wall to stare at. "They had their reasons."