Page 38 of Lycan Prey (Little Secrets Duet #1)

· Aubrey ·

I stride behind Soren; his shoulders are tense, and the usual ease of his stride is replaced by a stiffness that makes my stomach churn.

As we ascend the staircase to our room, I can’t help but replay Max’s innocent words in my head, words that seemed to hang in the air long after I tucked him into bed and switched off his dinosaur lamp.

The silence between us feels heavy, a weight that presses down on my chest. With every step, I glance at Soren’s profile, searching for a hint of emotion, but he’s a mask of neutrality.

Still, something about the way he hasn’t so much as glanced my way since we left Max’s room tells me he heard more than enough.

Did Max’s words stir some dormant feelings within Soren? Or perhaps it’s the opposite—maybe he’s upset, thinking I’ve overstepped boundaries with his son.

We enter the bedroom, and the familiar space suddenly feels foreign and too small; I suddenly feel unwelcome.

Soren moves around, his actions deliberate and precise.

There’s a methodical nature to the way he removes his jacket and places it over the back of a chair, a routine that seems to exclude me tonight as he gets ready for bed.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, my voice a whisper against the thick silence.

He pauses for a moment, his back still turned to me. I wait, holding my breath, but he doesn’t speak. Instead, he resumes his nightly ritual, leaving my question to dissipate into the quiet room.

The room’s silence stretches taut as I linger by the door, my fingers twisting together at the uncertainty. Soren’s shoulders are rigid as he pulls back the duvet. His jaw is set, and even from behind, I can sense the walls he’s erected.

“Listen, Soren,” I start, edging closer, my voice barely above a murmur, “I’m sorry if what Max said earlier caused any discomfort. It wasn’t my intention to—”

My words hang incomplete as he slides into bed without acknowledging me, pulling the covers up in a smooth motion that doesn’t betray a single ripple of emotion. I stand there, a figure rooted in place, my apology dissolving into the cool air of the room. “I can stay in my room if you prefer?”

“Not necessary,” he answers, and I chew my lip, feeling out of place as he switches his lamp on and grabs his book. “Can you turn the light off?” he asks, opening the book but not glancing at me.

I flick the light off, so the only light remaining comes from his dim lamp beside the bed.

Retrieving my pajamas, I move to the bathroom to get changed.

As I slip into my soft cotton nightwear, I steal a glance at him through the slightly ajar bathroom door.

His attention is lost in the cream pages of his book.

Returning to the room, I hesitantly approach the bed, careful not to disturb him. The floor creaks under my weight and his eyes flicker toward me for a brief second before returning to his book.

The pages rustle as he flicks them. I hesitate, wondering if I should sleep on the sofa by the window. Without lifting his gaze, he pats the empty place beside him. His silent invitation causes an awkward flutter in my stomach. I quietly climb into bed, tugging at the duvet.

A silent sigh escapes me as I watch him, the moonlight casting a pale glow over his form. The stillness between us is a chasm I’m hesitant to bridge.

“Max... he misses having a mom around, despite not remembering what having one around is like,” Soren finally says, his voice low and even.

It’s the first acknowledgment of the elephant in the room, and it catches me off guard.

He doesn’t look at me, staring instead at the book in his hand, but there’s a softness in his tone that wasn’t there before.

I swallow, feeling the weight of Max’s innocent words from bedtime. “I know,” I reply softly. “And I want you to understand, Soren, I’m not trying to step into her shoes. I’m here for Max, to care for him, but I’m not trying to replace your wife.”

For a moment, he’s motionless, then he nods once, an almost imperceptible movement.

Without a word, he sets his book aside and flicks the lamp off.

He then rolls over, turning his back to me again.

I nod, knowing it is the end of the conversation, and wiggle back down under the covers, trying to get comfortable.

There’s a sickening echo to the painful knots twisting in my gut.

The room sinks into gloomy darkness, the only light a lone sliver from the ensuite seeping through the minute gap under the door.

Shadows flicker and dance on the walls as the wind outside sways the leafless branches of an old maple tree.

Its long branches scratch against the window, producing a soft, eerie music that adds to the chill creeping into my bones.

Absently, I run my fingers on the cold silk sheets beneath me, a stark contrast with the warmth that Soren’s body emanates behind me. I let my eyes flutter closed, surrendering to the insistent tug of exhaustion.

As we both drift off to sleep, I’m restless.

It creeps up slowly at first, then intensifies when I’m suddenly awoken by pains in my stomach, feeling the infidelity and knowing Rhett is with Bianca once again.

I just want a night off from this torture.

The weight of his infidelity grows heavier within me, causing me to groan in despair and agony.

Carefully, I attempt to climb out of bed without waking Soren, my movements slow and deliberate as I try to reach the bathroom. Just as I feel the cool air on my legs as I swing my legs out of the bed, an arm wraps tightly around my waist, pulling me back into the warmth of the bed.

“One day, you will give me his name so I can end this,” Soren whispers softly, tugging me back against him until his body lines my entire back.

His hand slips under my top to my stomach, his warm hand holding me to him. At that moment, his calling slips out, and as the pain intensifies, his calling becomes even more powerful, his purr vibrating through my entire being.

“Perhaps,” I whisper.

He will eventually figure it out. His arm tightens around me, comforting me against Rhett’s betrayal.

His lips touch my shoulder gently. “I just need his name. If he won’t reject you, I will end him and break the bond for you,” he promises. His tone is steady, a controlled anger simmering. .

“And yet, I fear that day,” I confess softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Why? He causes you pain. He clearly doesn’t care for your bond.”

I’m silent for a moment, wrestling with my fears and desires. “It’s complicated,” I start, hesitant. “I’m… afraid of losing what I have here.”

“Why would knowing his name make you lose everything here?” His question is direct, searching for truths I’m not ready to reveal.

I bite my lip, struggling to articulate the fear that knots my stomach. “You might see me differently,” I admit, my voice a whisper of vulnerability.

“And how do you want me to see you?” he asks, a softness edging his voice that makes my heart flutter with uncertainty.

“I know it sounds stupid, but... my bond is all I have. I gave up everything for him,” I confess, the admission feeling both freeing and terrifying. Mostly, I feel naive; I should have listened to my parents.

Soren shifts, his presence enveloping me as he pulls me closer.

“What if it’s not all you have?” he murmurs against my hair. ”What if you can have Max, have a life here? What are you hiding, Bree? What has you so scared?”

“I’m scared that once you learn the truth, you won’t want me here anymore.”

He’s silent for a moment, his grip loosening a little. Then he pulls me even closer, his breath warming the back of my neck. My heart hammers in my chest, my breaths shallow and shaky.

“Please, just drop it. I... I can’t say,” I confess, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Bree,” he says, his voice low and insistent. “You can trust me.”

The silence stretches out between us as I ponder the cost of this trust. I trusted Rhett once, too.

“Maybe one day,” I finally respond, hoping it’s enough.

His arm around me tightens just a fraction before he sighs softly. His calling grows stronger, sedating even. As sleep starts to tug at my consciousness again, Soren softly whispers, “One day is better than never.”