Cassius’s POV
The moon hung low in the sky, shrouded by dark clouds that carried the scent of impending rain. It mirrored the heaviness in my chest as I walked the perimeter of the pack lands. Every step echoed with the weight of responsibility, but my thoughts weren’t entirely here. They drifted-always-to her.
April.
I tightened my coat against the chill and shook my head, trying to focus on the task at hand.
“She’s going to drive me insane,” I muttered under my breath, but there was no real heat in the words.
My Beta, Gabriel, chuckled from beside me, clearly having overheard. “You’ve got it bad, Alpha.”
I shot him a sideways glance. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“She’s different,” he said, his tone turning serious. “I can see why you’re drawn to her. But… does she know?”
I knew what he meant. Does she know I’m an Alpha? Does she know what I’m risking every time I leave her side to deal with the rogues threatening our lands?
“No,” I said finally. “Not yet.”
Gabriel stopped walking, his hand gripping my arm. “Cassius, you can’t keep this from her forever. If she finds out on her own-”
“I know.” My voice came out sharper than I intended, and I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I know, Gabriel. But right now, it’s not about me. It’s about her. If I tell her what I am too soon, it might push her further away. I can’t risk that.”
Gabriel studied me for a moment before nodding. “Alright. But don’t wait too long. Secrets have a way of unraveling at the worst times.”
I nodded, grateful for his understanding, but the truth was, I didn’t need his warning. The thought of losing April because of something I hadn’t told her haunted me every day.
We continued walking in silence; the only sounds were the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant howl of a lone wolf. My mind drifted again, this time to the meeting that had taken place earlier in the day.
The rogues were scattered, and their disorganized attacks on our borders were reduced to sporadic skirmishes. But the elders had uncovered something far more troubling-a larger force gathering just beyond our territory. Rogues weren’t typically organized, but this was different. Someone-or something-was pulling the strings.
“We’re close to answers,” Gabriel said as if reading my thoughts.
“Not close enough.” My jaw tightened. “If there’s a larger threat out there, it’s my duty to face it. But I can’t do that while leaving the pack vulnerable.”
“You’ve trained us well,” Gabriel said. “The pack will hold.”
I stopped walking, turning to face him. “I’m not worried about the pack. I’m worried about her.”
“April?”
“Yes,” I admitted, my voice softening. “She doesn’t know about any of this. About me. About the pack. I can’t explain why I need to leave without telling her the truth, but I can’t leave without telling her something.”
Gabriel placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You’ll find the words, Alpha. You always do.”
I hoped he was right.
—
By the time I reached the bar, it was late. The rain had started to fall, a soft drizzle that misted my coat as I climbed the stairs.
April’s boss, Dave, informed me that April was in her apartment above the bar, and I had never been there before. I hope she did not mind. I found the door open, and I just stood by the doorway, watching her do her thing.
I could stare at her for hours.
She stood there in sweatpants and a loose hoodie, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. She looked comfortable, relaxed, and utterly beautiful.
I knew the sight of her standing in her small kitchen, half-turned away with that guarded look in her eyes, would haunt me for a while.
“Am I interrupting?” I asked, my voice warm and tinged with hesitation.
She shook her head, “No. I was just… thinking.”
I wonder what had her mind so preoccupied. Was I one of the things that occupied her mind?
I really wish I was.
“I brought these for you,” I said, holding out the flowers I had gotten her. I had gotten her some roses. I know they are a bit cliche, but I am experimenting with different things to know what she likes because I know she would not openly tell me. That’s just April being April.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d like them, but they reminded me of you,” I told her honestly.
She raised an eyebrow as she took the bouquet from me. “How do roses remind you of me?”
I smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Beautiful but with thorns. Tough as hell but still soft in the right light.”
I could see her cheeks getting heated, and I liked that I could get a reaction out of her, “You’re laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?”
“Maybe,” I admitted, “But it’s all true.”
“What do you want, Cassius?” she asked as she approached me. For a second, I thought she was coming to give me a hug, but then she gestured for me to enter her apartment, and I felt disappointed at being excited for the hug that never came.
She closed the door and leaned against it, watching me with that guarded expression she always wore. It was less pronounced now, though. The walls she’d built around herself were slowly coming down, and knowing I was the reason made my chest tighten with something warm and unfamiliar.
“I need to talk to you,” I said after a moment.
Her brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I said quickly. “I just… I need to leave town for a while. Family business,” I said. “It’s complicated, but it’s important.”
She studied me for a long moment, and I could see the wheels turning in her mind.
“And you came to tell me?” she asked finally, her tone soft but tinged with something I couldn’t quite place.
“Of course I did.” I stepped closer, closing the distance between us. “I know I didn’t the last time, and I’m sorry for that. But this… whatever this is between us… it matters to me. You matter to me.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, I thought I’d said too much. But then she nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor.
“I’m not used to this,” she said quietly. “To someone… caring.”
I reached out, gently tilting her chin so she’d look at me. “Then get used to it, April. Because I’m not going anywhere. Not permanently, at least.”
Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came. Instead, she leaned into my touch, just for a moment, before pulling away.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she said, her voice steady but her eyes betraying the emotions she was trying to hide.
“I will,” I promised. “And I’ll come back to you.”
The words hung between us, heavy with meaning, before she nodded and turned away.
I left her apartment that night feeling lighter than I had in weeks. She wasn’t pushing me away anymore. And that, more than anything, gave me hope.
But as I walked back into the night, the weight of my responsibilities returned. Whatever threat lay beyond our borders, I would face it. For my pack. For my people.
And for her.