10. Kaden

Chapter 10

Kaden

" I t's a step forward," I say, guiding Sasha out of the building, my arm securely around her lower back. She's not pushing me away, but she's trembling, her face as pale as a ghost, clearly frightened by being wrongly accused of a crime.

"What is?" she finally answers, glancing up at me with those huge doe eyes, then she stares back at the busy road as though she's unsure where to go.

"For you accepting me as your fated mate."

She cuts me a piercing stare, then blinks, looking elsewhere as if she's lost.

"Thanks for testifying that I was with you last Wednesday."

"For you, I'd reach up into the sky and drag the moon down for you if it made you smile again."

She glances over, the corner of her lips attempting to curl into a grin, but it never makes it.

"What did they do to you?" I ask, leading her down the street, my hand slipping into hers, covering it completely. She doesn't pull away, which is a good sign, but she's shaking. Something scared her. I grind my jaw, determined to find and destroy it.

Her lips are pursed, and she's not answering me. The furrowed brow and gaze are lost in the distance, telling me she didn't hear my question. Or she refuses to answer it.

I jumped at the chance to come for her the moment the authorities arrived at my house, saying Sasha needed my help. Fuck, I would have run into the city, bowling over anyone who stood in my way. And now, I'm not letting her go.

What I found fascinating was that once I notified the authorities who I was, they were hesitant to let me testify, asking more questions about my approval to be in the House of Gold and Garnet. I have none, yet the moment I clarified that I'm Sasha's fated mate, they welcomed me without another issue. Does that mean she's my gateway to staying in the country without gaining formal approval?

I sure as fuck wish someone would tell the mercenaries on my tail that. Found two more in my yard this morning.

Anyway, I arranged for someone to drive Sasha and me back to my place, but she insists we go to hers. Something about a chowder, which I am led to believe is a meal. She must be hungry.

Sitting next to her in the back seat, our legs touching, she blinks a lot, hands curled in her lap. I touch her thigh tenderly, my body hyperaware of where we're touching, the need consuming me to take her into my arms, but I resist… for now.

"Want to talk about it? I can hurt them for wrongly blaming you. I'll burn down the whole damn building."

After a pause, she shakes her head, not shooting my idea down right away, which says a lot about her state of mind. It's hard watching her this way when I'm used to seeing her being strong, fighting me. I adore the fuck out of that, but this side of her, the vulnerability, squeezes at my chest. It brings out a primal desperation to wrap her up, protect her, and keep her safe.

"I'm here to protect you," I remind her.

Her shoulders slump a bit. "Except you can't protect me from my past."

I wait for her to elaborate, but she doesn't. I exhale heavily, fighting back the urge to insist that she tell me what's going on. Except I'm trying not to terrify the girl.

When we finally arrive at her place, she climbs out of the car without a word, and I take that as my cue to follow. I get out, telling the driver to leave us. Then I follow her into the tiny cabin in the woods.

The place is as I remember—small, cozy, and with minimal furniture. My hunting lodge back in Tartarus was better furnished than this. We might have lived in a prison world, but after thousands of years, those stuck inside made the world their home with all the comforts.

This cabin Sasha lives in is only temporary. I've already dug into her background. Sure, I may be new in the city, but I have a way of convincing people to give me the information I seek.

What I discovered is enough to know she's from a place called South Africa, but she's now in Norway for her job, and this cabin is under a rent-by-the-week plan. So, she doesn't have any real attachments to it, and it'll be easier for her to move out.

Shutting the door behind me, I turn to the scattering sound of nails on the wooden floor. From somewhere in the house comes running a little… rodent or something, wearing a blue vest. It skids to a stop in front of me, lifting on its hind legs in my direction. I don't need to know what sort of creature it is to instantly sense it's water-based, something I respect.

Sasha rushes to the critter, swooping it off its feet. Swinging it away from me, she whispers to the creature and kisses it on the cheek.

"Now remember, no more biting, okay?"

"That thing isn't going to hurt me," I state.

She faces me, laughing sarcastically, sounding high-pitched. "You'd be surprised. Chowder is rather fond of biting off fingers, so watch out. And he's an otter."

I chuckle. "That little thing?" So that's the critter's name, not food. I don't recall seeing an otter back in Tartarus. I suppose for something tiny and wearing a vest, it's kind of cute.

Chowder keeps eyeing me, as though he's sizing me up.

"Nice to meet you, little guy."

She sets him on the floor, and he makes a small hissing sound in my direction. I raise an eyebrow, impressed by his bravery.

"Feisty little thing, isn't he?" I say, stepping closer.

"He's just protective of me after I saved him from a lab doing experiments on him," she retorts. "He doesn't trust easily."

"Neither do I," I admit, my gaze locking on to hers.

There's a moment of silence, my attention remaining on Sasha, at the way she stands, hands stuffed in her pockets, smiling down at the otter, to how she nibbles on the edge of her lower lip. There's something captivating about her mannerisms, the way she tucks her blue-green hair behind her ear. The girl is spectacular, a beauty I can't get enough of.

Already, my feral side, my beast, is pushing me to claim her as ours, wanting to claw to the surface to destroy anyone who upsets her. It's admirable how quickly he's taken to her when, most of the time, he wants to destroy anyone new we meet.

"So, what's the plan?" she asks, breaking the silence. "Are you going to just stare at me?"

"Sounds good to me, though I'd like some food. My gut's grumbling." I reach down to pat Chowder, but he shrinks away from my touch.

"Don't touch his head. He doesn't like it, especially from strangers," Sasha says, watching me closely. "Let him approach you first. And I'm not a restaurant."

Fair enough.

Chowder tilts his head, his whiskers twitching, saying, "Hello again."

I blink, genuinely surprised. "All right, now I'm impressed by this otter. He talks."

"Chowder, what do you mean by again ?" She stares at the otter, then glares up at me. "He must have seen you drop off Belu in front of our door."

I shrug, chuckling. "I guess."

Crouching next to Chowder, she strokes the fur around his neck. "They did something to him during the experiments. That's why he speaks, among other things."

"Who the fuck would do that?" I ask, frowning, my hackles raised. I will kill anyone for looking at me wrong, but hurting animals, that's a line I won't ever cross.

"A jerk I was meant to catch for my last job," she explains, her voice tinged with frustration. "Bastard got away, but I saved Chowder and kept him because he deserved the best life."

I admire her for her caring nature, something I'm not necessarily used to.

"So, are we going to talk about what happened back at the station? What did they accuse you of?"

"Does it matter?" she says, her tone weary. She goes to sit on the curved couch in the corner, tucking her legs under as she makes herself comfortable.

"It matters," I state, strolling after her, eyeing the seated cushion right next to her. "If you're in danger, then I'm going to fix it."

She half laughs, even though she furrows her brow. "This isn't something you can fix. Trust me."

I go to sit, but Chowder leaps up just before I do, pressing himself against her hip and stretching out his body across the cushion, taking my spot, glaring at me with narrowing eyes.

You little shit .

So, I sit a bit farther away but still close enough to squish him in his location.

"Tell me more," I insist, curious. Lounging back, I drape an arm across the back of the couch just as Chowder's back leg kicks my thigh, as if he needs more space. I chuckle, gazing down at this tiny otter with the personality of a damn kraken.

Sasha's face hardens, and her attention shifts to the floor.

"They think I killed seven men on a ship that crashed in the docks recently," she says quietly. "But it wasn't me. It was my mother, who, long ago, turned into a siren. So, you see, there's nothing to really address. Mistaken identity, that's all." Her voice cracks, her posture curling slightly forward.

Her words hit me hard, remembering when I lost my mom, murdered along with my father by a gang he'd crossed. Exhaling deeply, I push the past aside, leaving it as that.

"She's a siren, then?" Everyone knows once a mermaid has enough drownings under her belt, the darkness inside them manifests and changes them permanently into a siren.

"Happened when I was a child." Her eyes glisten, but she quickly wipes them and puts on a forced grin.

I reach over to catch the tear rushing down her cheek, suddenly feeling the hard slam of Chowder, jamming those little feet into my side, hissing. I almost adore the otter for his tenacity.

She doesn't pull away when I wipe the tear.

"Family is so fucking complicated," I add. "They give us life, but then go and fuck us up."

Twisting my way, she glances at me with those expressive pale blue eyes. Up close, I notice the golden-green flecks in her irises.

"You can say that again. I lost my parents when I was young and feel like I've been looking out for myself ever since. I just never expected my mom to transform, or in the way she did. It still affects me so long after."

Her voice shakes, and she falls silent, the weight of her words hanging between us. A physical ache spreads through my chest, matching the pain in her eyes.

My hand is on her thigh, even if Chowder is nudging it with his body.

"I lost mine when I was younger, too," I confess, a roughness tracing my voice. I hate talking about the past, about them, but for Sasha, I will. "My father was always doing deals, always involving himself with the wrong people. So, to know that his decisions lost both his and my mom's lives…"

She looks me in the eyes, a softness behind hers. "It's like they leave us with their messes to clean up."

I nod, remembering the shit fight I faced when the gang came after me for my father's payment, for blood. I shake those memories away. I did what I had to in order to survive. It gained me a reputation for making many afraid of me, but in a place like Tartarus, that's a godsend.

She places her hand on top of mine, and for a moment, we're two broken souls, realizing we're not that alone.

"Thanks for being here for me," she murmurs. And aside from Chowder, who hasn't ceased his nudging, the cabin falls silent.

"How about I head out and bring us food from one of the nearby shops?" I offer, lightening the heavy mood.

Shaking her head, she gets up and straightens her posture.

"Look, it's best if you go. I need… just some time alone to process everything."

I study her, every inch of me dying to lean in and hug her, to chase away her worries. My gaze lowers to her luscious lips, and I can't forget our kiss, how she tasted like the sweetest honey, how I'm craving to discover if the rest of her tastes as delicious. I'm not sure how much longer I can be a patient man, especially if my beast has any say in it.

But her quiet worries me that there's more she's not telling me.

"Are you in any kind of danger? Call me paranoid, but I always expect the worst."

A half grin pulls her lips up. "The only danger is me dealing with memories I buried long ago, along with my mother I thought I had known. I told myself she was dead so I could move on…" She literally shakes herself.

I stroke her arm, stepping closer to take her into my arms, but she moves away. It leaves me with a stabbing ache in my gut.

"Really appreciate your help," she states.

It's frustrating as hell to have her push me away. My fated mate. Nope, this isn't going to do.

The creak of the door suddenly sounds, and I turn to find Chowder pulling it open, eyeing me with daggers.

"How fast can he leave?" he says in his chirpy voice.

"All right." I admit defeat, but worry seeps through me that my fated mate shouldn't be grieving on her own. That ache burrows through me. It strangles me. But I'm going to rectify this once and for all.

"I'll be seeing you real soon, Sasha." I stroll out of the cabin, Chowder seeming to almost smile at seeing me go.

I chuckle to myself because they have no idea how much more of me they're going to be seeing real soon.