15. Sasha

Chapter 15

Sasha

B ack in Kaden's bedroom, I'm breathless, trying to make sense of what just happened downstairs. My attraction to Kaden is mind-blowing; that's clear. Even now, I'm tingling all over, unable to believe how quickly things have escalated between us. Not that I regret a single scorching hot moment. Well, putting aside the whole "controlling me" aspect, trying to breed me, and then cleaning my pussy in the water with his hand without being asked to do it.

What the hell!

The thing is, I'm not even that upset about it… more shocked. The guy has zero concept of personal space. Maybe moving in with him was too fast, giving him the impression he can do whatever he wants.

On top of all that, my mind is stuck on seeing Kaden shift into his kraken form. The sheer size of him, even though I knew it still wasn't his full form, left me trembling. The guy's terrifying. I ended up standing in the doorway long after he dove into the icy waters of the fjord, trembling at the reality of who my fated mate is. The image of those massive tentacles unfurling, his body expanding, the raw power in every movement… it's something I can't easily shake off. My skin prickles from fear, from being awestruck.

In my room, I find Chowder sleeping in the bed, stretched out like he owns the place. With the towel I grabbed from the bathroom on the way, I dry myself quickly and get changed into leggings and a hooded crop top. Deciding to return to my cabin in the middle of the night feels like the right thing to do. Sure, Kaden is my fated mate, but this is too fast for me.

Luckily, my belongings from my place only just got here, and they're still packed. Makes for an easy getaway.

A light chirp sounds behind me, and I twist to see Chowder on the edge of the bed, standing on his hind legs. "Who is upset?"

I go to him and throw my arms around him. "We don't belong here. We need to go back to our home."

He pulls out of my embrace. "No."

I sigh, seeing him shaking his head. "You like it here? But he's overbearing."

Chowder stares at me, that tiny nose of his twitching, and I realize he may not understand what overbearing means.

"He's just?—"

"Good to you. Good to us," he completes my sentence.

"Is he?" I sit on the bed, my heart racing.

Chowder scrambles onto my lap, lying there, and glances up with those soulful eyes that make me smile.

"You're confusing, you know that?" I say, scratching behind his ears. "One minute, you're all grumpy at him, and the next, you're defending him."

Chowder groans in response, making me laugh despite myself.

"So, you think he's good for me, huh?"

He nudges his head against my hand, his way of saying yes.

I take in the room that's both luxurious and suffocating.

"It's just… I don't know if I'm ready for all this."

Chowder, tilting his head, says, "What will we do?"

"I don't know," I admit, leaning back on the bed. "Part of me wants to stay, to see where this goes, but the other part… I feel like I'm losing myself. It worries me."

He snuggles closer to my side, offering his support.

"Why does everything have to be so hard?" I mutter, running a hand through his fur. "I don't know. Maybe it's better we leave? So, little buddy, I should get our stuff ready to go."

Chowder's head pops up, staring at me with almost disappointment on his face.

"How can we leave? When he brings back your scales."

I blink at him, pushing up to a sitting position.

"Wait, what are you saying?" My mind charges back to the two scales from my tail I found on my bedside table. And Chowder is telling me Kaden was responsible?

"Did you see him bring them back?" I ask softly.

"He sneaks past me. But he scratches me, and I'm a good boy," Chowder says, almost smiling. "So, Kae'en is good man."

I grin at his mispronunciation of Kaden's name, but I'm sitting here torn into dozens of pieces. Getting up, I go to my bag and pull out the scales, still in their container. I can't part with them, and I stare at them. Kaden did that for me? Something so deeply personal when he barely knew me.

Chowder nuzzles against my hand while he remains on the bed. "Stay here?" he says. "Kae'en is good."

I exhale loudly, stroking his soft fur. "I don't know. Maybe?" Flopping back onto the bed, I feel the weight of everything. "Here, I thought you hated him."

Chowder scrambles onto my chest, staring down at me, a world of emotions behind those tiny eyes, and I can see exactly what he wants.

For us to stay here.

I laugh softly. "All I can promise is that we won't leave tonight, okay?" I'm torn in two directions, figuring I'll sleep on it.

Chowder gives a chirping sound, hops off me, and goes to curl up on one of the pillows.

I glance at the scales one more time before tucking them into the bag.

Kaden keeps surprising me, and I can't tell if that's a good thing or a disaster waiting to happen. Either way, I feel as though things are going to get very interesting.

I curl up next to Chowder, stroking him, and close my eyes, thinking that Kaden did something for me and never bragged about it or even told me. There's something almost humbling about that.

I must have crashed because it's already morning. I stroll out of the bedroom after realizing Chowder is not next to me. Hearing laughter through the house is what initially woke me up, and I'm curious about what's going on.

I stagger into the kitchen, where I find the two men in my life. Chowder eating a full, raw trout off a plate at the table, standing on a chair. Kaden sits across from him, devouring his meal. The table's flowing with food—meats, bread, eggs, pancakes, fruit, fish. Everything I can think of is available. My stomach growls in response. In all honesty, I can't recall the last time I ate. I'm starving and take a seat at the round table.

"How'd you sleep?" Kaden asks with a devious lift at the corners of his lips.

"Stirred all night," I answer with a lie, refusing to let him know he affected me so much.

"Not true," Chowder pipes in. "You snore heavy. Sleep like log."

Kaden laughs while my cheeks are burning. I never thought I'd have them both against me.

"And you?" I break the attention from myself.

"Best night's sleep in years. I needed it last night." His eyes never leave me as he takes a bite of his bread smothered in jam.

Is he referring to the sleep or our fucking session? Most definitely the latter, leaving me breathing quicker, unable to forget the most incredible orgasm I've ever experienced.

"So, I hear good news that there's no plan for you and my buddy here to be leaving the mansion," Kaden murmurs, leaning back in his chair, the streak of sunlight pouring in from the window lighting up those dark blue eyes. A light stubble covers his jawline, his dark hair messy around that ridiculously gorgeous face, and that white tee he's wearing pulls taut across his pecs, his muscles unmatched.

I shift my gaze to Chowder, who doesn't even notice but is devouring his fish, making a mess of his whiskers.

"Is he a spy for you now?" I murmur in Kaden's direction. I serve myself a couple of fried eggs on thick pieces of toast. Most mornings, I grab fruit on the way out the door.

"Believe it or not, guys do talk about their feelings," Kaden responds, a smirk playing on his lips. "Chowder was very vocal about wanting to stay here."

"I gives otter of approval," Chowder blurts out, staring at us.

"Do you mean seal of approval?" I ask.

He's shaking his head. "I say correct. Who likes seals?"

I burst out laughing, unable to help myself.

"Okay, you got me there," I say. He's been hanging out with me too long and picked up on my sass.

Kaden watches us intently. "See? It's like a family breakfast already."

I roll my eyes but can't help the warmth spreading through me. Despite everything, despite my reservations, there's something undeniably comforting about this moment.

"You're pushing it," I say.

"Even Chowder sees it." His grin almost reaches up to his eyes, enjoying himself way too much.

I swallow hard, trying to ignore the fluttering in my chest. "We'll see," I say, focusing on my food. Deep down, I know he's right. This place, him, it all feels inexplicably right. And that scares me more than I'd like to admit.

I take a bite, savoring my meal as Kaden pours me some juice. He seems to be enjoying the domestic routine far too much.

"So, I've heard some things, too. Like you returning my scales without telling me."

He tilts his head slightly, but that strong expression remains fixed on his face.

"I would never stand back and watch someone hurt you or take anything from you. I've told you this."

"Yes, but why didn't you tell me you retrieved them for me?"

"Sasha, I don't seek approval or praise."

"Who said I'd praise you?" I affirm instantly, my voice snappier than intended. He brings out many things in me, including that challenge to always best him.

"I see it in your eyes. And you're welcome." His feet reach mine under the table, and I draw them away.

I chew on that for a moment, realizing what he did was before he knew we were fated mates, yet he still looked out for me.

"Well, thanks. I appreciate it. Hopefully, that doesn't bring down the wrath of Asbesta on your doorstep because of me." The thought alone tightens my middle.

Kaden smacks his lips, swallows, and reclines in his chair.

"She would never harm you. Trust me. As my fated mate, she will do well to keep as far from you as possible, and she will know this."

"Why? Because you agreed to join her House?"

"Nothing's set in stone," he explains. "But sometimes, it's easier to appease someone until you work out your next move."

"So, you're not planning on moving?"

"Unless you intend to relocate with me, I'm staying by your side." He's wearing that stalker grin again.

Chowder, finishing his fish, looks between us. "Are we moving house, all three?"

"No," I say firmly.

Chowder gives me a pout.

"If that's what we need to do," Kaden answers, his tone equally resolute.

"You can't just make decisions for all of us." I glare at him, irritation bubbling below the surface along with something warmer.

"I'm not," he replies calmly. "I'm offering a solution. Your safety is my priority."

"Me, too," Chowder chirps in, his eyes wide and innocent.

Feeling outnumbered and slightly overwhelmed, I murmur, "I don't even know how to process all of this."

Kaden leans forward, his gaze intense but softer than before. "Embrace it, little mermaid."

"We family now?" Chowder suddenly blurts out.

"No," I say at the exact same moment that Kaden says, "Yes."

Chowder shakes his head. "Confusing."

I can't help but laugh.

"We're… figuring it out," Kaden adds.

I park the car at the side of the busy port, the hustle and bustle of the docks in clear view at the bottom of the street. Reaching over for my backpack on the passenger seat, I prepare to grab just the essentials, but my hand lands on something unexpectedly fluffy. I flinch, my heart skipping a beat, only to glance over and find Chowder popping his head out of my bag, his eyes bright and inquisitive.

"Hello," he chirps.

"You little sneak," I murmur. "When did you get into my bag?"

He makes a low grunting sound, which I've learned is his attempt at laughing, replicating the sound I make.

I giggle, ruffling his fur. I'd been in such a rush this morning that I didn't even think anything about my bag feeling slightly heavier than normal. I blame Kaden and his words from breakfast distracting me.

"I can't exactly leave you alone in the car. Looks like you're coming with me." A part of me really hopes this won't require any chasing down the bad guy. After all, it's just a checkup on my new target.

Chowder's chirping now, chin high, his little paws grasping the top of my bag. "I ready to work," he tells me.

"Well, let's see how we go today, all right?" He nods, and I grab my bag with him sinking inside. "You just need to remain low, okay?" Once I'm out of the car, I slide the bag onto my shoulder and make my way down to the docks.

The sun shines brightly this morning, the salty sea breeze whipping through my hair.

Today's job is easy—collect the whereabouts of a twenty-year-old guy due to check in in a day's time because he's a high flight risk. The idiot got busted smuggling stolen jewels from the House of Air and Amethyst, thinking he could hide out in the House of Gold and Garnet, living off his treasure. So, we're tracking him to ensure he doesn't skip town.

He was last seen working down by the docks.

The place is bustling, merchants dragging in fish, other workers milling about. From my understanding, those who go out on the boats are from House of Sea and Serpentine and usually drop off catches on the wharf for locals, and those running the docks are meant to ensure no one enters the House of Gold and Garnet if they don't belong here. How well that's policed is something else unless, of course, mercenaries get wind of those illegal entries and go hunting for them.

My target works on the docks, so I'm hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Pulling down my cap over my eyes, I dressed casually in jeans and a hoodie, blending in easily.

I spot a bunch of men chatting near the edge of a jetty, the sound of their voices growing clearer the closer I get. I'm hoping my target is nearby as there are workers coming and going from that ship, unloading cargo. Fishing boats bob in the water nearby. Seagulls squawk overhead, and the air is thick with the smell of the fish—lovely, just what I wanted to start my day.

Walking past buckets of cod and hake flopping about, I can't help but feel a bit of a pang. I mean, people eat fish—fine, I get it—but seeing them like this, gasping for air, tugs at something in me.

I sense Chowder flipping around in my bag, which I assume is in response to the strong fish smell. Hopefully, he has some self-control, considering the huge meal he had for breakfast.

Passing two fishermen, their conversation catches my attention. My heart skips a beat, pausing by a stack of fish, pretending to be interested in them.

"All crew dead as doornails. Third one in town in as many weeks," one of them says, his voice gruff, pausing me in my steps.

"Aye, I heard. Rumors sayin' it's them sirens turnin' deadly. Anyone on the water ain't safe no more," another adds, shaking his head, his beard bobbing with the movement.

Sirens? Three attacks? My mind flashes back to the mistaken identity involving my mom, who eliminated seven men recently. Could it be her? Or is this something else entirely?

"Somethin's changed in the waters," the other agrees. "Heard a while ago of this happening farther north in the country."

I feel a chill run over my skin. This isn't normal siren behavior at all. As the men wander off, I travel down another busy dock, eyes scanning for my target while my mind's hooked on the news I'd just heard.

Sirens don't massacre groups of sailors like this. Maybe one here and there… So why are they acting this way?

How is my mom involved? I tell myself she's no longer my mom, that she most likely won't remember me, yet my chest tightens at the memory of the photo the authorities showed me of her killing those men.

The need to discover the truth billows inside me.

As I walk faster, hands in the pockets of my jeans, my gaze lands on a new ship recently docked. A group of men emerge, making their way down the wooden ramp, and behind them, an older woman follows. Blonde hair pulled back in a no-nonsense bun, a beauty spot above her lip, and she's dressed in gum boots and jeans. She's managing to look both stern and completely at home on the dock.

I stride over, putting on my most approachable smile.

"Hi there," I start, hoping my cheerful tone will melt her ice-cold demeanor. "I'm doing a piece for a local journalist company about the fishing industry. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

She gives me a once-over, her eyes narrowing suspiciously, but her stare lingers on my face a bit too long, leaving me uncomfortable.

"Why do you want to know?" Her voice is as gruff as her expression.

"I'm trying to understand more about the local industry and some of the challenges you all face out here," I lie, keeping my tone light and professional. "You know, for the readers."

She crosses her arms, still scrutinizing me. "You don't look like any journalist I've ever seen. What paper did you say you're with?"

"Uh, the Fjord Times," I reply, hoping it sounds credible enough. "We're doing a special series on the impact of recent events on the local fisheries. Along with a rumor spreading that…" I glance around me to see if anyone is nearby, mostly for effect. "There's a siren attacking sailors, killing them."

In the meantime, Chowder's rummaging about in my backpack, and suddenly, his head pops up, making a tiny chirp as though he's coming up for air. Being super dramatic.

The woman's attention flips to the bag over my shoulder, her eyes landing on Chowder.

"Cute otter," she mutters, feigning more interest in him than answering my questions.

"Yeah, he's my partner in crime for the day," I joke, trying to keep the conversation light, not wanting Chowder to start talking and draw more attention to himself, considering his background. "Okay, Chowder, back to your nap." I reach over, nudging him back inside, which he does, thankfully.

When she glances at me again, her eyes narrow, and she stares at me longer than feels comfortable. There's a flicker of recognition—or maybe suspicion—crossing her face, making me uneasy.

"Look, I'd caution you against following rumors from sailors. Best you don't get involved where you don't belong," she states, her tone heavy with implication. "Some things are better left uncovered."

Not waiting for me to respond, she turns on her heel and marches away, leaving me blinking after her, my radar going off the charts. That woman knows something.

As I watch her stride away, I turn my attention to the ship where the men she was with are carrying closed boxes off the ship, taking them straight to the back of a van. They're not selling their catch at the small market by the shore like others.

I stroll over to another dock, my mind racing about her standoffish behavior. Of course, it could be that she hates journalists sticking their noses in her business. Most people despise them.

As I approach, I catch sight of my target in the distance, a wiry guy with a perpetual scowl etched on his face unloading boxes off a boat. I slide behind a group of men, trying to blend in. The last thing I need is for him to suspect I'm here checking on him and bail.

The older woman's warning echoes in my mind. Something feels off about the whole thing, and I decide I need to dive into some research. In particular on the north shore of Norway.

For the second half of the day, I take Chowder back home and return to the office. I bury myself in admin work, catching up on training modules and trying to distract my wandering thoughts. The morning keeps replaying in my mind—the deaths, the sirens, my mother.

Tomorrow's the weekend, and seeing as I'm not working, I have plans to start investigating what's really going on. As much as I tell myself it's not my business, not to get involved, I can't walk away when it might explain why my mother turned on my father, why she killed him out of the blue.

On the drive home, my mind miles away, I find myself parked in front of my cabin. My brain went on autopilot as I drove here without even realizing it.

I sit there, staring out at the small wooden home, nostalgia lingering inside me. It appears empty, as though no one has moved in yet. Knowing I still have the key in my bag, I get out of the car to check for any of my belongings missing. Plus, something about it makes me miss living out here, where it's nothing but peaceful.

I stroll up to the front door quickly, key in hand, and let myself in. The cabin's exactly as I left it—well, except for all my belongings, which are gone. The furnishings were already here when I moved in, but it feels strange staring at a hollow place I once called home. My gut churns at the thought of being moved out without a say.

Deciding to do a final check, in case anything of mine was left behind, I do my rounds. Fifteen minutes later and a small bag of items—a couple of books, a forgotten hairbrush, and a stray sock—are all I find. With a sigh, I lock the door and head back to my car. The drive back to Kaden's mansion takes me through the city and into the woods near the fjord. The sun is beginning to set, casting long shadows that add to the eerie ambiance.

Once at the mansion, in the run-down, foreboding yard that screams dilapidated house, a single light illuminates its creepy appearance. With my key, I enter a mansion that feels like a fantasy. The hallway upstairs is lined with paintings of ships battling stormy seas, each one more dramatic than the last. As I reach the stairs to go down into the main living area, a loud knock echoes through the hallway.

I freeze, a spike of fear running down my spine. Did someone follow me?

Slowly, I turn and walk back to the door, my heart pounding in my chest. The knock comes again, more insistent this time. I take a deep breath and grip the doorknob, my hand trembling slightly. I pull the door open a crack.

"Who's there?" I ask, my voice soft.

A man stands on the doorstep, his face partially hidden in the shadows. "Delivery," he states, holding a large, flat, square cardboard box. There's nothing printed on it, but instantly, I'm hit with the most delightfully delicious aroma of food I've never tasted before. "For Kaden."

"A delivery?"

The man shrugs. "I just deliver the packages, ma'am. Are you Kaden or not? Otherwise, I need to cart it with me all the way back to the car. Why do you live so far away?" His voice dips with his clear frustration.

I nod slowly, opening the door wider to take the package. "Yeah, that's me. Sasha Kaden. Thanks." I'm too curious about what smells so good to let him leave with the package.

"About time." He shoves it over and storms away without another word. I watch him go. There has to be food in this box, and why does anyone deliver food? Wait, what if it's poisonous? I turn back into the house, only to come face-to-face with Kaden standing behind me, glaring outside.

"Please tell me you ordered this, because it smells divine."

He's still staring outside in the direction the delivery guy went. "Sasha, my job is to make you a goddess, treat you as one while I stand behind you like a beast ready to destroy anyone for ever disrespecting you." He steps out through the open door, frowning, shoulders rising.

"What are you talking about?"

"The delivery boy." Kaden faces me, his brows pinched together. "He dared speak to you so disrespectfully. I should rip his tongue out for that."

"The delivery guy? He wasn't really that mean."

"He was," he says firmly, still glowering.

"He's probably having a hard night," I murmur, hoping to calm him down. "If I had to deliver packages to people's homes, I'd be pretty pissed, too."

Kaden shrugs, exhaling loudly, then his gaze falls to the box in my hand. "I wanted to surprise you with a unique human meal called pizza."

"Oh, so they bring food to your home here? I've never seen that," I say, never experiencing it in South Africa. "And pizza smells so good."

He finally smiles my way, locks the door, and then takes the pizza from me. He reaches down and plants a kiss on my lips, surprising me more than what just happened.

"Are you ready to eat, Sasha Kaden?" He smirks at me, winking, and he's probably dying to tell me I'm his again.

"Haha. Anyway, I'm starving." And by the time we're at the kitchen table, the pizza box open between us, I'm starving. Many human-style foods aren't as popular as they once were, not to mention they aren't easily available to purchase.

I follow Kaden's lead and pick up a slice, the cheese stretching.

I'm salivating, even if I've never eaten anything like this before. Kaden watches me as I take my first bite, the savory flavors swirling in my mouth, and with the crust crispy, it leaves me moaning for more.

"Hmm, this is really good," I say, taking another bite. Kaden examines his piece, then takes a big bite. He's nodding in no time.

"Not bad. A bit greasy, but I can get used to this."

Chowder, perched on the table, sniffs at a piece of the crusty edge I offered him. He nibbles on it, then makes a face and pushes it away.

I chuckle. "Someone's not a fan. You're more of a clam guy." He sits there, watching us eat this meal, and in all seriousness, I've never devoured anything so fast.

"So, I did well?" Kaden asks, eyeing me as he grabs another piece.

"Yes, I love these kinds of surprises." The longer we eat, chatting about what toppings the pizza has, I come to realize that this place isn't so bad. It's a far cry from my cold cabin. And as Kaden serves me another piece, showing me sides of him that aren't all rigid or demanding, a sense of belonging I hadn't expected rises through me.

I try not to think too much of it, but what if this is where I'm meant to be?

When I was young, my parents always told me fate would guide me in life. After losing them, I stopped believing in such things, thinking it was a comforting lie. Now, sitting here with Kaden and Chowder, I can't help but wonder if everything has happened for a reason.