Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

WILLOW

T he next morning, Willow found herself drawn to the beach. She slipped out of bed, leaving Cage alone. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a soft golden light over the waves. She wandered down the steep, meandering path down the cliff, through the tall grasses of the dunes and onto the pristine sand. The cool morning breeze brushed against her skin, making it come alive in a way it never had before. The sea stretched out before her, vast and endless, a perfect metaphor for the new life awaiting her.

She knelt in the sand; the grains cool and damp beneath her knees. Staring out at the horizon, she whispered almost to herself, "I'm free. It's all over."

The words felt surreal, like they belonged to someone else. For so long, freedom had been an elusive dream, something she dared not hope for. Now, it was her reality. She could leave, resume a normal life, whatever that might be. But the path ahead was uncertain, and she couldn't ignore the scars that had been left behind.

A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see Cage standing beside her—naked as the day he'd been born. His presence was a steady comfort, a reminder of the strength she had found in herself and the support he had provided. He sat down next to her, silent for a moment, sharing the peace of the morning.

He echoed her words softly, "You're free."

Willow turned to look at him, her eyes searching his. She saw understanding and shared relief. They had both been through so much, and now, on the other side, they faced a future that was uncertain but theirs to shape.

She nodded, feeling a mixture of hope and trepidation. "What do I do now?"

Cage reached out, taking her hand in his. "Whatever you want. Your life is yours to live. No more running, no more hiding."

A tear slipped down Willow's cheek, but it was a tear of release, not sorrow. "I don't know where to start," she admitted.

"You're a bright girl; I'm sure you'll figure something out," he said gruffly.

The words hung in the air, confusing and cutting. Did he want her? Or did he want her gone? On shaky legs, Willow stood, trying to steady herself against the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She took a deep breath, her voice barely steady as she spoke. "You're right I am. Neither you nor Interpol need me anymore, so I guess I can be on my way. I'll be ready to go within the hour."

She thought she saw the lines around Cage's mouth tighten, but that was the only response he gave other than a clipped nod. He turned and walked away, his bare buttocks flexing with each step. She narrowed her gaze, feeling a mix of anger and incredulity. Who's being the exhibitionist now?

Cage's step faltered, and she wondered if she'd said it out loud. No, she was certain she hadn't, but his reaction suggested otherwise. She shook her head, trying to clear the confusion, and began to walk towards the castle, her room, her supposed sanctuary.

Her brain was full of things she wanted to shout at him, words that would cut and sting just like his had done to her. But she knew it wouldn't do any good. Cage was good at ignoring her, at pretending her words didn't matter. She clenched her fists, the frustration bubbling inside her.

She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of shouting, but inside her head, she raged against his stubborn nobility. Stupid, sexy bear. More booty than brains, or he would know I don't want to be free. What happened to the man who fucked me whenever, however, and wherever he chose? Willow wanted him back, the man who made her feel alive and desired.

As she reached her room, she slammed the door behind her, leaning against it for support. Her legs finally gave out, and she slid to the floor, her head in her hands. The tears came then, hot and bitter, a mix of anger and sadness. She didn't want to be free; she wanted to be with Cage. But his actions, his words, seemed to push her away at every turn.

She wiped her tears angrily, refusing to let them fall any longer. If Cage wanted her gone, she would go. But she wouldn't do it quietly. She would pack her things and leave, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of thinking she was running away. No, she would walk out with her head held high, her pride intact. The last time she'd left a man who hadn't wanted her, she'd skulked away. Not this time. Not this fucking time.

With renewed determination, Willow stood and began to gather her belongings. Each item she packed felt like a piece of her heart being torn away, but she pushed through the pain. She wouldn't let Cage see how much he had hurt her. She wouldn't let him win.

As she packed, her mind kept replaying the last few days, trying to make sense of his behavior. He had been distant, cold even, as if he were trying to push her away. But she had seen the way he looked at her, the way his eyes softened when he thought she wasn't looking. There was more to this, she was sure of it. But she didn't have the energy to figure it out, not now.

An hour later, her bags were mostly packed, and she stood at the door, taking one last look around the room that had been her refuge. With a deep breath, she sat on the edge of the bed, gathering herself. She was determined not to look back, not to cry, not to let him see he had broken her heart. She would find her own way, with or without Cage. But the hurt lingered, a constant reminder of what she was leaving behind.

Willow couldn't sit still. She paced around her room, finding things she had missed the first time through, tossing the remaining articles of clothing into her suitcase with an intensity that mirrored her frustration. Cage could act like he didn't have a clue, but she knew better. He was probably storing it all up to act on later. She was still seething, replaying every argument, every unspoken word, in her mind. He's such a stubborn, noble idiot. Stupid, sexy bear. Why can't he just be honest with me?

She barely registered the sound of the door opening. When she looked up, Cage was standing there, leaning casually against the bedpost, his eyes locked onto her. His calm demeanor only fueled her anger further. She glared at him, her hands pausing mid-throw.

"Well?" she demanded, her voice dripping with sarcasm and defiance.

Instead of responding with words, Cage walked over and, with a swift motion, flipped the suitcase upside down, spilling its contents all over the floor. Willow gasped, a mix of shock and anger flaring inside her. She shoved at him, her hands connecting with his solid chest.

"What the fuck, Cage?" she yelled, her voice trembling with a mixture of rage and confusion.

For a moment, he just stared at her, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her heart race. Then, without moving his lips, she heard his voice in her mind, clear and resonant. ‘Did you mean it?'

Willow's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. "Mean what?" she stammered, her mind struggling to process the fact that she was hearing him inside her head. It took a moment for the reality to sink in.

Cage remained silent, his gaze unwavering. She felt a strange sensation, a kind of mental tug, as if something were connecting them, something she hadn't been aware of before.

"Something else you forgot to tell me?" she accused.

He grinned. ‘The bonding link. It is a kind of telepathic tether between fated mates.'

"Stop that," she snarled. "I don't care what it's called, it's creepy. And what the hell is a fated mate?"

"You are my fated mate as I am yours. It is a bond that the fates decreed from the beginning of time."

Willow snorted. "There is no such thing."

Cage walked over, pulled her into his arms. "And bear-shifters are a fairytale."

"That's different."

"You keep telling yourself that, babe."

She wanted to punch him, wanted to rail at him, but her initial shock gave way to a rush of emotions, a torrent of thoughts and feelings that had been building up inside her. Through the tether, she felt Cage's own emotions as clearly as she felt her own: frustration, regret, but also a deep, unyielding and enduring love.

‘You're an idiot,' she thought fiercely, knowing he could hear her. ‘You push me away, act like you don't care, and then pull stunts like this. What do you want from me? I may be a bear-shifter, but I'm not a mind-reader.'

‘I want you to be safe,' his mental voice replied, tinged with desperation. ‘I've always wanted to protect you. But you don't understand how dangerous this world is. How dangerous I am.'

‘Hot news flash asshole, I'm dangerous too. You do remember that my ex is dead because me and my she-bear killed the bastard.' Willow felt tears prick at her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. ‘You think I'm afraid of you?' she shot back. ‘I'm afraid of losing you. Of not being enough to keep you from pushing me away. I love you, you stupid sonofabitch.'

Cage's expression softened, and she felt a wave of regret and tenderness wash over her. ‘I thought keeping my distance would keep you safe. I was wrong. I see that now. I love you too. This connection between us, this bond... it means we're more than just lovers. We're bonded in a way that can't be broken.'

Willow's anger began to ebb, replaced by a deep sense of understanding. She had felt the pull between them, the inexplicable connection, but she hadn't understood its significance until now. ‘Then stop treating me like I'm fragile. Stop pushing me away. I'm stronger than you think.'

Cage moved closer, his hand gently cupping her cheek. ‘I know you are. And I'm sorry. For everything. Don't leave me, Willow.'

Willow placed her hand over his, feeling the warmth and strength of his touch. She could sense his sincerity, the depth of his feelings for her. ‘We're in this together, Cage. Whether you like it or not. So, stop trying to protect me by pushing me away. We fight together, or not at all.'

Cage nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. ‘Agreed.'

For the first time in what felt like ages, Willow felt a sense of peace settle over her. They had a long road ahead, filled with dangers and uncertainties, but they would face it together. Their bond, the tether that connected them, was unbreakable. And with that realization came a renewed strength and determination.

As they stood amidst the chaos of her room, surrounded by scattered clothes and emotions laid bare, Willow knew they had turned a corner. They had found a way to communicate, to truly understand each other. And that, more than anything, gave her hope for the future.

‘You made this mess, you can clean it up.' She indicated her things strewn all over the floor.

Cage chuckled. "I thought we were in this together..."

"You're such a pain in the ass," she said.

"I am, but only in the best way possible."

She launched herself at him, throwing her arms around him, and tipping him onto the bed. She began tearing at his clothes.

"I thought you wanted to clean up the mess.:

"I do, but later. Much, much later," she purred.

The corners of his mouth curled up as he pushed her sundress out of the way and shoved up inside her. "Much, much later," he repeated as his mouth claimed hers and he began to show her just how much later it would be.