Page 58 of Protected By Artemis

The pack member, a young man named Finn, shifted nervously on his feet as he entered. “Alpha, about the barn demolition…we need to decide if we’re going to recycle the wood or?—”

“I shouldn’t have to think about this!” Cade snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache that was already building. “Just handle it.”

Finn jumped at the harsh tone, eyes wide with surprise. “O-okay, Alpha. I’ll figure it out,” he stammered, stepping back quickly.

He glared at the retreating man, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He watched as Finn hurried out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him. The sound seemed to echo in the silence that followed.

As the anger ebbed, guilt began to creep in. He knew he was out of line. Finn didn’t deserve to be the target of his stress, but the weight of everything was getting to him. He just couldn’t deal with every little detail right now.

The pack member’s simple question had triggered an unexpected surge of frustration, and now he was left with the aftermath of his sharp words. He clenched his jaw, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, and turned to the window again. That outburst was more about his own stress than the question itself. But right now, he didn’t care. He just wanted some space, some quiet.

The familiar scene only reminded him of the weight of his responsibilities, of the expectations that felt like they were crushing him. He’d always prided himself on being a strong leader who could handle anything thrown his way. But now, with everything piling up—the fire, the investigation, the pressure to keep his pack safe—he could feel himself fraying at the edges.

A couple of kids noticed him and ran over to wave at him. He sucked in a breath before nodding back at them. They smiled and got back to their roughhousing, their laughter and chatter adistant hum in his ears. The sight should have comforted him, but instead, a pang of hurt laced his chest.

The memory of the look on her face when he ended things haunted him. The hurt in her eyes was something he couldn’t shake, a raw, vulnerable moment that felt like it had carved itself into his very soul.

He tried to push the thoughts away, but they clung to him, persistent and unrelenting. He could almost see her standing there, her heart breaking in front of him, and he wished more than anything that he could turn back time. He wanted to unsee that look, to undo the words that had shattered whatever they had between them.

Why did he freak out about seeing his eyes glow when he thought of her? It was a good thing that his wolf liked her. It meant they were in sync and that she was right for him in a way he couldn’t deny. He should have embraced it, but instead, he’d let fear take over.

It was a good thing, he kept telling himself as if trying to convince the part of him that had panicked.

The truth was, he liked her. More than liked her. She was everything he admired—strong, loyal, and unyielding in her convictions. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it, cutting through life with a confidence that left him in awe. And after all the centuries she’d lived, she decided she wanted him. She wanted to be with him, and he had thrown that away because his wolf had confirmed what he already knew.

He closed his eyes, the image of her heartbreak still vivid in his mind. He’d messed up and pushed her away when he should have pulled her closer. The thought of her choosing him, out of all the possibilities in her endless life, was overwhelming.

He knew he needed to make things right, to find a way to show her that he wasn’t afraid anymore.

Cade stared at his phone, the screen glowing back at him in the dim light of his office—still nothing. No reply. He had lost count of how many times he had tried to call or text her in the past month—each message more desperate than the last. But her only response had been silence.

His thumb hovered over the screen, scrolling through the string of texts he had sent, each one more heartbreaking to reread than the last.

“I’m sorry.”

“Please, Artemis, talk to me.”

“I messed up. Can we fix this?”

“I’m going crazy. Why won’t you answer me?”

His latest message, sent just an hour ago, remained unread. His frustration boiled over, and he slammed his phone on the desk, pushing away from the chair with a frustrated growl. He paced back and forth, the weight of her absence like a boulder pressing down on his chest.

How many times had he relived that moment? Her confused expression when he pulled away, the pain in her eyes when he uttered those words. He thought he was doing what was best for both of them. But all he had done was destroy the one good thing in his life.

And now she was gone, completely iced him out.

He ran his hands through his hair, his chest heaving with anger and regret. Why had he let his fear control him? Why hadn’t he told her the truth about how he felt, instead of pushing her away?

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, kicking the chair aside.

His wolf was restless, pacing inside of him, snarling at the distance between them. It wasn’t like he could go to her since she was in fucking Olympus. Cade couldn’t stand it anymore. The silence. The emptiness. He needed her.

He grabbed his phone again, heart pounding, and typed another message. “Please, Artemis. Just talk to me. One chance, that’s all I’m asking.”

He hit send and threw the phone onto the desk, knowing deep down it wouldn’t make a difference. She was gone, and there was nothing he could do to change that.

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