Page 70 of A Wolf of War
He stepped inside quietly, every movement controlled. His boots were silent as he set them aside, his hands deliberate as he shrugged out of his jacket. Willow’s presence pulled at him like a magnet, drawing him closer until he stood beside the bed, looking down at her.
Her lips were parted slightly, lashes brushing her cheeks. She looked peaceful, unguarded in a way she never was awake. He could almost imagine this was normal. That she was his fully bonded mate, asleep after waiting up for him, the bed warm from her body as heslid in beside her.
Milo dragged a hand down his face, exhaling slowly. The beast inside him stirred at the thought, whispering, “Mate.” His mate.
Careful, he sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. One of the kittens stirred, stretching before tucking itself back against Willow’s legs. She shifted, just barely, her hand brushing over the empty side of the bed as if searching for him even in sleep.
His throat tightened.
Milo let himself feel it all—the want, the devotion, the bone-deep certainty that she belonged to him. And he promised himself, silently, that one day she’d wake up in this bed and know it too.
33
WILLOW
Willow surfaced slowly from sleep, the warmth of the kittens curled against her legs anchoring her in the cocoon of blankets. She stretched, blinking against the sleep still thick in her eyes—then froze.
Milo was there.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, broad shoulders hunched slightly forward, eyes fixed on her. Watching. Eyes glowing.
Her breath caught. She pushed herself up on her elbows, the sheet sliding down her chest. “How long have you been sitting there?”
“Definitely not long enough to be weird.”
Willow almost laughed. Her heart thudded. She searched his face, trying to read the expression there, but it was too much all at once—concern, exhaustion, that unreadable intensity that always seemed to sharpen when his gaze was on her.
And then, there was the state of his eyes.
“Do your eyes just do that, or are you doing it on purpose?” she asked, brows scrunched.
He raised an eyebrow. “I can make them not do it, but it’s a subconscious reaction.” His hand flexed against his thigh, restless. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She sat up fully, tugging the blanket into her lap. “So you justdecided to watch me sleep instead?”
“Yeah.” The corner of his mouth curved, not quite a smile. “I like seeing you peaceful. You fight me too hard when you’re awake.”
Heat flared in her cheeks. She dropped her eyes to the kittens, who were blinking sleepily up at her as though they, too, were curious about the tension between their humans.
“You make that sound like I’m a constant battle.”
“You are.” His tone softened, but it still held weight. “And I wouldn’t trade it. But seeing you like this…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It makes me think there’s a chance.”
Willow’s throat went dry. She wanted to argue, to remind him that she hadn’t chosen this, that she was still here against her will. But the words tangled with what she felt in the pit of her stomach every time his voice dipped like that.
So instead, she asked, “Did the mission go well?”
His jaw worked. “Not as well as I wanted.” Then his eyes found hers again, steady, unflinching. “But I came home. To you. In my bed.”
Her chest tightened, breath catching. She had come in here to get the kittens, and fallen asleep while playing with them. She hadn’t done it purposefully.Probably.
Her thoughts were running circles until she almost felt dizzy. He was her captor. He was supposed to be the enemy. The reason her entire world had been torn apart.
And yet, he had come home to her. He had sat there, silent and steady, just to watch her at peace for a little while.
Willow swallowed hard, fingers clutching the blanket in her lap as she sat up, fighting herself. She should push him away, keep that wall between them, remind herself that none of this was safe. But when she looked at him—at the exhaustion in his eyes, at the way he seemed to be holding himself together just by sheer willpower—her resistance fractured.
Before she could second-guess it, she leaned forward.
