Page 24 of Once You Go Pack
He’s changing. Dying has changed him.
The thought brought familiar resentment bubbling to the surface.
Where had this warmth been when Cade was young and desperate for his father’s approval? Why did it take impending death to unlock the man’s capacity for gentleness?
“Cade tells me you’ll be staying with us for a while,” Drake continued. “I hope you’ll find our ways interesting rather than overwhelming.”
“Everything here is already so fascinating,” Mila replied. “Though I’m still adjusting to the twin moons and twin suns. But the auroras last night were incredible.”
“Wait until you see them from the high tower,” Lyra interjected with enthusiasm. “The view is spectacular. I could show you later if you’d like.”
Mila’s face brightened. “I’d love that.”
“Actually,” Lyra continued, shooting a meaningful look at Cade, “I was thinking I could give you a full tour today. Show you the grounds, the library, maybe some of the pack lands if you’re feeling super adventurous.”
The suggestion hit Cade like a punch to the gut. He wanted to be the one to show Mila his world, and to watch her discover each wonder through fresh eyes. But duty called with its relentless demands—council business, pack concerns, and most importantly, the precious remaining time with his father.
She needs to see everything. Even if I can’t be the one to show her right now.
“That’s a wonderful idea,” he said, though the words tasted bitter. “I have some matters to attend to with Father today, but Lyra knows every inch of this place.”
He caught the flash of disappointment in Mila’s eyes before she quickly hid it, and his chest tightened. She clearly wanted him to be the one to show her around. The knowledge was both thrilling and frustrating.
Tonight. I’ll make time for her tonight.
As breakfast continued, Cade was caught between two powerful currents. The joy of watching Mila slowly relax and begin to shine in his family’s presence, and the constant awareness of his father’s fragility.
How long do we really have? Weeks?
The uncertainty was torture. Every moment felt simultaneously precious and slipping away too quickly. He wanted to freeze time, to hold onto this perfect morning where his dying father smiled and his mate sat at their family table like she belonged there.
But time was the one thing even a future king couldn’t command.
Cade’s throat tightened as his father coughed—a shallow, stifled sound King Drake tried to mask behind a smile. The man who once commanded the entire council now seemed made of paper and willpower. And Cade, for all his strength, could do nothing but watch the inevitable undo him.
When his father pushed back from the table with obvious fatigue, Cade immediately stood. “Let me help you back to your chambers.”
“I can manage,” his father said, but his voice lacked conviction.
“I know you can. But humor me.”
As he helped his father, Cade caught Mila watching them with soft eyes full of compassion. The expression on her face—understanding, empathy, no judgment—made something in his chest loosen slightly.
She sees the burden I carry. And she doesn’t run from it.
“Thank you for breakfast,” Mila said to Drake. “I hope we can do this again soon.”
“I would like that,” Drake replied, squeezing her hand gently. “Welcome to the family, dear.”
The casual declaration sent shock through Cade’s system.Welcome to the family.Not the pack, not the royal household—the family. His father had just given his blessing without reservation.
As Lyra linked arms with Mila and began chattering about their upcoming tour, Cade helped his father from the room. The bittersweet nature of the morning clung to him—hope and grief intertwined so tightly he couldn’t separate them.
She has to stay.
Because the alternative—losing both his father and his mate—was simply unbearable.
After settling his father into the massive four-poster bed that had dominated the king’s chambers for three decades, Cade lingered in the doorway. King Drake’s breathing had already evened into the shallow rhythm of exhausted sleep, his once-powerful frame appearing diminished against the rich burgundy bedding.
