Page 25 of Once You Go Pack
The sight twisted something fierce and protective in Cade’s chest.
How many more mornings will we have like this?
He pulled the heavy oak door closed with deliberate care and made his way down the familiar corridor to his father’s office—hisoffice now, if he was being honest. The space had become his refuge and prison over the past month, where duty called with relentless demands and where he’d been trying to fill shoes that felt impossibly large.
The moment he stepped inside, his father’s scent washed over him like a tidal wave. Pine and leather, authority and strength—all of it now tinged with the bitter undertone of illness. Cade breathed it in desperately, knowing that soon even this lingering presence would fade.
I’m not ready.
The admission clawed at his carefully constructed armor. Cade Dravik was supposed to be ready for anything. Kings didn’t have the luxury of doubt or fear. Yet here he stood, thirty years old and feeling like a boy who’d lost his way in the dark.
He moved to the massive desk that commanded the center of the room, its surface covered with reports from pack security, correspondence from the other royal packs, and legal documents that required his immediate attention. The weight of it all pressed down like a physical burden.
The Ice Moon throne. The High Sovereign position. Three packs looking to me for leadership.
His jaw clenched as the magnitude of his inheritance crashed over him in waves. The Blue Moon and Shadow Moon packs would test him immediately—he could feel their ambition stirring like wolves circling wounded prey. They’d been waiting for this moment, for King Drake’s strength to finally fail and create an opportunity of a lifetime.
Cade rubbed the back of his neck, the unease gnawing at him. Trouble was brewing, and now that Mila was here, the stakes had shifted entirely.
Everyone knows I need a mate to claim the High Sovereign role without challenge.
The mate requirement had been enacted to ensure stability, and to guarantee that the ruler had personal stakes in the future of the realm. But as Cade thought of Mila—her gentle spirit, her human fragility, her complete lack of understanding about shifter politics—a fierce terror filled his chest.
What kind of life am I asking her to accept so quickly?
He pushed back from the desk and strode to the tall windows that offered a commanding view of the Ice Mountains. The twin suns cast harsh light across the snow-covered peaks, making the landscape appear both beautiful and unforgiving. Just like the life he was supposed to inherit.
Mother understood this burden.
The thought came unbidden, bringing with it a familiar ache. Queen Sira had navigated these same pressures, had stood beside King Drake as he consolidated power and forged alliances. But she’d paid the price—lonely nights while Drake handled crises, stolen moments between royal duties, and always, always the knowledge that the pack’s needs came before personal desires.
Is that what I’m condemning Mila to?
Through the windows, he could see Lyra and Mila far below on the castle grounds. Even from this distance, he could make out Mila’s golden hair catching the light as his sister gestured enthusiastically toward the training grounds. The sight of her—exploring his world with wonder rather than fear—should have brought comfort.
Instead, it only heightened the war raging inside him.
His wolf wanted to claim her immediately, to bind her to him so completely that nothing could take her away. The beast inside him cared nothing for politics or propriety—it recognized its mate and demanded satisfaction.
But the prince in him, the son raised on duty and sacrifice, knew better.
If I let myself love her fully, I’ll destroy her.
The admission cut deep. Love made people vulnerable, hell, it made them targets. His mother’s death had taught him that lesson with brutal clarity. Queen Sira had been beloved by the pack, yes, but that love had also made her a symbol worth destroying for their enemies.
I can’t afford to lose Mila like I lost my mother... but can I afford to love her?
The question echoed in the empty office, unanswered and terrifying. Because the truth was becoming clearer with each passing second: he was already falling, already losing control.
If I do, if I let her in completely... and something happens... I’ll carry that regret forever, just as I have with Mother.
His reflection stared back at him from the window glass—green eyes hard with unshed tears and jaw clenched with the effort of containing emotions too powerful to name. He looked like a younger version of his father in this moment, like a king bearing the weight of impossibility.
But if I don’t let her in—if I keep her at arm’s length to protect us both...
That path led to a different kind of destruction. He’d truly become like his father—powerful but isolated, successful but empty.
The sound of laughter suddenly drifted up from the courtyard below. Mila’s genuine delight carried on the wind—so human, so alive. The sound pierced through his defenses like an arrow finding its mark, reminding him of what he stood to gain—and lose.
