Morning came with grey skies and the gentle patter of rain on the cabin roof. Kael was already up, dressed in a plain black shirt and boots, his presence as commanding as ever. He stood by the window, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the forest beyond like he was watching for danger that hadn't come yet.
Lina stirred under the blanket he'd given her, her body still sore, but her spirit… quiet.
She sat up slowly, brushing damp curls from her face. Her eyes found his broad back before he turned.
"I'm not staying long," she said softly, almost like she was trying to convince herself.
Kael didn't move. "Didn't ask you to stay."
Silence.
It stretched between them, thick and loaded. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, looking around the cabin—stone walls, simple furniture, not a single personal touch.
"Do you live alone?" she asked.
His jaw tightened. "Yes."
"No pack?"
"They keep their distance."
She didn't ask why. She already knew. A man like him didn't push people away. He forced them away. There was a kind of loneliness in his presence—loud, but buried deep.
Kael finally turned to her. "Who were you running from?"
Her eyes flickered. "People who thought they owned me."
A muscle twitched in his jaw. "Humans?"
She hesitated. "No. Wolves."
That caught his attention. His eyes sharpened, his entire posture shifting. "What pack?"
"I don't belong to them anymore," she said quickly, her voice suddenly trembling. "I left."
Kael's eyes darkened. "They let you leave?"
"No," she whispered. "That's why I ran."
A long silence passed. His gaze stayed locked on her like he was trying to figure out whether she was a threat—or just broken. Either way, she was something he hadn't expected.
"You should've stayed hidden," he muttered.
She met his eyes. "I did. Until now."
For a moment, something flickered behind his cold expression. Not pity—Kael didn't pity. It was something else. Recognition, maybe.
He turned away again, reaching for a kettle to boil water. She watched him, noticing how even his silence carried weight. The way he moved was sharp, controlled, like someone who never let his guard down—not even alone.
"Why did you help me?" she asked quietly.
He didn't answer right away. Then, in that low gravel of a voice, he said, "Didn't feel like letting you die in my forest."
"And now?"
He paused. "I'm still deciding."
There was no smile on his face, but something in his tone told her it wasn't a threat—it was a truth. Kael didn't lie. He didn't offer comfort. But he had let her in.
Even if he didn't know why.
"Thank you," she said again.
He didn't look at her. "Don't thank me yet."