Chapter 260: The Fear Of Rejection

Reid stepped closer, wrapping his arm around my waist and pressing our bodies flush together while keeping Sarah resting safely between us.

"If I’m not used to it right now, I’ll get used to it," Reid promised, his dark eyes darkening with a deep Alpha possessiveness that made my core tremble. "And if it isn’t easy... then I’ll just mark your nape. I’ll bite down, establish a permanent bond with you right here in this room, and then there won’t be a single problem left in the world... Nothing to keep me from you."

My eyes softened as a sudden, overwhelming wave of fresh tears. For a second, his face blurred through the moisture, and then the tears spilled over, hot and fast, tracking down my cheeks.

"Reid..." I sobbed softly, the last barrier around my heart completely crumbling as I leaned into his touch, yielding entirely to the warmth of his scent and the promise of his mark.

He brought his mouth to my ear, his lips brushing the shell of it as he murmured, "Let me carry you to bed, Cap. You’ve fought so hard to get back here. It’s time to rest."

Reid carefully shifted Sarah in his arm, keeping her tucked against his shoulder, while his other hand slid firmly beneath my knees. With effortless strength, he lifted me into his arms. I instinctively looped my arm around his neck, burying my face into the crook of his throat, breathing in the comforting mix of his frozen pine and the lingering sweetness of night-blooming jasmine that filled the room.

He walked us over to the large king bed—our bed—placing Sarah down first in the very center, propping pillows around her so she was safe and snug. Then, he turned to me, lowering me gently onto the soft mattress beside her.

Reid climbed in right after, his massive frame crowding the space, wrapping his arms around both me and our daughter. He pulled my head against his chest, right over the steady, thunderous thrum of his heartbeat.

​"I’m not letting you out of my sight," Reid whispered into my silver hair, his grip possessive, unyielding, and utterly grounding. "Not for a single second."

​"I’m not going anywhere, rookie," I murmured, my hand resting flat over his heart, my fingers tangled in the soft fabric of his shirt.

​Suddenly, three sharp, brisk knocks echoed through the heavy wooden door, shattering the quiet sanctuary of the room.

​We both froze instantly.

​"Reid?" Marina’s sharp voice carried clearly from the hallway, laced with heavy suspicion. "Are you alright in there? Security said someone made it past the lower gate and came straight up to the east wing. Did a reporter get through? Did someone try to take pictures of you and Sarah?"

​My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird. The blood in my veins turned to ice.

​Marina.

​I looked up at Reid, my grip on the lapels of his jacket tightening until my knuckles turned white. Panic, cold and suffocating, seized my throat.

​Does she know? Should I tell her?

​My mind raced into a tailspin. Reid had seen my ghost before I vanished—he had felt the tether, watched me fade, and knew my soul was still tied to him.

But Marina? Marina had spent the last eight months carrying the weight of the entire family on her shoulders, mourning her younger brother while stepping up as the untouchable, fierce Alpha female who would tear the world apart for the people she loved.

​If I walked out there right now in a stranger’s body, with silver hair and a face that belonged to the Samson family... would she believe me? Or would she look at me with disgust and call me a sick, twisted freak trying to play a cruel trick on a grieving family?

​The fear of seeing rejection in my own sister’s eyes was a hundred times more terrifying than dying on that delivery table.

​"Kain," Reid whispered softly, his deep voice cutting straight through the spiraling noise in my head.

​His broad hand cupped the back of my neck, gently pulling my face back against his chest, shielding me completely in his shadow. He looked down at me, his dark grey eyes filled with a fierce, protective stillness that instantly brought me back to reality.

​"It’s alright," Reid murmured against my temple, his thumbs soothingly stroking my cheek. "You don’t have to expose yourself tonight. You don’t have to face anyone until you’re ready."

​He took a slow breath, his frozen pine pheromones flaring just enough to project an aura of calm authority.

​"Marina, I’m fine!" Reid called out toward the door, his voice surprisingly steady, carrying the commanding tone of a man who was no longer drowning in grief. "It was just a false alarm. A guest took a wrong turn down the corridor, but it’s taken care of." He breathed hard for a second, looking into my eyes and said the last part a little too calmly. "Everything is fine."

​There was a long beat of silence from the other side of the door. I held my breath, burying my face in Reid’s shirt, praying she wouldn’t push her way in.

​"A guest?" Marina repeated, her voice narrowing slightly, still smelling the faint, unusual shift in the air. "...Are you sure, Reid? You sound... different."

​"I’m sure," Reid replied firmly, his hand rubbing comforting circles over my back. "I’m just resting with Sarah. Go back to the party, Marina. I’ll come see you some other time."

​Outside, a heavy sigh drifted through the wood.

​"Alright," Marina said softly, her tone finally relaxing a fraction. "If anyone tries to bother you, call security immediately. I’ll make sure the guards sweep the perimeter again."

​Her footsteps gradually faded down the long hallway until complete silence reclaimed the wing.

​I let out a shaky, trembling exhale, sagging entirely against Reid’s chest. He wrapped both arms securely around me, kissing the crown of my head as I clung to him in the dark room, safe for just a little while longer.

"It’s been so long since I slept with you in my arms," Reid suddenly whispered and I hummed.

"Eight months." It had been that long. But in the first three months... "I was there," I whispered into the warmth of his skin, my voice cracking under the crushing weight of those eight long months. "As a ghost, I slept right beside you on my side of the bed, watching you cry painfully in the dark... but you couldn’t see me. You never noticed me..."

​Reid’s frame went rigidly still against mine, his grip tightening around my waist until the pressure was almost painful, but I needed it—I needed to feel every single ounce of his solid, undeniable presence grounding me.

​"I watched you for so long my heart bled, Reid," I sobbed silently, my tears soaking through the fabric of his shirt. "When your grief was fresh... and when you were trying so hard to be a father for the first time without breaking down in front of our daughter. The way your hands trembled over her formula bottles in the middle of the night... the way you’d stare at her sleeping face and whisper, ’If your papa were here...’ God, Reid, I wanted to reach out and hold you so badly it hurt. I did, but you never felt me at all. It tore me apart."

​My entire body trembled violently at the memory, the ghost of that suffocating powerlessness washing over me all over again.

​Reid let out a harsh, broken breath, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony ripping from his throat. He shifted abruptly, pulling me up until his lips pressed against my temple, my cheek, my eyelids, kissing away every tear that fell with a desperate, frantic reverence.

​"I felt you," Reid choked out, his voice thick, rough, and completely wrecked as he pressed his forehead hard against mine. "Kain, I swear to God... there were nights I swore I could smell a faint trace of orchids in the room. Nights I woke up feeling a soft weight on my chest, or a cold breeze wrapping around my hand. I thought I was losing my mind... I thought my grief was driving me insane."

​His broad hand slid up to tangle firmly in my silver hair, holding me close as if his very survival depended on keeping me anchored to his chest.

​"I’m sorry," Reid wept softly into my skin, his chest heaving against mine. "I’m so sorry I couldn’t hold you back then. I’m sorry you had to watch me suffer alone."

​"Don’t," I breathed, reaching up to cup his jaw, my thumbs wiping away the wet tracks on his flushed face. "Don’t be sorry, Reid. You stayed strong for Sarah. You brought her up to this point, you kept our home together... and you waited for me, even when you thought I was never coming back."

​Reid didn’t answer with words. Instead, he pulled the heavy duvet over both of us and Sarah, creating a warm, impenetrable cocoon that shut out the rest of the world, the estate, and the shadows of the past eight months.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling the sweet, delicate trace of night-blooming jasmine as his broad arm locked over my waist, pulling me flush against his heat.

​"No more watching from the dark, Cap," Reid whispered against my pulse point, his voice settling into a steady, possessive murmur as his frozen pine scent wrapped around us, thick and protective. "You’re back in my arms. And that’s all that matters."