For a moment, I almost forget the warning thrumming through my body. The pull between us is still so strong, a physical tug that makes every nerve ending light up with awareness. But the unease coiling in my stomach can't be ignored.
I tug him toward the shadowed sleeping alcove, away from the kids. His footsteps follow without hesitation.
In relative privacy, he leans in, close enough I smell his scent—warm, dark, distinctly Caine. His breath fans against my hair as he bends toward me, and he steps a little too close.
I step back. There's a different unease now, one where I'm pretty sure he's misunderstood why I dragged him with me. If I move even a millimeter closer, I'm pretty sure he's going to throw theno touchingroom out the window—not that the cave has one—and kiss me senseless, audience or no.
"Something's coming," I whisper, my voice tight with tension as I try to defuse the strange atmosphere he's brought with him. "Something bad. I can feel it, I think. It's weird. Maybe I'm going crazy."
The change is immediate. The heat in his eyes transforms, hardening into something else entirely. His shoulders square. His jaw sets. In an instant, he shifts from the man who looks at me with desire to a warrior king. A protector.
He doesn't question me. Doesn't dismiss my feelings as paranoia or ask for evidence I don't have. He simply nods, accepting my warning as truth.
My heart melts.
"Where?" he asks, his voice sharpened to a tactical edge.
I shake my head, frustrated by my own vagueness. "I don't know. I just feel it. Here." I press a hand against my sternum, where the heaviness sits. "Like something's about to go wrong."
His eyes scan the cave, no longer focused on me. He's in a different world in his head, doing alpha things. "Is it coming for the kids?"
"I don't know. Maybe it's about Lyre and the others. I'm not sure. I just can't shake this… feeling."
I could just be having a mental breakdown. After all, it sounds crazy trying to explain it to him, and I've never had an ability to foresee chaos or disaster. But something inside meknows. It's a bone-deep surety, something I can't doubt, no matter how much I try to logic it away in my head.
And Caine believes it.
He hasn't looked at me with a single shred of doubt.
He nods once, decisive. "We need a plan. First priority is securing the cave. Second is establishing communication."
No questions about my certainty. No dismissal of my intuition. Just immediate, practical response.
I exhale slowly, some of the tightness in my chest easing. The dread doesn't diminish—if anything, it intensifies—but sharing it makes it more bearable somehow.
"Maybe… we should leave the cave?"
The anxiety lessens a little, and I nod. "Yeah. We should leave the cave. I think it might happen… here."
It's a little easier to breathe.
Could be my imagination. Could just be residual from sharing my worries. But again the strangesomethinginside me feels like it approves of what I'm saying.
His hand hovers near my elbow, not quite touching, but close enough to feel the heat of him. "Stay with the kids," he says. "I'm going to check outside."
"What if I'm wrong?" I ask, now doubting the strength of my strange conviction.
He meets my eyes, serious and steady. "Then we're prepared for nothing. But we need a plan if we're leaving with all these children."
And if I'm right—
Well.
Chapter fifty
Caine: Get Them Out
CAINE
