Chapter 80: Chapter 80
By the time we got out, Christian looked marginally more human and significantly more exhausted.
I ordered food to our quarters because there was no way either of us was dealing with the communal dining hall. We ate on the bed, surrounded by blankets and pillows like we were building a fort.
Christian’s appetite was good, which I took as a positive sign.
"You’re staring at me," Christian said.
"I’m making sure you’re eating."
"I’m eating fine."
"Your shoulder hurts. I can see it." I picked up a piece of chicken and held it up to his mouth. "Open."
Christian raised an eyebrow but opened his mouth.
We talked about everything except the challenge. Art. Music. The trip to Italy Christian wanted to take me on. Normal couple things that felt almost surreal after watching him nearly die.
My phone buzzed with a text from Connor.
**Connor:** Excellent tactical execution today. Your adaptability in the third phase was particularly impressive. Well done.
I showed Christian, who actually smiled.
"Connor surprised me," Christian said. "His combat training was extensive. More than I expected."
"You respect him now."
"I’m considering him for a more significant leadership role."
I texted Connor back: *Thank you for helping him. Seriously.*
Night fell, and Christian pulled me closer. His touch shifted from comfort-seeking to something else. Something intentional.
"Christian, you’re injured—"
"I need this," Christian said quietly. "I need you. I need to feel alive."
I was going to argue, but the look in his eyes stopped me. This wasn’t about physical desire. This was about connection. About proving to himself—to both of us—that he’d survived.
So I let him kiss me, slow and deep, and I took control because no way was I letting him hurt himself more.
We made love carefully, gently, with me setting the pace. And when it was over, Christian held me like I was the only thing anchoring him to reality.
"During the fight," Christian said into my hair, "my only thought was coming back to you."
I traced the new scars forming on his body. "I was terrified I’d lose you."
"You won’t. Not ever."
"You can’t promise that either."
"I can promise I’ll fight like hell to stay." Christian’s hand cupped my face. "I was more scared of losing your respect than losing the challenge."
"Christian, you could never lose my respect."
"Even if I’d lost?"
"Even then."
We lay there in the dark, and Christian’s breathing started to even out. I thought he’d fallen asleep when he spoke again.
"What Harold said before the fight." Christian’s voice was serious. "He told me something about you."
My stomach dropped. "What?"
"He said you carry a secret that will destroy everything." Christian shifted to look at me. "Is there something you haven’t told me?"
My mouth went dry. I thought about the weird reactions pack members had to my scent. Diana’s cryptic remarks about my heritage. The gaps in my family history that never quite made sense.
"I don’t know," I said honestly. "There are things about my background that don’t add up. Some pack members reacted strangely to me. Diana’s made remarks about my heritage being ’complicated.’"
Christian was quiet, processing. "We’ll figure it out together. After I can move without wanting to die."
"Whatever it is—"
"Whatever it is, I trust you." Christian pulled me into a kiss that felt like a promise. "Completely."
We spent the next few hours just talking. About our future. Our dreams. The life we wanted to build. It was the most open we’d been since we’d met, and I fell asleep feeling more connected to him than ever.
I woke up before Christian the next morning and just watched him sleep. His injuries were already healing faster than they should—Alpha healing was wild. I traced his features in the early light, feeling overwhelming gratitude that he was here. That he’d survived.
Christian’s eyes opened, catching me staring.
"Creepy," he murmured, smiling.
"You’re pretty when you sleep."
"I’m pretty when I’m awake too."
I laughed, and Christian pulled me closer despite the pain it clearly caused him.
My phone buzzed with a message from Marcus.
**Marcus:** Pack celebration being planned for tomorrow night. Formal victory ceremony. Attendance is expected from both of you.
Christian groaned when I showed him. "I just fought for my life. Can’t they celebrate without us?"
"We’re the guests of honor, so probably not."
"You’re handling the social requirements."
"Deal."
I got up to make breakfast in our tiny kitchenette, and Christian watched me from the bed like I was doing something fascinating instead of just scrambling eggs.
"You’re staring now," I said.
"You’re competent. It’s attractive."
I brought the food back to bed because Christian still looked like standing for extended periods was asking too much.
Christian fed me a strawberry, and the gesture turned weirdly playful and sensual, and I ended up laughing for the first time since before the challenge.
"There it is," Christian said softly.
"What?"
"Your real smile. I missed it."
Later, Christian pulled out his tablet to review pack business. I sat beside him, offering input on pending decisions like we were running a corporation instead of a werewolf pack.
We worked seamlessly together. Christian incorporated my strategies without hesitation, and I realized his trust in my judgment was absolute.
"We make a good team," I said.
"The best team."
A sharp knock interrupted us. Marcus’s voice came through the door, and it was urgent in a way that made my spine straighten.
"Enter," Christian called.
Marcus walked in looking troubled. "We have a situation at the border."
Christian tensed immediately. "What kind of situation?"
"A rogue wolf. Requesting an audience with both of you specifically."
"A rogue?" I frowned. "Why would a rogue want to see us?"
Marcus’s expression darkened. "The rogue claims to have information about Sophie’s bloodline."
The room went cold.
Christian’s protective instincts flared so hard I felt them through our bond. "Absolutely not."
"The rogue refuses to speak with anyone else," Marcus continued. "Says it’s critical information that concerns Luna Sophie directly."
My heart was racing. Harold’s warning. The gaps in my history. Diana’s comments. It was all connecting, and I didn’t like where this was going.
"What exactly did the rogue say?" Christian demanded.
Marcus met my eyes, and I saw something like sympathy there.
"The rogue said she needs to see Sophie."
