Chapter 6: When the Wolf Bleeds

Kain should’ve kissed her.

Her breath had trembled against his, her heartbeat thudding like war drums between them. One second longer and he would’ve taken her mouth, claimed it like a vow, ended the torment burning behind her eyes.

But instead—

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice cracking like something breaking in her chest. “But don’t follow me.”

Then she ran.

Not from the storm.

From him.

He didn’t chase. Couldn’t. Her words had gutted him, but it was her eyes—the way they flinched like he was the danger—that held him still.

Outside, rain screamed down in sheets as she vanished into the dark. Her black dress clung to her like second skin, a ghost trailing through the headlights—flickering, then gone.

His phone buzzed.

“Boss,” his assistant crackled. “We’ve got her. Profile, address—want us to move—?”

“No need,” Kain muttered, jaw tight. “I already found her.”

He turned—and the world snapped.

A car. Headlights off. Barreling toward her.

His pulse flatlined. Time fractured.

Move.

He exploded from the restaurant, legs pounding against the wet pavement like thunder. The car skidded, tires shrieking over slick asphalt.

“JADE!”

She turned.

Too late.

He launched forward—slamming into her with everything he had.

The impact knocked the air from his lungs. They hit the ground in a tangle of limbs and breathless terror. Her body sprawled across his, soaked, shivering, real.

Pain lanced through his back. But all he could feel was her—her heartbeat thudding against his ribs, her hair sticking to his face, her scent cutting through the chaos of the rain.

She blinked down at him. And then—she broke.

“I can’t do this,” she choked, her voice splintering like glass under pressure. “I can’t pretend I’m okay. I’m not whole, Kain. I’m wreckage. Leftovers. Practice for someone better. I gave everything to a man who said he loved me—and he still cheated.”

Tears poured down her cheeks, indistinguishable from the rain. “You don’t know what it’s like to always be the f*cking second choice.”

His heart twisted. She was breaking open on top of him—and it wrecked him.

Kain’s hands gripped her waist, anchoring her. “Then he was blind. A coward. He didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”

She shook her head, fists weak against his chest. “You’re too clean. Too perfect. And I’m chaos. I ruin everything I touch.”

“I don’t want perfect,” he rasped. His voice was low. Brutal. Real. “I want you. All of it. The wreckage. The rage. Every f*cking storm you carry.”

“I didn’t plan for this,” she whispered, voice raw. “You weren’t supposed to matter.”

“Then stop looking at me like I’m the only one who does.”

Her breath hitched.

A war played out in her eyes—pain, longing, fear.

Then she pushed off of him, scrambling to her feet. Rain slashed across her face, her arms hugging herself like she was holding in pieces.

“I told you not to follow me. Why the hell did you save me?”

“Because you’re not safe,” Kain said, rising too. “Someone’s trying to kill you. I couldn’t just stand there—”

“Can you just—stop?” she screamed, voice breaking. “I don’t need your protection! I don’t even know you! Just—leave my life alone!”

“47 Briarstone Lane,” he said softly. “Let me take you home. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

Her face went still. “You know where I live? How—what the hell did you—”

“I was worried,” he said quietly. “I needed to be sure you were safe.”

She flinched as he reached for her. He hesitated—but still reached.

She slapped his hand away.

“Don’t touch me.”

His chest cracked. But he nodded.

They locked eyes—seconds stretching between them—and then suddenly, without warning—

She kissed him.

She lunged, mouth crashing into his with fire and salt and desperation. Her fists curled in his soaked shirt like she was drowning and he was her only anchor.

He kissed her back like he was bleeding out and she was the cure.

Rain poured between them. Thunder cracked.

It was brutal and unforgivably real.

And then—she pulled away like it burned.

Her eyes filled with something unreadable. Regret. Hunger. Shame.

“Stay away from me,” she whispered.

She turned. Walked away. Her heels splashed through puddles as she disappeared into the downpour.

She didn’t look back.

Kain stood frozen.

Rain carved down his face. Her kiss still scorched his mouth. Her tears still stung his skin.

Then—a sharp clatter.

Something small hit the pavement.

He crouched, picked it up.

A black disc.

Blinking red.

A tracker.

His veins turned to ice.

Who the hell—?

His fist clenched. Rage boiled behind his eyes.

He dialed. “Trace the plate on the car that nearly hit her. Pull street cam footage. Now.”

He didn’t get to finish.

A blow slammed into his back.

He hit the ground hard, pain tearing through his ribs. A boot drove into his side. Another fist cracked his jaw.

His head spun. Blood filled his mouth.

A shadow stepped from the dark.

Rob.

That venomous smirk twisted his face.

“You’re bleeding for her already?” Rob sneered. “That was fast.”

“You tracked her,” Kain growled. “You almost got her killed.”

Rob crouched. “Kill her? Never. That tracker’s so I know where she is. So she remembers who owns her. She’s mine. Always has been. And after I finish with you… we’re getting married.”

“You’re delusional.”

“I’m in love,” Rob spat. “She’s just confused. I’m fixing that.”

Kain lunged—another boot crushed him down.

“Finish him,” Rob barked, vanishing into the mist.

A gun clicked behind him.

Kain coughed blood. “Jade…”

The shot exploded.

Pain ripped through his side.

He staggered—but didn’t fall.

Another click.

And then—

“STOP!”

A scream tore through the rain.

A figure darted in. Small. Soaked. Trembling.

“Get lost, girl!” a man shouted.

“Please!” she sobbed. “Don’t hurt him!”

Kain’s head turned. His vision blurred.

Could it be her?

Jade.

“No,” he whispered. “Get away…”

Gunfire.

She crumpled.

Kain caught her before she hit the ground.

Her body sagged in his arms, drenched and warm.

She wasn’t moving.

“Jade?” His voice cracked. “No… no…”

Another shot exploded. He didn’t feel it.

Then another—ripping through his back.

And then the last.

It drove him to his knees.

He collapsed with her in his arms, their blood mixing with the rain, pooling across the asphalt as sharp drops thundered like shattered glass around them.

Her face was pale.

But her skin—still warm.

“I promised you…” he rasped, blood spilling warm and sticky from his side as the storm howled around them. “I was gonna make you my wife…”

His hand clutched hers—tight. Desperate. His forehead pressed against hers, the rain sliding between them like tears neither of them could shed.

She didn’t move.

He forced his eyes open, blinking through the blur. Reached for his phone with his trembling free hand.

Black screen.

Dead.

No signal. No help. No hope.

His vision tilted skyward—and through the thinning clouds, a patch of stars emerged, pale and flickering above the city’s glow.

So he started to count.

One… two… three…

He’d done this every night as a boy—lying in his bed, alone. His parents always working late, always too busy for bedtime stories or goodnight kisses. He used to stare at the ceiling, counting imaginary stars to stay awake… just so he could see them come home.

Sometimes, they never did.

So he kept counting.

Four… five… six…

Now, he did it for her.

To stay awake. To keep watch. Because he was terrified if he closed his eyes—even for a second—he’d never open them again.

Because this felt like goodbye.

Seven… eight…

He brought her hand to his chest, to the place where his heartbeat faltered but still beat—for her.

“You feel that?” he whispered, voice raw. “Still yours.”

Thunder groaned above. A flicker of lightning cracked the sky.

His breath hitched. His lungs burned.

“Jade…” he whispered, her name barely a breath.

He pressed a kiss to her fingers, memorizing the shape of her hand against his own.

And then—

A shadow loomed before them, blood dripping from its hand.

Kain’s body slumped, still wrapped around Jade. Silent.

His eyes shut—slow, unwilling.

But veined,calloused fingers never let go.