Whispers and Shifts

‎The morning sunlight filtered in through the velvet curtains, soft and golden. Castelle stirred gently, the weight of a thick duvet tucked over her like a cocoon. Her brows furrowed. The bed was too soft. Too clean. And the scent…

‎

‎Kane.

‎

‎She sat up quickly, the oversized duvet slipping down to reveal the sleepwear she had somehow managed to wear all night. Her eyes scanned the familiar room — his room — and she felt her chest tighten.

‎

‎Had he carried her back here?

‎

‎Before she could gather herself, faint voices drifted upstairs. Muffled, angry but intense. Her curiosity piqued. Quietly slipping out of bed, she padded barefoot toward the hallway and descended the stairs slowly, stopping just short of the living room where the voices were clearer now.

‎

‎“I told you we need tighter security,” Lucien snapped, his voice sharp and angry. “This is the second time in months—”

‎

‎“Lucien, calm down. He’s alive, isn’t he?” Kareen said softly, but her voice broke on the last word.

‎

‎“I made that food, Kane,” she cried. “I warmed it myself. I even left it in the microwave. I should have been more careful. What if—”

‎

‎“I’m fine, Kareen,” Kane’s voice cut in, low and rough. “Don’t blame yourself. We’ll find whoever’s responsible.”

‎

‎“But why the hell didn’t you call me?” Lucien growled. “You always do what pleases you. You almost died, and you just sat in your own damn living room pretending it was a headache!”

‎

‎Castelle blinked, heart pounding.

‎

‎Poisoned. Again?

‎

‎The urge to flee back upstairs warred with something deeper — the need to see him.

‎

‎Decision made, she stepped forward.

‎

‎Silence met her entrance.

‎

‎The moment she walked into the room, all heads turned. Kane, Kareen, Lucien, and three other men she didn’t know stared at her — not just her face, but slowly down to her bare legs, her tight pajama shorts, and the thin shirt doing little to hide the outline of her full breasts and clearly stiff nipples in the morning chill.

‎

‎She didn’t notice. Or care.

‎

‎She walked straight to Kane.

‎

‎He was sitting on the couch, arms resting on his knees. Pale, with those crawling tattoos still faintly visible under the skin of his neck. His eyes softened slightly when she approached.

‎

‎She reached out and placed her palm on his forehead.

‎

‎“Still warm,” she murmured, brows drawn together in worry. “You shouldn’t have carried me last night… you were poisoned, you idiot. You need to rest, must you be told everything?”

‎

‎The room was dead silent.

‎

‎Lucien’s mouth hung slightly open. Kareen blinked repeatedly as if trying to process what she just saw. The guards exchanged glances.

‎

‎And Kane?

‎

‎He stared at her with a look no one in that room had ever seen on his face before.

‎

‎Not irritation. Not dominance. Not even amusement.

‎

‎Just stillness.

‎

‎Like the world had paused the second she touched him.

‎

‎“I’m not a porcelain doll that is fragile,” he muttered, voice hoarse.

‎

‎She ignored the men and the stares. “You’re recovering. There’s nothing wrong with being careful.”

‎

‎Kareen looked from Kane to Castelle, then back again. “She… stayed with you? All night?”

‎

‎“She wasn’t afraid?” Lucien asked under his breath, more to himself.

‎

‎Kane leaned back on the couch, something unreadable in his eyes.

‎

‎“No,” he said simply.

‎

‎“She wasn’t.”

‎

‎Kareen let out a low breath. “Has the sun started setting in the east?”

‎

‎Lucien snorted, but it was more surprise than sarcasm.

‎

‎Castelle finally turned to the others, blinking as if realizing their presence for the first time. She tugged at her shirt absently, trying to cover herself. “Uh… good morning.”

‎

‎No one answered right away.

‎

‎Then Kane chuckled.

‎

‎“Relax, kitten,” he said, voice smoother now, darker. “You’ve already left them speechless.”

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎The air was thick with silence—unspoken thoughts hanging like smoke. Castelle shifted awkwardly under the weight of all their gazes, her hand still resting lightly against Kane’s forehead. Slowly, like waking from a dream, she became aware of the goosebumps across her thighs… the way the thin shirt clung to her chest.

‎

‎Her eyes widened.

‎

‎She froze.

‎

‎Oh God.

‎

‎Before she could flee, Kane’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.

‎

‎“Take your fucking eyes off her.”

‎

‎Everyone flinched.

‎

‎His voice was low, deadly. Not shouted—but sharp enough to bite.

‎

‎Lucien looked away immediately, jaw clenched. The other men dropped their eyes to the floor, a few muttering apologies. Even Kareen blinked and turned to busy herself with something that wasn’t Castelle’s flushed skin.

‎

‎Embarrassment surged hot and fast through Castelle's cheeks. Her eyes darted around the room, and without thinking, she stepped behind Kane’s broad back—half-hiding, half-clutching the hem of her shirt as if she could will it longer.

‎

‎She whispered, “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t realize what I was wearing…”

‎

‎Kane turned slightly toward her, letting her stay shielded behind him. His hand reached back and brushed her hip gently. “Next time, kitten, wear one of my shirts. They’re longer.”

‎

‎Her heart skipped.

‎

‎He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t mocking.

‎

‎He was… protecting her.

‎

‎Kane raised his voice again, addressing the room. “Everyone clear out. Now.”

‎

‎“But—” Lucien started.

‎

‎“I said now.”

‎

‎The guards were out in seconds. Kareen followed after giving Castelle a small, knowing smile. Lucien gave Kane a look — somewhere between suspicion and surprise — but left without another word.

‎

‎When the door clicked shut, Kane turned fully to her.

‎

‎She was still hiding her chest with her arms, eyes darting toward the stairs.

‎

‎“I should go change—”

‎

‎“No,” he said softly. “Stay.”

‎

‎She looked up.

‎

‎His face was still pale, the tattoos along his neck fading but still visible beneath the skin like whispering shadows. But his eyes… they held that molten gold that always seemed to see through her.

‎

‎“Kitten,” he said. “Don’t ever be ashamed around me.”

‎

‎Her throat tightened.

‎

‎She nodded, quietly.

‎

‎And for a moment, wrapped in silence, in safety, she didn’t feel like prey anymore.

‎

‎She felt seen.