Alpha's Dark Desires
Chapter 66: Chattered Breakfast

Chapter 66: Chattered Breakfast

Kane’s POV

I needed to move fast. That damn contract had been haunting me for weeks, but now, with Elena back in my arms, it felt like a ticking time bomb. If she saw it—if she knew—I wasn’t sure we’d recover. Not after all the progress we made last night.

Elena stirred slightly in my arms, and I immediately tightened my hold, not ready to let her go just yet. Her warmth against me, her soft breathing, the way she smelled like everything good in the world—it was enough to calm the chaos in my mind.

Until she started grumbling.

"Do you always squeeze people this hard in the morning?" she muttered, her tone laced with mock irritation.

I smirked against her hair. "Only when they’re mine."

She rolled her eyes, though she didn’t try to pull away. "You’re irritating, you know that?"

"So I’ve been told," I said lightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. But even as I tried to focus on her, the nagging thought of that contract wouldn’t leave me alone. I needed to act, and I needed to act now.

A few moments later, she shifted again, her irritation starting to build. "Kane," she said, her voice sterner this time, "as much as I appreciate the possessive cuddling, I’m starving. And I’m still mad at you."

I stifled a laugh. Of course she was mad; Elena always had a fire in her that kept me on my toes. But I also knew her anger wasn’t directed at me right now—at least, not entirely. It was the aftermath of everything we’d been through, everything she’d been holding inside.

"I know, sweetheart," I said softly, brushing her hair back from her face. "But you’ll feel better after a hot shower and some breakfast."

She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at me suspiciously. "You’re being unusually agreeable this morning. What’s the catch?"

"No catch," I said quickly, giving her my most innocent smile. "I just figured you could freshen up while I go make us something to eat. Thought I’d do something nice for my mate."

Her brow arched, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. Damn it, she was too smart for her own good.

"You? Cook?" she asked, her skepticism clear.

"I’m capable of more than you think, Elena," I said with mock offense. "Besides, I owe you a good meal after everything."

She stared at me for a moment longer, clearly debating whether to push the issue. Finally, she sighed and got up, muttering something about how she’d believe it when she saw it.

The moment the bathroom door clicked shut behind her, I sprang into action. My heart pounded as I moved swiftly through the room, my eyes scanning for where I’d stashed the damn thing. The contract wasn’t just a piece of paper—it was a symbol of all the mistakes I’d made, all the ways I’d tried to control what couldn’t be controlled.

I found it laying on the floor next to the table the stupid wine Ashley had brought was still there and the glasses. I folded the contract carefully, my mind racing with options. Burn it? Destroy it? Hide it somewhere she’d never find it? None of those felt right. This was something I’d eventually have to face—something we’d have to face together. But not today. Today, I just wanted to keep the peace.

I took the contract tucked it in the bottom drawer of the below the TV. I sure hope she wouldn’t bring it up.

I didn’t want her to see this. Not yet. Not when we were finally starting to find our footing. She’d think I am a freek, a .....gosh I don’t know but it wouldn’t be Mr. Charming. And maybe I she might feel it impossible to please me sexually and all those nasty things Ashley had told her before will come back taunting her. But it was never about fulfilling my desires —it was all about her.

After tucking the contract into a more secure hiding spot, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The tension in my shoulders eased slightly, but the guilt lingered.

The sound of the shower turning on snapped me back to reality. I glanced toward the guest room door, imagining her standing under the water, her hair wet and clinging to her skin. My wolf growled softly, a possessive edge to the sound.

"Not now," I muttered under my breath, trying to focus.

I headed toward the kitchen, determined to make good on my promise of breakfast. Cooking wasn’t exactly my specialty, but I’d figure it out. Anything to keep her happy, to keep her from asking too many questions.

As I started pulling out ingredients, I couldn’t shake the nagging thought that this was only a temporary solution. The contract would come back to haunt me eventually, and when it did, I’d have to face the fallout.

But for now, I pushed the thoughts aside and focused on the simple act of making breakfast for my mate. Because for once, I didn’t want to dwell on the mistakes of the past or the uncertainties of the future.

For once, I just wanted to enjoy this fragile, fleeting peace we’d found. And I’d do whatever it took to protect it.

.....

Okay, I know it wasn’t good for me to forget about my pack members. They’re my responsibility, my family. But in my defense, when you finally get your stubborn, fiery mate to agree to be with you—to really try—it can carry your mind to a completely different world. And I’ll admit, with everything that happened last night and this morning, I was so wrapped up in Elena that I didn’t send out the usual morning instructions to my trackers.

That was a mistake.

The reminder came when my beta, Lucas, stormed in mid-morning, all business, wondering why the hell I wasn’t out there with them like I always was. But the funny part? He found me in the middle of the kitchen, glaring at the burnt pancakes I’d just pulled off the skillet. The stupid things were blackened on one side and mushy on the other, and smoke was trailing lazily toward the ceiling.

I didn’t even bother explaining myself when he walked in—I was too irritated with my so-called "cooking skills."

Lucas raised a brow, his nose wrinkling as he sniffed the air. "What the hell is that smell?"

"Breakfast," I grunted, tossing the ruined pancakes into the trash and grabbing for the bowl of batter again.

"That’s breakfast?" he asked, crossing his arms and leaning casually against the doorframe. He was enjoying this too much, the bastard. "You trying to kill someone, or are you just sabotaging yourself?"

"Do you have a reason for being here, or are you just here to judge my cooking?" I snapped, pouring another too-large dollop of batter into the skillet.

Lucas shrugged. "The trackers. They are already out looking for leads, thinking we were still on high alert and searching for your run away mate. Only, no one bothered to tell them to stand down. When you didn’t show up this morning, I figured something was up." His eyes flicked to the pancakes. "Didn’t think it’d be this, though."

I sighed, scrubbing a hand down my face. Damn it, he was right. The trackers had been working themselves to the bone since Elena had run, searching every inch of the surrounding area for any sign of her. And now that she was back, I should’ve informed them immediately that there was no need to keep looking.

"Fine. I’ll handle it," I muttered, flipping the pancake—which promptly tore in half. "Just... give me a minute."

Lucas raised an eyebrow at me, his gaze sweeping over the mess I was making in the kitchen. "You sure you’re handling anything right now?"

I shot him a glare. "Don’t you have something better to do than stand here and annoy me?"

He smirked but pushed off the doorframe, clearly deciding not to push his luck. "Sure thing, Alpha. Just don’t burn the place down. "

After Lucas—my ever-so-helpful beta—left me to my pancake disaster earlier, I knew I couldn’t avoid my responsibilities much longer. Elena was freshening up, and while I was trying my best to make something edible for her, I also needed to tie up loose ends with my trackers. They’d been scouring the area for days, pouring every ounce of energy into finding her. It was time to let them know their search was over—and maybe salvage whatever dignity I had left before Lucas came back with more sarcasm.

So, I called Marcus, the lead tracker.

The line rang only once before his gravelly voice came through. "Alpha."

"Marcus," I started, keeping my tone steady, "you can call the search off. My mate is back, safe and sound. There’s no need to keep looking."

There was a pause on the other end, long enough for me to picture the smirk that was undoubtedly spreading across his face. "So, she’s back, huh?" he drawled, his voice laced with amusement. "And here I thought we’d be searching till the next full moon. Guess that explains why you’ve been... preoccupied."

I gritted my teeth. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing," Marcus said, far too casually for my liking. "Just heard from Lucas that you’ve been busy... torturing pancakes this morning."

Of course. Lucas and his big mouth.

"Is there a point to this conversation, or are you just enjoying yourself at my expense?" I growled.

He chuckled, unbothered by my tone. "No point, Alpha. Just saying, it’s good to hear things are getting better. Sounds like she’s warming up to you."

The warmth of his words caught me off guard, softening the edge of my frustration. Marcus wasn’t just a tracker; he was one of my most trusted pack members. His loyalty and blunt honesty were qualities I valued—even if they grated on my nerves sometimes.

"Things are... improving," I admitted after a moment, my voice quieting.

"Well, that’s good news. We’ll spread the word to the others. No need to keep combing through the woods for someone who’s already home."

I replied with "Go home to your mate before she start complaining to me that I took you away from her."

"Understood, Alpha," he replied, his tone immediately serious. "But if I were you, I’d focus on making her breakfast edible before worrying about anything else."

I didn’t bother replying to that. Instead, I hung up and tossed my phone onto the counter, muttering under my breath about insufferable betas and smug trackers.

Still, I couldn’t deny the flicker of relief that settled in my chest. The search was officially over, and Elena was safe. That was all that mattered.

As I turned back to the pancakes, I caught sight of myself in the reflective surface of the microwave. My hair was slightly disheveled, and there was a streak of batter on my arm. Great. I looked as much a mess as I felt.

I cleaned up quickly, determined to at least look somewhat presentable when Elena came out. Just as I finished setting the table—this time with a stack of pancakes that were only slightly charred—I heard her soft footsteps behind me.