(Kane's POV)
The front door clicked shut behind her with more force than necessary.
Kane didn't move.
He listened to Rosalie's heavy footsteps as she stormed off the porch and disappeared into the woods. She hadn't said goodbye had barely said anything after their argument. Her silence spoke louder than her rage.
Kane leaned back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head.
He didn't regret what he said.
He didn't apologize for disappearing.
He didn't ask her to understand.
But that look in her eyes before she left fire mixed with confusion stayed with him.
Rosalie was used to control. Structure. Obedience. Kane gave her none of those things.
And she hated how much she liked it.
The quiet in the house returned. The warmth from the fire crackled in its own rhythm. Kane closed his eyes for a few seconds, letting the silence stretch.
Then came the knock.
Soft. Polite. Too calm to be Rosalie.
He opened one eye.
The door opened gently, without waiting.
Carla Cullen stepped inside.
She didn't announce herself. She didn't hesitate. She simply walked in like she had every right to be there which, Kane figured, in her mind, she did.
"Am I interrupting your brooding?" she asked, voice smooth, amused.
Kane gave a short grunt of laughter. "Didn't realize I was."
"You are," she replied easily. "Rosalie looked like she was ready to throw a tree through your window."
"I'm flattered."
Carla studied him for a moment like a scientist observing something dangerous behind glass.
She was calm, collected, dressed in something effortlessly elegant, and radiating the kind of maternal power that most men mistook for gentleness.
Kane wasn't most men.
"You're not like the others," she said, eyes narrowing slightly. "You don't flinch. You don't chase. You don't apologize."
"Should I?"
"No." Her smile was small but sharp. "I think you'd be less interesting if you did."
Kane stood, rolling his shoulders once. "So? What brings you to my humble forest shack?"
Carla looked around briefly at the warm but sparse interior, then turned back to him.
"We'd like you to come over," she said.
Kane raised a brow. "We?"
"Well," she said, "I would like you to come over. Esme likely would too. The others… remain divided."
"Rosalie included."
Carla gave a slight nod.
Kane smirked. "You think inviting me into your home is a good idea?"
"I think not inviting you would be more dangerous."
That surprised him. He liked that.
She stepped closer not threatening, not flinching. "You've already unsettled them. Whether you come or not, they're going to keep watching you. But if you do come… maybe they'll start to understand you."
"I'm not asking to be understood."
"No," she agreed. "But they need to. You've disrupted the balance, Kane. That's not a bad thing. But unacknowledged power? That gets messy."
Kane studied her for a long moment.
Then: "When?"
"Tomorrow night. Dinner. Just us."
He nodded once. "I'll come."
Carla turned to go, then paused at the door. She looked over her shoulder, eyes thoughtful.
"Rosalie isn't used to people like you," she said quietly. "She's trying not to care. That means she already does."
Then she was gone.
Leaving Kane standing alone again, firelight dancing across his face, that small smirk playing on his lips.
He didn't chase Rosalie.
He didn't beg.
But she'd be back.
They all would.
One by one.