Chapter 29 29
Damien POV
The spot was perfect dense hedgerows of wild blackberry bushes gave me enough cover to slip closer to the open field while still keeping the forest at my back. From here, I had a clean view of the stretch of land behind the pack’s territory. I settled in, prepared to wait for hours if I had to. Nothing stirred, no patrols circled this far out, no eyes scanned the area… or at least, that’s what they wanted anyone watching to believe.
It couldn’t truly be this easy, could it? A simple tangle of berry-laden shrubs offering a clear weakness in their security. Hundreds of summer fruits creating the perfect blind spot. My plan quite literally coming into fruition because of berries. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
I began backing away once I’d seen enough. I understood the gap in their border now, and how we could exploit it. Lucas would know what to do with this intel once I returned.
I had just slipped back fully into the woods when a soft, melodic giggle drifted from the field behind me. Instinct halted me mid-step. I pressed my wolf into the shadow of a wide tree trunk, rubbing his fur against bark, leaves, and mud to kill our scent before cautiously peeking out.
A little girl barreled across the open field toward the berry bushes, her laugh bubbling like summer wind. White-blonde hair bounced behind her, her complexion bright and faultless. She ran with all the reckless joy of a child convinced the world loved her back.
But she misjudged her speed, tripped, and went down hard. I winced with her as she scraped her knee. Her bottom lip trembled, the sting pulling tears into her eyes.
“Daddy!” she cried, voice breaking.
Something in my peripheral shifted. Then my heart slammed to a stop.
Fabrice came sprinting toward her.
He crouched, scooping her into his arms with a practiced ease that made my stomach twist. “Another fall, princess?” he murmured, brushing dirt from her knees.
My heart restarted in a violent thud loud, painful, disbelieving.
Fabrice. Here. And this little girl… his daughter?
I stayed perfectly still, watching while my wolf pulsed with something disturbingly close to jealousy. Fabrice cleaned the tiny cut with a tissue, promising a cartoon plaster once they got home. Then he carried her easily, distracting her with a rambling talk about what she wanted for dinner.
“Look, here comes Mummy…” he whispered as someone else approached.
My wolf moved before I could stop him slipping out of the woodland’s safety and crouching behind the hedgerow for a closer view.
Reckless. Suicidal. Not how the best tracker stayed the best.
But he moved as if he’d known long before I did what, or who, we were about to see.
I froze as a woman with the same pale, unmistakable hair drew closer. The style was different now pulled into a neat bun with stray strands escaping around her face but the colour… the aura… I would know it anywhere.
She reached them, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to the girl’s head. “Another fall?” she asked, examining the already-cleaned knee.
“Yes, Mummy,” the little girl sniffled, milking her injury now that she had her audience.
“Oh dear. Shall we get you a plaster?” she hummed softly, brushing the child’s hair back.
“Yes, Mummy.” The girl reached instinctively toward her toward Aurélie.
My Aurélie.
For four years, she had been dead.
For four years, I had mourned her, carried the weight of a widower’s grief.
But she stood mere meters from me, alive… breathing… whole. And with the child she left me for.
A vicious growl tore from my wolf at the realization. We stepped from our flimsy cover before I could stop the instinct. The little girl stiffened in her mother’s arms, trembling as she stared at the monster she saw and the ghost I saw staring back at me.