Chapter 82 82
Damien POV
Florence and Denise had been in the kitchen since the early hours, preparing breakfast. No matter how much I insisted they stay, they refused. Word had spread that Dominique was here, and they’d wanted to make American pancakes for him after Delphine mentioned they were his favourite.
“How are you feeling?” Élodie asks Dominique, and I find I can’t tear my eyes away from him.
He’d been through hell. An innocent four-year-old, yet carrying himself with a courage far beyond his age.
“I’m okay, thank you. I slept well. It’s nice to be back in a proper bed,” he says with a small, sad smile and something inside my chest fractures.
Aurélie senses it immediately. She presses a kiss to the top of his head, then reaches for the chocolate spread and sets it in front of his plate.
Geneviève begins talking to Maurice about his pack or something equally unimportant but I can’t focus. My attention is fixed on Aurélie, Delphine, and Dominique. Were they really meant to be mine? Aurélie and Delphine both notice my stare and glance up. Dominique doesn’t. His gaze is locked on Geneviève, sharp and assessing.
That’s right. He hasn’t met her before. This is his first time here.
He should have been born here. Raised here.
Both of them should have.
Delphine finishes her pancakes, licking the remaining chocolate spread from her plate before turning eagerly to her brother.
“Dominique, come on. I want to show you the garden.”
“Sshh not now,” he whispers, not once looking at her.
His eyes never leave Geneviève.
In fact, he hasn’t even touched his pancakes.
Denise and Florence come back downstairs after finishing their duties upstairs and begin tidying the kitchen. Their gazes drift to Dominique as well Florence’s lingering longer than Denise’s.
I force my attention back to Geneviève as she turns toward Aurélie.
“Well, Aurélie,” she says smoothly, “now that Dominique is safe and well, you can finally return to the Darkvale pack.”
Her hand settles on my arm.
Every eye at the table follows the movement follows her hand.
“Yes, absolutely” Aurélie begins, but I cut her off before I can stop myself.
“There’s no rush. Dominique needs another full check and clearance before a long car journey. Besides, he hasn’t had the grand tour from the Alpha King himself.” I smile at him and give a playful wink.
“Yes, I would like to see how things are run here,” Dominique replies calmly.
How old was this boy again?
“You’re four years old,” Geneviève laughs, throwing her head back. “What could you possibly know?”
“I know a lot, actually,” he says, smirking. “Even for a four-year-old.”
In that moment, he looks exactly like his mother.
“Oh, pray do tell,” Geneviève replies theatrically, spreading her arms wide, inviting him to entertain the table.
Aurélie, still standing behind him, places a steadying hand on his shoulder.
“Well, for starters, the men who kidnapped me were idiots.”
His voice is no longer soft but the composure remains, unsettling in its maturity.
“Really? How so, Dominique?” I ask, intrigued. I gently remove my arm from Geneviève’s grasp and bring my hands to my mouth, rubbing my fingertips together as I listen.
“They didn’t blindfold me. Not once. Which meant I saw all their faces. And they talked openly all the time, which means they weren’t from the same pack. They couldn’t use the mind-link.” He pauses. “I can always tell when Mum and Uncle Fabrice mind-link. Their eyes go kind of blank.”
“Interesting,” I murmur. “That’s very observant for a four-year-old. What else?” I encourage him.
Geneviève falls silent now, her thoughts clearly racing. Dominique is giving me more than I ever managed to extract from the dead, short, fat bastard. This boy wasn’t just clever he was dangerous in the best possible way.
An Alpha in the making.
“Damien, don’t encourage him,” Geneviève whispers.
I hush her without looking away.
“I don’t know why,” Dominique continues, “but they panicked one night. Made us move immediately. That’s when we ended up at the pub.”
“Thank the Goddess your Mama and Damien found you,” Maurice says, lifting his coffee mug.
“They were really stressed,” Dominique adds. “They used the speaker thing in the van when they moved me.”
“What?” I lean forward sharply, my mind already racing ahead of everyone else. The same bastard who’d hung up on me the one who orchestrated everything. Could Dominique help me bring him to justice?
Or to my pack’s punishment.
I nod for him to continue.
“It was a woman’s voice,” he says calmly. “A voice a lot like yours, Geneviève.”