Chapter 59 Home Again

Chapter 59 Home Again
Cole’s Point of View

Dawn broke over the city as the last of the Supernatural Council guards departed with the prisoners. Thank the Goddess that the docks were a rundown abandoned area with few to no humans. The warriors we brought with us cleared the area before the Council arrived.

The rogues and traitors, shackled and subdued, were loaded onto the council’s enchanted wagons, their fates sealed. I stood beside Marc, our shared relief palpable as the weight of the past days began to ease. Lucienne stood a few steps ahead, her posture straight and proud, but I could feel the tension radiating from her.

Marc and I exchanged a glance. She hadn’t spoken much since we found her. It wasn’t like Lucienne to hold back—she was bold and fearless, her emotions always worn like a badge of honour. But now, her silence was deafening, the weight of everything she had endured pressing down on her.

She stayed close to us, her touch grounding. Whether holding our hands, leaning into us, or simply brushing against us as we walked, Lucienne didn’t seem to want to let go—not that we minded. If anything, her need to stay physically connected was reassuring. She was here, safe, trusting us to hold her together when she couldn’t do it herself.

Marc reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned into him. “You don’t have to say anything, love,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble meant only for her. “We’re here. Always.”

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, and I felt a flicker of relief. She was still with us, still fighting, even if she wasn’t quite ready to talk about it yet.

“You can take all the time you need,” I added, my thumb grazing her knuckles. “No rush, Luce. We’re not going anywhere.”

She sighed softly, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little. For now, it was enough. She wanted to be held, and we were more than happy to oblige.

“She’s strong,” Marc murmured under his breath, his voice steady but tinged with worry.

“She is,” I agreed, though the knot in my chest tightened. “But even the strongest reed can bend and break.”

Marc nodded grimly. We knew she hadn’t fully processed what had happened. Hell, we hadn’t either. The fear of losing her—the thought that we might never see her again—was a weight we weren’t ready to let go of. But Lucienne… she had been the one taken, the one who had suffered. Whatever scars she bore, visible or not would take time to heal.

“Do you think she’ll talk about it?” I asked quietly, my eyes never leaving her.

Marc sighed, running a hand through his hair, his frustration barely contained. “Not yet. She’s the type to try to carry it alone.

I nodded grimly, watching Lucienne walk a step ahead of us, her arms crossed over her chest. “She’s strong, but even the strongest need someone to lean on,” I said quietly, my eyes following the tension in her posture.

The truth was, we hadn’t been together long enough to know exactly how she handled situations like this. Sure, we knew her reputation—fierce, independent, a warrior through and through. But knowing someone’s strengths and understanding their vulnerabilities were very different.

Marc’s gaze softened as he looked at her, concern etched into his features. “She’s always been strong and brave, but now…” He hesitated, his jaw tightening. “I wonder if she’s scared to let us in. I hope she realises that she can and be safe too.”

I exhaled slowly, the weight of the unknown pressing on my chest. “We’ll figure it out,” I said firmly. “She may not say it, but she’s still reaching out in her own way.” I gestured toward the small, almost instinctive touches she sought—her fingers brushing against Marc’s sleeve, the way she occasionally leaned into my side. “She wouldn’t do that if she didn’t trust us.”

Marc’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Yeah. She’s not the type to do anything she doesn’t mean.”

It was a fragile thread of hope but enough to keep us steady. Lucienne might not let us carry her burdens just yet, but she wasn’t pushing us away either. And for now, that was something.

I clenched my fists, the thought of her suffering in silence tearing at me. “We won’t let her.”

“No,” Marc said firmly. “We won’t.”

The journey back to the Howling Wolf Pack was quieter than I’d expected. Lucienne rode between us, her hand occasionally brushing against mine or Marc’s, but her focus remained on the passing scenery. She seemed lost in thought, her expression unreadable.

As much as I wanted to pull her close, to make her feel safe and loved, I knew better than to push. Lucienne needed space to process everything; I wouldn’t take that from her.

Instead, I focused on her subtle tells—how her shoulders relaxed when Marc cracked a small joke or the faint smile that tugged at her lips when the younger warriors cheered as we passed through the pack gates. Small victories, I told myself.

The packhouse was buzzing with life by the time we arrived. News of our return had spread quickly, and Lucienne’s siblings were waiting for her on the front steps. Her twin, Cedric, was the first to reach her, his usual smirk replaced by a rare look of concern.

“You’re late,” he teased, pulling her into a tight hug.

Lucienne laughed softly, the sound more genuine than I’d heard in days. “Blame the rogues,” she shot back.

“Always do,” Cedric replied, though his grip on her lingered.

Her younger siblings approached next, their expressions a mixture of relief and joy. Princesses Sigrid and Delaine were the first to reach her, pulling Lucienne into a warm embrace. “You’re really here,” Sigrid whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. At the same time, little Delaine hugged her legs as if she feared Lucienne would disappear.

Princes Aaron, Jacob, and Bastian followed closely behind. Aaron ruffled Lucienne’s hair with a small smile, his usual stoic demeanour softened. “It took you long enough to come back,” he teased lightly, though the relief in his tone was unmistakable. Bastian and Jacob almost fought to wrap her in a firm hug, their arms lingering to ensure she wouldn’t disappear again. “We missed you,” they said quietly, their voices thick with emotion.

“My brave girl,” Queen Adriana murmured as she came up beside them.

Lucienne’s composure faltered for the briefest moment, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she leaned into her mother’s touch. Marc and I exchanged a glance, our bond humming with shared emotion.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of family reunions and quiet moments. Lucienne’s younger siblings clung to her, their chatter filling the packhouse as they tried to catch her up on everything she’d missed. She seemed to soak it in, her smiles more frequent, her laughter a balm to everyone’s nerves.

Marc and I stayed close but gave her the space she needed. As much as we wanted to take her upstairs, to hold her and remind her that she was ours, we knew this time with her family was just as important.

“She’s smiling more,” Cedric noted as Marc and I watched her from across the room.

“Yeah,” I said, though I couldn’t shake the lingering tension in my chest. “But it doesn’t mean she’s okay.”

“She will be,” he said, his voice steady. “We’ll make sure of it. You’ll make sure of it.”

I nodded, appreciating Cedric’s confidence in us. His words carried a weight of trust, and I didn’t take it lightly. Lucienne wasn’t just his sister; she was his twin, his other half. If anyone understood what she needed, it was Cedric. The fact that he was willing to place that faith in Marc and me spoke volumes.

“You know how much she means to us,” I said quietly, meeting Cedric’s sharp gaze. “We’ll do whatever it takes to help her heal. To make her happy.”

Cedric’s expression softened slightly, though the protectiveness in his eyes never wavered. “I know. That’s why I’m not worried.” He glanced toward Lucienne, who was laughing softly at something Sigrid had said. The sight of her so at ease, even if only for a moment, seemed to reassure him. “But…”

“You won’t have to say a word,” Marc interrupted, stepping beside me. His tone was calm but resolute. “Because we never will. Lucienne is it for us. There’s no lifetime where we don’t put her first.”

Cedric studied us for a moment, then nodded. “Good,” he said. “She deserves that.”

The three of us fell into a comfortable silence, watching Lucienne move between her younger siblings, her laughter growing freer by the second. It was a sound I’d missed more than I realised, and hearing it now filled some of the cracks in my chest.

Marc rested a hand on my shoulder, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “We’ll get her there, Cole. One step at a time.”

I glanced at him, grateful as always for his steadiness. “Together,” I said firmly. “We’ll do it together.”

That night, as the packhouse settled into quiet, Lucienne finally sought us out. She stood in the doorway of our shared room, her expression softer than it had been all day.

“Hey,” she said quietly, her eyes meeting ours.

“Hey,” I replied, pulling her into my arms. Marc joined us, his warmth surrounding her from the other side.

“I’m glad to be home,” she murmured, her voice muffled against my chest.

“You’re safe,” I said firmly, my hand brushing through her hair. “And we’ll make sure you stay that way.”

Her arms tightened around us, and she let herself lean on us entirely for the first time since we’d found her.