Chapter 124 124
Aurélie POV
“Maybe not quite in those words,” I say, reprimanding him lightly as my hands rest against his chest.
His shirt is streaked with mud, his knees and shins no better. Filthy from head to toe.
Boys will be boys.
And yet… I wasn’t sure we were there yet. Not really.
Telling Dominique and Delphine the truth all of it felt too soon. I had protected them fiercely throughout their early years. Shielded them from the mess, from the pain, from what had gone wrong between Damien and me.
Was I truly ready to peel that back?
Dominique had only just begun to build something resembling a relationship with Damien. Delphine still had a long way to go. If anything, she seemed wary of him. Almost afraid.
Damien might be softer with me now, different in ways that unsettled and tempted me in equal measure but he was still the ruthless Alpha King of the Bloodnight pack. A man accustomed to getting exactly what he wanted.
And he usually did.
In two years of marriage and countless war meetings, I had learned that much. Very few ever said no to Damien.
He hadn’t killed my parents but his past behaviour had made me believe he could. That belief had never truly left me.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
Maybe I was walking us all down a path that would hurt Dominique and Delphine more than it healed.
And what about Fabrice?
Dominique had always known the truth he knew Fabrice was his uncle, not his father. I had corrected Delphine more times than I could count when she called Fabrice Daddy, but she never quite let it stick.
Did I have it in me to break her heart?
The sounds of catering staff clearing the conference hall below drift into my awareness, pulling me from my thoughts. Morning had come. I’d slept peacefully despite being out on the open balcony, lulled by exhaustion more than comfort.
I shift slightly and freeze.
I’m wrapped in strong arms.
Damien is still asleep, his face tucked into the curve of my neck, his breath warm against my skin.
This is a first.
We’ve never slept like this. Not once.
I can’t help the smile that curves my lips as I look at him this big, terrifying king reduced to something almost boyish, sleeping as soundly as a pup.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, Aurélie.
There was still too much to talk about. Too much to untangle.
Fabrice? I push gently into the mind-link, suddenly needing him. Needing his grounding presence. He was still a vital part of my family, and I would never make a decision like this without speaking to him first.
Morning, his voice returns calmly.
I know it’s early, but could you meet me downstairs?
There’s a pause. Longer than usual. Uncharacteristic.
When he finally responds, I feel the faintest hesitation.
Yes. I’ll be down in five minutes.
I leave Damien asleep on the day bed and the twins snoring softly in the bed. It’s still early they won’t stir until hunger drags them awake. I won’t be long.
As I step out of the suite and descend the stairs, a door opens on the level below.
I stop mid-step.
Fabrice emerges quietly, carefully closing the door behind him only half dressed.
That isn’t his room.
That room belongs to Florence.
He glances around the landing to be sure it’s clear only to find me standing halfway down the stairs, watching him with open surprise.
Well, look at you, I tease through the mind-link. Dirty little stop-out.
Not running away, I hope? I add, amused despite myself.
No, he replies quickly, clearly flustered. My alpha commanded a word…
I frown at the phrasing just as he looks up at me and corrects himself, squaring his shoulders.
“That’s not how I meant it.”
“I can talk later,” I say, lifting my hands slightly. “I didn’t realise I was interrupting.”
“You aren’t she’s asleep,” he mutters, his face flushing as he slides his glasses back onto his nose.
“Morning!” Élodie’s bright voice rings out from the top floor.
She starts down the stairs, her eyes dancing with amusement as she takes in Fabrice standing awkwardly outside Florence’s room.
“I’ll put some coffee on,” she says cheerfully. “Will the kids want pancakes?”
“Yes,” Fabrice and I answer in unison as she passes us.
“We’ll be down shortly,” I add.
She nods and continues on her way.
“What’s wrong?” Fabrice steps closer but pauses as Élodie’s ears flick subtly in our direction from the next level down.
The Saint Wolf alpha house stretches across four floors, every inch thoughtfully used. Cream carpets line the stairs, matching the rooms I’d been assigned, contrasted by dark mahogany banisters and crystal chandeliers that catch the light beautifully.
I trust Élodie but pack links exist for a reason.
Damien wants to come back to the pack with us when we return, I say through the link, keeping my tone deliberately light.
Fabrice had always been my anchor. My protector.
“Oh?” he responds carefully. “Doesn’t he need to return to the Bloodnight pack?”
“I think he does,” I admit, “but he’s adamant about spending more time with the twins. And he feels responsible for Geneviève.”
He doesn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he removes his glasses and cleans them slowly on the hem of his now-creased shirt an old habit. A tell.
Fabrice was thinking.
Buying time.
And whatever he was about to say… mattered.