Chapter 189 189
Aurélie POV
He may be your father-in-law, Aurélie, but if he keeps looking at the twins like that, I’m going to tear his eyes out…
Fabrice’s growl echoes through my head, aimed squarely at Damien’s father. I don’t turn to look at him there’s no need. I can feel the fury rolling off him, sharp and dangerous, vibrating through the bond.
My gaze never leaves the former Alpha King standing before me. The man who once signed a marriage contract with my father as if lives were nothing more than ink on parchment. I keep my wolf tightly leashed, though she’s clawing for the surface, restless and furious, eager to teach this old dog exactly how the world has changed.
“Aurélie…” Fabrice warns again through the link.
To calm him and to protect what matters most I move with deliberate ease. I guide Dominique and Delphine behind Fabrice and Florence, then step forward, placing myself squarely between them and the threat. My movements are smooth, controlled, but my intent is lethal. I would kill him long before he ever laid a finger on my children.
That simple act snaps him out of the oppressive power glare he had locked onto Dominique. The moment it breaks, his attention shifts and lands on me.
The stare he fixes me with is dangerous. Cold. His eyes are a deep grey-blue, nothing like Damien’s. Where Damien’s hold warmth and fire, his are forged of steel iron-hard, unfeeling, stripped of mercy.
“Is there a problem?” he asks, a smirk tugging at his lips, one eyebrow lifting. His voice wavers just slightly. Feigned patience. Beneath it lies irritation he isn’t quite skilled enough to mask. This is a man accustomed to taking whatever he wants, by whatever means necessary. The absolute opposite of my father and I pray, of Damien.
“No,” I reply calmly. “No problem at all. They just don’t know you.”
I meet his stare without blinking.
“And I’d like to keep it that way.”
There’s no malice in my tone only truth. He is nothing to them. He never will be. Dominique does not need the Bloodnight pack if it means being tied to him. In this moment, I begin to understand the kind of childhood Damien was forced to survive.
His lips peel back just enough to flash his teeth a subtle threat. My wolf surges beneath my skin, barely restrained. By the Moon Goddess herself, he will never touch my children.
Damien lets out a warning growl beside me, low and feral. His eyes haven’t left his father once. Lucas stands behind him, tense and alert, ready to issue commands at a moment’s notice. The warriors will only follow one king and it isn’t the man at the desk.
“I believe we weren’t properly introduced at the wedding,” he says at last. “Gaston Garnier. Damien’s father.”
The way he speaks drips with patronising arrogance, a sexist undertone as if my being female somehow dulls my intelligence.
“I know exactly who you are,” I snap, my voice dropping into a sharper, more masculine register. If he wants an Alpha, then I’ll give him one. Some men only understand power when it’s spoken in their own language.
He laughs softly. “Impressive, Damien.”
His eyes flick down to my chest again before returning to my mate. The repeated glance makes Damien bristle, his anger thickening the air.
“Not only have you managed to maintain the alliance I carved out with my own bloody hands,” Gaston continues, “but you’ve gone and married the competition as well. Well done.” He slams his fist onto the desk, laughter booming as if he’s a drunken king reveling at a feast, wine and meat spilling freely.
“What do you want?” Damien growls, stepping slightly in front of me, shielding me from the sudden darkness in his father’s laughter.
“I’m taking the pack back.”
The amusement vanishes instantly. He drops his feet from the desk, planting them firmly on the floor, his posture shifting into something cold and resolute.
“You’ve breached the conditions I set. You’ve allowed packs to leave packs that joined the Darkvale alliance. Good terms or not, you do not lose packs to her. You’ve disgraced the legacy my father and I spent decades securing.”
“You can’t do that,” I interject. “We’re still married”
Damien’s hand closes around mine, gripping tight, silencing me.
“Married with children, it would seem,” Gaston muses.
His gaze tries to cut past Fabrice and Florence, but they hold their ground, shielding the twins without hesitation.
“So,” he adds slowly, “those are my grandchildren?”
Damien squeezes my hand again. I don’t need the bond to understand him.
Get them out.
“Fabrice,” I command through the mind-link, my tone leaving no room for argument. “Take the children. Keep them at the back with the warriors until I come for you.”
He doesn’t hesitate.
“Daddy,” Delphine’s small voice carries as Fabrice ushers them out, “who was that man?”
Lucas follows close behind, shutting the door firmly.
Gaston lets out a displeased grunt, clearly unimpressed by our refusal to explain ourselves or by our unconventional parenting.
I don’t care.
My children are safe.
And that is the only thing that matters.