Chapter 353 353
Sabine POV
I wake to find myself tangled in Maurice’s arms, his warm breath brushing against my ear as he spoons me from behind.
His arms are locked firmly around my torso, holding me close. Under normal circumstances, I’d be mortified to wake like this but I’d slept better than I had in a very long time.
I wasn’t cold.
Lying beside him, wrapped in his heat, I felt warm all the way through. His body warmth reminded me of Didier’s not that I’d ever woken up entwined in Didier’s arms. Though he had offered friendly cuddles on nights when the caravan grew unbearably cold.
Still… being held by Maurice felt different.
It made me feel safe.
Secure.
My body clock hadn’t changed. Early mornings were ingrained in me now, no matter how late I’d gone to sleep. Even though we’d talked well into the night, my eyes fluttered open at the first hint of dawn.
Carefully, I turn within his arms so I can look at him.
His dark features are relaxed in sleep, lashes resting impossibly long against his cheeks long enough to make most women jealous. I hadn’t noticed just how long they were before.
I lift my hand and trail my fingers over his jaw, the roughness of his stubble scraping lightly against my fingertips.
He lets out a low moan in his sleep at the touch, tightening his hold around me and pulling me closer, murmuring my name beneath his breath.
I smile.
So I did give him those tingles.
A startled laugh escapes me as I feel his morning stiffness press against my hip.
Oh… Lord.
Slowly, carefully, I ease myself out of his arms, replacing my body with a pillow in the hope he won’t wake. I tiptoe back to my room to get dressed, refusing to crawl back into bed. I like being up early before the day begins, before the noise and chaos take over.
And judging by the scale of the volcano I’d created yesterday, Dominique would only want something even bigger next time.
It won’t be long before I should start running, but Maurice looks so peaceful that I decide it can wait an hour.
There’s no harm in letting him sleep in.
I don’t have any big plans for today.
Intent on not waking the household just yet, I make my way quietly down the stairs only to stop dead when I hear hushed voices drifting from Damien and Aurélie’s shared office.
Surely I’m the only one awake.
I freeze on the stairs, straining to hear with my human hearing. I expect Damien to be up at this hour but I’m surprised to recognize Aurélie’s soft, controlled tones.
I glance back up the staircase, checking my surroundings, before edging closer.
The office door is slightly ajar.
Inside, I see Aurélie with Lucas and Fabrice.
Damien is nowhere in sight strange, considering it’s his Beta speaking with his mate at such an unsociable hour.
Whatever they’re discussing, Aurélie looks tense. She paces the room, fingers threading repeatedly through her long white-blonde hair, stopping only to plant her hands on her hips before releasing a heavy sigh and resuming her restless movement.
“What’s the update from the men?” she asks, directing the question at both Betas.
“It’s ready to be fully reopened,” Fabrice replies. “What do you want to do?”
My view isn’t great. Every time Aurélie moves out of sight, I struggle to hear her properly finding myself reading their lips more than listening.
“Open it,” she says at last. “We need to know what has this hold on Damien.”
There’s hesitation in her voice. I know her well enough to hear it.
“You understand that whatever’s in there may not be containable,” Lucas interjects, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his wolf reacts.
What are they talking about?
“I understand completely,” Aurélie replies. “Whatever it is, it’s getting stronger. He’s becoming more like Gaston… every day.”
My brow furrows.
“He’ll never be like him,” Lucas says firmly. “He has you. He has the children.”
Father had me.
Was he really beyond redemption?
“Something isn’t right,” Aurélie says quietly. “And I can’t take that risk. Approve access. Tear the cave down.”
Her command is heavy weighted with authority. The room itself seems to darken as she releases her aura.
She’s a powerful woman.
I retreat silently, deciding it’s best not to be caught lingering or eavesdropping.
Then it hits me.
They’ll smell my scent on the stairs.
It’s moments like this when I forget what being a werewolf really means what it involves. I don’t think like one. Not instinctively.
I deliberately make my way downstairs again, this time allowing my steps to be louder, before entering the kitchen and switching the kettle on.
I know they’ll investigate the noise soon.
It gives me just enough time to think about what I’ve overheard.
She mentioned a cave.
What cave?
And what did she mean that Damien is becoming more like Gaston… more like my father?