Chapter 133

Alaric’s POV

In theory, Noel being from pack CrimsonFang should make him more suspicious. After all, not much is known about the pack, other than they are secluded and value their secrecy. Yet, for Noel to share even so much as he belongs to that pack is a huge sign of trust.

Especially when I am Alpha King of DuskWood, and could easily have Noel thrown into the dungeons until he wants to share all the CrimsonFang’s secrets.

I have no interest in that, not that Noel would know. The CrimsonFang pack members keep to themselves and don’t bother anyone else. Why should I worry about them and what they get up to?

They are also several different pack lands between CrimsonFang and DuskWood, including BloodyMoon. If they are secretly building an army of some kind, or have some other nefarious plan, I would know about it through the other packs first.

I do not fear CrimsonFang or their mysteries. Noel is safe with me.

When he seems to realize that, he relaxes in his own right.

Seeing that, I suspect that Noel is truly not hiding secret motives toward Cara. He might have plenty of other secrets he keeps close to his chest, but her safety, I’m realizing, is not something he wishes to threaten.

Their friendship makes me uncomfortable still, but I know that’s from jealousy. For Cara’s sake, and for any future I hope to have with her, I know I need to keep that in check.

Looking at her, I say, “Noel may come and go as he pleases.” It’s my compromise. “But if you plan to leave here, I must come with you.” Me, and several dozen security guards.

I will not take chances, not with Cara. Not with an unknown assassin somewhere in the wings wanting her dead.

But Noel is right. I should stop looking into him as much as I am. I need to focus my efforts on others.

Cara has an enemy. But who could it be?

The days continue on. Noel lingers, which annoys me, but Cara and the kids seem happy enough to have a friend around.

Everything proceeds otherwise fine though, at least until I receive an urgent call from John midmorning.

“Alpha. The elders are coming to your house. They want to speak to you,” he says.

“They are coming here?”

“I tried to tell them that you would come to the office to speak with them, but they didn’t want to wait. They could be there any moment.”

To better protect Cara and the kids, I’ve been working from home since returning to DuskWood pack. John has been acting as my middleman, going in and out of the office.

We’ve told no one the true reason for this, not even the elders. After the incident with Melinda, I didn’t feel it prudent to give them more information about my personal life, or about Cara’s for that matter.

For them to come here, might be a disaster.

Turning, I’m about to go alert Cara when the doorbell rings. Cursing under my breath, I quickly instruct the butler to see the elders into the sitting room. Then, I do as I originally intended and seek out Cara.

She’s in the living room with Ethan, though Mia isn’t around.

Quickly, I pull her to the side.

“Do we have visitors?” she asks. The concern on my face must bring her own concern to life as well, as worry now creases her brow.

“The DuskWood elders are here,” I tell her. “I have not told them about your presence here. The butler is taking them into the sitting room. Please keep yourself and the children away. If they know you are here, I don’t even want to think about what kind of assumptions they would make. They’d be certain to share the news.”

Part of Cara’s protection is making certain that no one knows she is here. The elders would ruin that in an instant.

Cara looks even more concerned. “Which sitting room?”

This is how I learn, with my heart sinking down in my stomach, that Mia is playing with her dolls in one of the sitting rooms.

Cara and I rush there at once, to find the butler gently escorting her and her dolls from the room.

“He says I can’t play in there anymore, Mom,” Mia says, holding her dolls close. “Those strange guys came in.”

“It’s okay, honey,” Cara says. “Come into the living room with your brother and I. We’ll play dolls with you there.”

“Okay.”

As Cara ushers Mia away, she looks back, meeting my gaze.

The elders will piece two and two together. They will know what’s happened here. Cara’s secrecy is no longer secure.

I stand tall, straightening my suit, and then I walk into the sitting room where four of the elders wait to speak to me. They all seem excited, buzzing about.

They don’t even wait for me to greet them before they start talking. “Was that the little BloodyMoon princess we just saw?”

“Does that mean her mother is here too?”

“We were wrong to doubt you, Alaric. You aren’t just courting the mother are you? You are trying to bring her children in as heirs!”

“I applaud your efforts.”

“Forget what you saw here,” I tell them. Only one of them seems to listen, quietening down. The rest only become more boisterous and animated.

“How can we forget? Here we were, worried you weren’t taking your duties seriously, but instead, you’ve been out doing your best for the pack, in your own way.”

“We’re sorry we doubted you.”

“How soon until the children can start being prepared? As heirs, there are many classes they must take and lessons they must learn. Just as you did.”

I would love nothing more than for my children to be trained on how to take my place. I want to leave them a legacy, a booming pack that they would know how to properly cultivate.

Yet, Cara made me promise not to make them heirs…

And Ethan, the other night, when I even suggested it… He had been so unhappy.

“Those children are not my heirs,” I say. “They will not be trained. Not yet. For now, we will simply let them enjoy their childhoods.”

I suppose, in hindsight, my childhood wasn’t the best. I was also so burdened by responsibilities that I was too young to understand. In a way, I see the reason for Cara’s hesitation. Just as I understand Ethan’s lack of desire to give up the pack he’s always known for one he’s just met.

The elders are stunned. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” I say, and remind them, “Did I not say you are to stay out of my personal life?”

An argument ensues. The elders demand to have their opinions respected, but I again and again remind them I am king. We go in circles for a time, before I decide enough is enough.

“You will leave my home now,” I say. “Any future communication you wish to have with me can be arranged through my Beta.”

“The disrespect!” shouts the most senior of the elder. He storms out first, followed by two others. The fourth lingers. He’s been the only one to stay quiet during the argument. It seems he is the only one with respect still for the crown.

He offers his hand for a handshake. As I accept, I feel the jut of a folded paper note in my palm. I grip it, hiding it in my palm as the handshake ends and the elder leaves to join the others.

When they are gone and I am alone in the sitting room, I open the note.

It whispers of danger, and my blood runs cold.