Chapter 26:

The first light of dawn filters through the thin curtains, casting a pale glow over the room. I lie still for a moment, listening to the faint creak of the floorboards downstairs. 

Cassidy's mother is already up, as usual. I don't need to see her to know she's in the kitchen, her hands busy with the day's first tasks. The rhythm of her movements is as familiar as the sound of my own breathing.

I push myself out of bed, the cool air nipping at my skin as I pull on a sweater. The house is quiet, save for the soft hum of activity below. I make my way downstairs, my footsteps light on the wooden stairs.

She's at the counter, her back to me as she kneads dough with practiced ease. Her sleeves are rolled up, revealing arms that are strong despite their age. She doesn't turn as I enter, but I know she's aware of my presence.

"Morning, Lilah dear," she says, her voice warm but tinged with something I can't quite place.

"Morning," I reply, moving to the stove to pour myself a cup of tea. The scent of spices fills the air, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly baked bread. I lean against the counter, watching her work. "You're up early again."

She chuckles softly, her hands never pausing. "Old habits, dear. You know how it is."

I nod, sipping my tea. There's a tension in the room, a weight that hangs between us. 

I can see it in the way her shoulders are set, the way her hands move just a little too quickly. She's worried about something, and I have a feeling I know what it is.

"Cassidy's still asleep," I say, breaking the silence by trying to introduce small talk.

She nods, her gaze fixed on the dough. "She's always been a heavy sleeper. Takes after her father."

I smile faintly, but the unease in the room doesn't dissipate. I set my cup down and cross my arms, studying her. "You're worried about me leaving, aren't you?"

Her hands still for a moment, and she finally turns to face me. Her eyes are soft, but there's a sadness there that makes my chest tighten. "I just want you to be happy, Lilah. If that means going back to Moonhaven, then so be it."

I shake my head, stepping closer. "I'm not going back. Not now, maybe not ever."

Her brow furrows, and she wipes her hands on her apron. "You don't have to stay here out of obligation, dear. You've already done so much for us."

"It's not obligation," I say firmly. "I've found something here that I didn't think I'd ever have. A home. A family. I'm not ready to give that up. Back there, I didn't think I was loveable. But here I am and you just treat me like I'm one of your pups without a care in the world what I am."

Her eyes glisten, and for a moment, she looks like she might cry. But then she smiles, a genuine, warm smile that reaches her eyes. 

She steps forward and pulls me into a tight embrace, her hands firm against my back. "You're an amazing person, that's what you are. And you always have a place here, Lilah. Always."

I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the hug. For a moment, everything feels right. But the moment is fleeting, and I know I can't stay here forever. 

I pull away, offering her a small smile. "I should get to the pack house. Prince Caspian will be expecting me."

She nods, her hands lingering on my shoulders for a moment before she lets go. "Should I call for my driver?"

"Oh no, not today. I think I need the walk to clear my head."

She nods with a smile. "Be careful then."

I grab my coat and head for the door, feeling the sweet tingles of her words on my skin and in my heart. 

I matter here, and that's all that matters. I know Theo may not take my decision well, but if he truly cares for me, he'll accept it.

The pack house is already bustling with activity when I arrive, the air thick with the scent of pine and earth. 

I move quickly, avoiding the gazes of the other pack members as I make my way to the kitchen to collect Caspian's breakfast tray.

I'm halfway up the stairs when Theo steps into my path, his arms crossed with a small frown.

"There you are. We need to talk," he says, his voice low and tense.

I tighten my grip on the tray. "I have work to do. Later."

"You keep saying that," he groans tiredly. "But later never seems to come."

I meet his gaze, giving him a small smile. "I promise this time around. When I'm done with my shift, we'll talk."

His lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, I think he might argue. But then he steps aside. "Fine. Later."

He steps aside and gives me room to pass. I glance back at him apologetically and continue on my way to the royal quarters.

I've avoided talking to him about his main reasons here mainly because I'm still trying to actually forgive what happened the night I left.

It's not his fault Darius rejected me, hell no. But like Caspian said, it only took him two months to reach out. And he also shouldn't be expecting me to follow him back.

Because I've made up my mind since the very first day I became an omega here. I didn't even need anyone to talk to me about it. I'd rather die than head back to moonhaven.

I stop outside Caspian's door, balancing the food tray on one hand so I can be able to knock without having any of the items falling out of the tray.

I knock once on Caspian's door before pushing it open. He's just stepping out of the bathroom, a towel slung low around his hips. 

His hair is damp, falling in dark waves over his forehead, and his grey eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch. 

Water droplets cling to his skin, tracing the lines of his muscles as he moves. He's all sharp angles and raw power, and for a moment, I'm frozen in place.

"Morning," he says, his voice low and rough, a hint of mild amusement in his tone.

Someone woke up on the right side of the bed.

I quickly set the tray down and turn toward the door, my face burning. "I'll wait outside while you get dressed."

He scoffs, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Relax, Delilah. It's nothing you haven't seen before."

I scowl at the door, my cheeks still flaming. "Not by choice."

He sighs, and I hear the rustle of fabric as he pulls on his clothes. I keep my eyes firmly fixed on the doorframe, my heart racing. 

When he finally speaks again, his voice is closer, and I know he's dressed.

"You can turn around now."

I do, slowly, and find him standing by the table, fully dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark trousers. His hair is still damp, but he's combed it back, revealing the sharp lines of his face. 

The scent of roses lingers in the air, subtle but unmistakable. He looks every bit the alpha, commanding and untouchable.

"What's for breakfast?" he asks, picking up a fork and eyeing the tray.

"Food," I reply, gesturing to the tray.

He shoots me a look. "Smartass."

I cross my arms, leaning against the wall. "You wanted to talk?"

The amusement in his eyes die down as he sets the fork down. He opens his mouth to say something but he squints his eyes like he's just remembered something that has been on his mind.

 "Why didn't you retire last night when I told you to?" he asks. I get that this isn't what he wants to talk about, but I push it as a pre-discussion...if there's anything like that.

I exhale, shifting my weight. "Eden ordered me to serve."

His jaw tightens, and he steps closer, his eyes narrowing. "So you'd rather listen to her than me?"

"She didn't give me room to do otherwise."

"But I'm the one you're serving, and I'm the Prince around here."

"I know that."

"Then why obey her over me?"

I lift a brow, meeting his gaze head-on. "Because I didn't want to get hit again."

He stills, his expression darkening. "What?"

I wave a hand dismissively, "It's not a big deal—"

He steps closer, his gaze sweeping over my face. "Delilah," he says, his voice low and dangerous, "what do you mean by 'again'?"

I stay silent, my jaw clenched. That's answer enough.

His eyes darken, and he reaches out, his fingers brushing my chin. Before I can pull away, his grip tightens—not painfully, but enough to keep me still. 

He tilts my head slightly, his thumb grazing my cheek as he searches for any remaining marks.

"It's gone," I say quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

His thumb lingers for a moment before he exhales sharply, releasing me. "Why didn't you tell me she was the one when I asked?"

I meet his gaze, my own hardening. "What would you have done with that information?"

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, I think he would drop the issue. But then he steps back, running a hand through his hair. "You think I'd just let her get away with that?"

I shrug, "I'm probably the most disposable person on this estate, I don't expect anything from you."

His eyes narrow, and he steps closer again, his voice low and intense. "You're not disposable. I don't want you thinking that."

I blink, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. A lump forms in my throat, but I force a smirk, trying to lighten the mood. "Careful, my prince. If you keep saying nice things, I might start thinking you like having me around."

He scoffs, though there's a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Don't push it."

I smirk, but the moment is shattered by a knock on the door. Caspian's expression hardens, and he turns toward the sound. "What?"

A guard peeks in, his expression wary. "Your father requests you in his office."

Caspian mutters something under his breath before nodding. "I'll be there in a minute."

The guard leaves, and Caspian turns back to me, his expression serious. "Don't leave."

I blink, caught off guard. "Uh?"

"Stay here," he commands, his voice firm. "I have something I need to talk to you about." His gaze sharpens, and I can see the weight of his words. "About your cousin."

My stomach twists, and I nod, though my mind is racing. He doesn't wait for a response, already striding toward the door. 

I'm left standing in his room, the scent of roses lingering in the air, unsure whether to be worried or grateful for the delay.