Chapter 266

Chapter 266
Nolan POV
The park sat just beyond the eastern edge of the city, bordered by old trees and wide stretches of grass that had been left deliberately untamed. It was one of the few places in Silver Fang that felt untouched by politics-no council halls, no carved stone symbols, no reminders of legacy pressing down from every angle.
Just space.
I hadn’t realized how badly I needed that until we arrived.
Ellie walked ahead of me, one of the boys balanced on each hip as they wriggled in an attempt to get free, their attention already caught by the open field.
I stopped short without meaning to.
This was the place.
The memory rose unbidden-sharp and vivid. Two small boys giggling in the grass, guarded too closely by Cassian as he watched me with open unease. Ellie standing between me and them, fierce and terrified, ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.
The first moment I’d truly seen what I had nearly lost.
Now, the boys shrieked with laughter as Ellie lowered them to the ground. They got up on their shaky little legs and chased each other, their joy unguarded, their movements free and clumsy and perfect. No watchers hovering at a distance. No tension coiled in Ellie’s shoulders.
Just children playing in the open.
Ellie glanced back at me, catching my expression. Her lips curved into a soft smile.
“You’re doing that thing,” she said quietly.
“What thing?” I asked, though I knew.
“Looking like you’re trying not to breathe too hard in case the moment breaks,” she replied. “Like you think this is some dream you’ll wake out of.”
I huffed out a breath. “It feels… unreal.”
She stepped closer, brushing her hand against mine, “That’s because you spent so long believing this was impossible.”
I didn’t argue.
We followed the boys farther into the park as they toddled and crawled in turn, exploring the new environment with excitement. We ended up taking a bench near the center where the grass dipped slightly, and the land sloped toward a shallow pond.
A few families were scattered nearby-some children kicking a ball, others perched on blankets with parents watching idly.
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For a while, no one noticed us.
I let myself relax into that anonymity, my attention fixed on August and lan as they
discovered sticks, leaves, and a patch of flowers they promptly attempted to
dismantle. Ellie laughed softly beside me, the sound easy and unrestrained in a way it hadn’t always been.
This this was what I’d fought for without fully realizing it.
Not power. Not a crown.
Normalcy.
It didn’t last.
A woman walking past slowed, her gaze lingering on us before her steps faltered entirely. Her eyes widened slightly, flicking between Ellie, the boys, and me.
She hesitated.
I felt it immediately-the shift in the air, the familiar tightening in my chest. Years of instinct warned me what came next. Scrutiny. Judgment. Fear.
Instead, she approached slowly, hands clasped together as if grounding herself.
“Alpha Nolan,” she said, voice thick with emotion. “I-sorry. I don’t mean to intrude.”
Ellie straightened instinctively, though she didn’t pull away from me.
“It’s fine,” I said evenly. “How can I help you?”
The woman shook her head quickly. “I just wanted to say… thank you.’
I blinked.
>>
She gestured toward the boys, who were now attempting to climb a low rock near the flowerbed.
“Seeing you here. Seeing this. It means more than you probably realize.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond.
She pressed on, words tumbling out. “My mate and I lost our daughter years ago, during the border conflicts. Watching you fight to protect your children, even when it cost you everything… it reminded us what leadership is supposed to look like.” Ellie’s fingers tightened around mine.
“I know some people questioned why you hid them,” the woman continued. “But I understand. Any parent would do the same. Any good one, anyway.”
My throat tightened unexpectedly.
“Thank you,” I managed.
She smiled, eyes shining. “You have our support. In the election-and beyond it.”
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She stepped back then, giving a small bow before moving on.
I sat there in stunned silence..
That was only the beginning.
More people noticed. Slowly at first-curious glances, whispers carried on the breeze. Then a man approached with his young son, who stared openly at August and lan with something like awe.
“They look happy,” the man said simply. “It’s good to see laughter around the packhouse again.”
Another offered a nod of respect. Another clasped my forearm briefly, murmuring
words of encouragement. Some said nothing at all, only smiled as they passed, their expressions soft with something I hadn’t expected to see directed at me.
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