Chapter 513

Frederick’s POV

She froze, the meaning of the words sinking in. Her tears fell freely then, and she let out a small, breathless laugh—half joy, half disbelief.

“Frederick she whispered, and before I could say another word, she kissed me—slowly, tremblingly. I smiled and broke the kiss.

“You haven’t given me an answer,” I whispered.

Selene lifted her head slowly. Her eyes were still wet, but there was a new kind of light in them—gentle and full of peace. “Yes,” she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. “Of course, yes p>

The relief that washed through me was unlike anything I’d ever felt in all my years. I smiled—really smiled—for the first time in a long time, and pulled her close, kissing her forehead. “Thank you,” I murmured. “I’ll spend the rest of my life learning how to love you right. I’ll protect you, Selene. No harm will ever come to you while I still draw breath p>

She smiled faintly, her fingers brushing my face. “And I’ll love you too,” she whispered. “No matter what comes next, I’ll stand by you p>

She slammed her lips into mine for another kiss, only this one was intense, and I chuckled, brushing her hair from her face as I broke the kiss. “Careful,” I said softly. “If you keep kissing me like that, I might forget to let you rest p>

She laughed, blushing faintly. “Then I’d better stop p>

We both smiled, and she settled back beside me, curling up against my chest. The warmth between us wasn’t just from touch—it was from trust, from something deep and new that neither of us fully understood yet.

As her breathing slowed and she drifted to sleep, I stayed awake for a while, just watching her. Her hair spilled across my arm, her face calm and soft. I didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time in centuries, I wasn’t afraid of it.

Eventually, my own eyes closed, and I fell into a dream.

In it, I saw Hailee. She looked younger—peaceful. A big smile spread across her face.

“I’m happy for you, Frederick,” she said softly. “You finally found love p>

I tried to reach for her, but she only shook her head, still smiling. “It’s time for me to go,” she said gently. “Goodbye p>

When I woke, morning light was spilling through the curtains. Selene was still asleep in my arms, her hand resting over my heart.

I let out a slow breath and smiled faintly. For the first time in my long life, I knew what peace felt like.

My phone suddenly buzzed on the low table. I opened my eyes slowly, still fogged from sleep, and fumbled for it with one hand while the other kept Selene close. The screen lit up with a message from my informant—the one I’d sent to dig, to listen, to collect the pieces of Selene’s father’s life that no one else wanted to see.

Everything is ready, the message read. Evidence compiled. Witnesses prepped. I can bring the proof to the council when you say so.

A small, hard sound left me. Relief and anger braided together behind my ribs. I thumbed a short reply: Bring it. Meet me at dawn. Don’t delay.

Selene stirred against my chest, one hand flexing as if feeling the beat of my heart. Her lashes lifted, and when she opened her eyes, the world seemed to tilt in toward us. For a moment she just looked—at me, at the morning light, at the small, safe room that smelled faintly of sex and our scents.

“Good morning,” I said, because the voice that came out sounded steadier than I felt.

She smiled, that gentle, fragile smile that had already grown into something steadier overnight. “Morning,” she whispered back. Then she leaned forward and kissed my throat, soft and warm. “Thank you,” she murmured.

I brushed a thumb across her cheek and let the weight of the message settle. “My informant says everything is ready,” I told her. “We can bring down your father. We can show the council what he did p>

Her face changed while I spoke. At first there was confusion, then understanding. She pushed herself upright and blinked, as if shaking sleep from her mind. “That was fast,” she said simply.

“I sped it up,” I said. “You gave me the reason to finish it p>

She folded her hands in her lap and inhaled slowly, like a woman pulling herself together from the inside. “I had a dream,” she said suddenly. “I saw my mother. She was calm. She told me she’s happy now p>

The words were small, but they landed heavy. I reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I’m glad you get to see her again,” I said.

She laughed once—a sound like a broken thing being mended. “It was strange,” she admitted. “Not all pain. But it was her. She asked me to trust our bond. I hate that the bond brought me to you when everything else trained me to hate you p>

I let out a breath that tasted like the last of my fear.

She sat very still, and for a second I wondered if the decision was harder than I had imagined. Then she looked up and met my eyes, and I saw the line in her jaw harden.

“Is he ready to pay?” she asked, voice low.

“He will be held to account,” I answered. “My informant has witnesses who will testify, ledgers with his handwriting, pay slips, secret routes used to move girls out of the country. The council will not be able to ignore this. They will not let him walk away p>

Selene swallowed. The muscles in her throat worked. “They will hang him for this,” she said. Her voice was small and terrible.

I felt my stomach drop. The law of the packs is harsh and swift for those who betray their own. “If the council convicts him, yes,” I said. “He will face the full weight of the law p>

She was silent for a long moment, looking at the window where the light fell in a clean rectangle on the floor. When she spoke again, it was as if she had climbed through fire and come out steadier on the other side.

“I’m ready,” she said.

I let the word wash over me and then leaned forward to press my forehead to hers. Her skin was warm, and the small line of her brow felt like the last of her doubt. “Are you sure?” I asked, because I wanted her to know I would only walk this road with her if she wanted it.

“Yes,” she replied, a single small word full of breaking things and building them up again. “He has to pay. Not just for my mother, but for every child he stole, every family he ruined. He must pay p>