Chapter 294
Ellie POV
The morning was quiet in a way that felt almost unreal.
Sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the Silver Fang packhouse, pale and gentle, warming the stone floors instead of glaring off them. The wards hummed softly beneath it all, a low vibration I had learned to register without thinking— comforting, steady, alive.
For the first time in days, there were no raised voices in the corridors. No urgent footsteps. No runners bringing news from the borders.
Just peace.
I sat cross-legged on the floor near the hearth, August pressed against my side, lan sprawled half across my lap. Wooden blocks lay scattered between them, abandoned in favor of tugging at my sleeves and babbling nonsense syllables at each other. Their laughter-high, breathless, unburdened-filled the room.
I watched Nolan from where he sat across from them, one knee bent, one arm braced against the floor as he leaned in close. He was utterly focused, dark eyes soft as August smacked a block against his knee and lan tried-very seriously-to offer him a drool-soaked toy.
Nolan took it without hesitation.
“Thank you,” he said solemnly, as if it were a priceless gift.
I felt something swell in my chest, tight and aching and warm all at once.
It still startled me, how natural this looked. How natural it felt.
The boys adored him.
They reached for him without fear, climbed into his space without hesitation, trusted his steady presence with an instinct that made my throat ache. Nolan had always been intense-commanding, sharp-edged-but with them, that intensity softened into something quieter. Protective. Reverent.
Like he understood exactly how fragile this happiness was.
Maybe he did. Knowing what I did about his childhood, Nolan probably knew better than most what it meant to be allowed these simple, childish moments. And what it
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felt like to have them taken away.
lan lost his balance and toppled sideways, bumping harmlessly into Nolan’s thigh. Nolan reacted instantly, steadying him with a hand at his back, murmuring something low and reassuring as if lan had done something far more dangerous than fall over.
I smiled despite myself.
“You don’t have to hover,” I said gently.
“I absolutely do,” Nolan replied without looking up. “They’re fast. And fearless.”
August chose that moment to squeal and crawl determinedly toward Nolan, climbing into his lap with clumsy determination. Nolan laughed under his breath, the sound rare enough that I stilled just to listen to it.
“This,” Nolan said quietly, one hand braced around August’s middle, the other steadying lan as he followed, “is everything I ever wanted.”
The words landed with unexpected weight.
I looked up at him, really looked. At the faint shadows beneath his eyes, the way his posture still favored his healing injuries, the tension he carried even in moments like this.
He had given up so much in the last weeks-status, ambition, a crown that once would have defined him.
“For them,” he continued, voice low, almost rough. “For you. I’d give up anything.”
I swallowed. “You already did.”
Nolan finally met my gaze. There was no defensiveness there. No pride. Just honesty.
“And I’d do it again,” he said. “A thousand times over. If stepping away keeps them safe, then it wasn’t a sacrifice. It was a choice.”
I reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his. He squeezed back immediately, grounding, solid.
He didn’t have to tell me, I understood that choice he’d made. But I knew that he
was aware of the rumors, the speculation, the gossip. For as many people as there were who understood his decision, there were also those who saw it as a weakness.
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The great alpha of Silver Fang had lost his nerve, all because of a woman and a couple of pups. That harsh sentiment didn’t matter to me. I knew it was spoken only by lonely and bitter men who had never been in his position.
But Nolan felt the need to reassure me, to make sure that I didn’t take the harshness to heart. It made my heart swell to know that even now, he was concerned about me.
For a few precious minutes, the world narrowed to this room. To the soft rustle of blankets. To the boys’ laughter. To the sense-fragile but real-that maybe, just maybe, peace was something they could still fight for.
It didn’t last.
It never did.
Alaric arrived just before midday.
I felt his presence before I heard him, a familiar weight pressing gently against my
awareness.
He didn’t announce himself; he never did. One moment the corridor beyond the sitting room was empty, and the next, my father stood there, tall and still, his expression unreadable.