Chapter 43

Roman’s POV
“Don’t worry,” Kael said. But we could all see it—the same concern in his eyes that mirrored our own. When it came to the Werewolf Council, even Kael wasn’t at ease.
“When’s the meeting?” I asked.
“Soon.” Kael’s gaze shifted to me. “The three of us will go. You and Rafe stay back with her.”
I nodded, and Rafe spoke without hesitation. “I’d rather put up with her shitty scent than stare at those disgusting council members’ faces.”
Rafe had some personal grudge against the council, and he hated them. Being a half-vampire and half-werewolf, he had to suffer under their strict watch back then. The council’s treatment of hybrids was brutal, inhumane.
Even to this day, we were making sure Rafe stayed in control and not be taken over by his bloodlust, so he wouldn’t face the council’s brutal disciplinary actions, which were no joke.
“What if they insist?” I asked, feeling worried.
After she went through so much torment, I was not ready to agree to put her into any more pain, not even with the council.
Kael’s grip on his spoon tightened until it looked like he might snap it in two. His voice came low, steady, and dangerous through clenched teeth.
“Then we’ll make sure they regret it.”
Relief washed through me at those words. No matter how we felt about her, how much we hated her, she was ours now—and we protect what’s ours.
“You can count me in,” I told him.
“I wouldn’t mind if we made the council disappear forever,” Rafe muttered darkly.
“They’re a constant pain in the ass anyway,” Jason added dryly.
Lucian smirked wickedly, and glanced at Rafe. “Little bat, seems like I’ll be the only one ever disciplining you.”
“That would be preferable,” Rafe replied with a mocking smirk of his own.
I glanced around the table, feeling a strong sense of unity between us once more.
We were on the same page when it came to Eira—and the council. Going against the council wouldn’t be easy, but if the time came…
We’d burn down anything that tried to take her away from us.
Irony.
The girl who everyone of us wished was dead, we were now thinking of protecting her.

After breakfast, I returned to her room and found the empty plate on the side table—both pancakes gone. She had eaten. I let out a quiet breath of relief.
I picked up the dish and the half-finished glass of water and set them aside.
“The place I told you about is ready,” I said gently. “We can go now. You can leave this house.”
Something had changed in her. Perhaps letting out all that buried emotion—crying as she ate—had cleared a part of her mind. She didn’t respond with words, but for the first time, she looked at me, in my eyes.
I held her gaze. “No one will bother you there. You’ll have your own space… peace, and quiet. Just like you want.”
I couldn’t say if she believed me, but at least she didn’t turn away.
“Let’s go, then.”
I stepped closer and adjusted the blanket around her shoulders. She was still wearing my shirt, which barely reached her thighs, and it was far too thin to shield her from the cool air outside.
Later I will make sure to buy her some clothes.
“Your feet are still injured,” I told her. “I’ll carry you.”
When I lifted her into my arms, she didn’t flinch or protest. Maybe she truly was desperate to leave this place.
Her frail body barely weighed anything in my hold. As I carried her through the hallway toward the drawing room, the others came into view. Kael met my eyes. I gave him a small nod and continued walking without slowing.
I felt their gazes trailing us through the glass walls of the drawing room, but I didn’t stop.
I carried her outside to the small, cottage-style side house.
It was simple—cozy—with a small patio at the front, a single drawing room, one bedroom, and a modest kitchen. The entrance was lined with flower beds and a wooden swing that creaked faintly in the breeze.
I stepped onto the patio and opened the door. Together, we entered the little home.
The interior looked nothing like the grand, pristine design of the main house. It was warm, lived-in, and real. A soft wooden couch with colorful cushions sat near the window, and the decor was simple—curtains in warm tones, woven rugs, and little details that made it feel… like a home.
Six years ago, when I moved to this estate and saw this small home, I remember wondering what the hell Kael was thinking to build it next to his main home. This small home was exactly opposite to Kael’s taste. He preferred everything classy and sorted out. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the.net
Maybe he’d built it for Sophia—but she’d never set foot in anything less than glamorous. She lived for diamonds, designer dresses, and marble floors. Then why?
Maybe it had always just been meant as a showpiece.
But now, it finally had a purpose.
This quiet, forgotten space… it was exactly what suits Eira and what she needed.
For the first time since she came here, I felt like I was finally offering her something close to peace.
I gently settled her down on the cushioned sofa and adjusted the blanket around her again.
“From now on,” I said softly, “this is your home.”
Her eyes slowly wandered across the small drawing room, taking in the space.
The warm wooden furniture, the colorful cushions, the soft sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains—it was a world apart from the dark coldness she’d known. Maybe something about it resonated with her… or maybe it just felt less frightening.
Not sure what else to say, I moved toward the switchboard and flicked it on.
“How about you watch TV?” I offered, turning on the screen and flipping to a random channel. An animated movie was playing. Harmless. Soft colors, gentle voices. Something safe.
“This might be good,” I added, setting the remote down on the center table when she didn’t take it.
She stared at the television like it was some foreign object. And then it hit me—it probably was. Who knew how long it had been since she’d last seen one?
Her gaze remained calm, unmoving, just fixed on the flickering images.
I stood there, unsure of what to do next.
It seemed I’d be the only one talking in this room for a while.
And maybe… that was alright.