Logan is sprawled on his stomach across a plush carpet, surrounded by wooden building blocks in various states ofassembly. His golden eyes are bright with amusement, his usual regal bearing completely abandoned as he helps a small girl—perhaps four or five years old—construct what appears to be a lopsided castle.
“No, no, Uncle Logan!” the girl giggles, her dark curls bouncing as she shakes her head emphatically. “The tower goes on this side!”
“Are you sure?” Logan asks, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “I thought princesses always kept their towers on the east side, for the morning sun.”
The girl considers this with comical seriousness, her tiny brow furrowing. “But then the dragon can’t see it,” she explains with the impeccable logic of childhood. “And if the dragon can’t see the tower, how will he know where to find the princess?”
Logan laughs, the sound startlingly genuine. “An excellent point, Lady Elise. The dragon’s perspective is crucial to any proper castle design.”
I stand frozen, unable to reconcile this playful, gentle man with the Logan I know. The commanding Alpha, the calculating prince, the man who forced a bond on me. This version of Logan feels like a stranger, someone I’ve never met before.
And yet, there’s something achingly familiar about him too, something that reminds me of the Logan I glimpsed briefly at the Enclave, before everything went wrong. The man who asked about my academic interests, who seemed genuinely interested in my mind rather than just my designation.
I realize with a start that I’ve been subconsciously searching for Logan ever since I woke this morning, only realizing it when I laid eyes on him. Not actively, not consciously, but my wandering through the palace wasn’t as aimless as I’d pretended. Some part of me has been seeking him out, drawn by the bond that connects us despite all my efforts to resist it.
Elise places another block atop her wobbly tower, her tongue poking out in concentration. “There!” she declares triumphantly. “Now it’s perfect!”
“Absolutely perfect,” Logan agrees solemnly, though I can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. “Worthy of the finest princess in all the land.”
Elise beams at him, clearly basking in his approval. Then her expression turns thoughtful, her head tilting in a gesture that reminds me startlingly of the Queen Mother. “Uncle Logan?”
“Yes, my lady?” He props himself up on one elbow, giving her his full attention.
“When I grow up, can I marry you?”
I nearly choke on a suppressed laugh at the question, at the way Logan’s eyes widen in momentary panic before he composes himself.
“I’m afraid that won’t work, Elise,” he says gently. “By the time you’re grown up, I’ll be an old, old man with a gray beard down to my knees.”
She giggles at the image, but persists with the determination of a child with a fixed idea. “But I want to marry an Alpha just like you. One who builds towers and knows about dragons.”
Something softens in Logan’s expression, a tenderness I’ve never seen before. “There are plenty of better Alphas out there than me, little one. You’ll find one who’s perfect for you, when the time comes.”
“Better than you?” Elise looks skeptical, her small face scrunched in disbelief. “Great-Grandmother says you’re the best Alpha in the whole kingdom. That’s why you’re going to be king someday.”
A shadow passes over Logan’s face, so quickly I almost miss it. “Great-Grandmother says many things,” he replies carefully. “But being king isn’t about being the best Alpha. It’s aboutmaking the right choices for everyone—Alphas, Betas, and Omegas alike.”
I lean closer, drawn by this unexpected glimpse into Logan’s thoughts on kingship. Is that really how he sees it? As responsibility rather than power? As service rather than dominance?
“Like Auntie Maya?” Elise asks innocently.
I freeze, shock coursing through me.
Logan looks equally startled by the question. “What do you know about Maya?” he asks, his voice carefully neutral.
Elise shrugs, already losing interest in the conversation as she reaches for more blocks. “Great-Grandmother says she’s your Omega, but she’s different from the other Omegas at court. She says Auntie Maya is going to help you be a good king because she’s not afraid to tell you when you’re being stupid.”
A startled laugh escapes me before I can suppress it, the sound giving away my presence. Logan’s head snaps up, his golden eyes finding me instantly in the doorway. Something complicated passes across his features—surprise, embarrassment, and something warmer I can’t quite name.
“Maya,” he says, my name soft on his lips.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I say, suddenly feeling like an intruder on a private moment. “I heard laughter and...”
“And you came to investigate,” Logan finishes for me, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Your curiosity remains one of your most predictable traits.”
Before I can decide whether to be offended by this observation, Elise scrambles to her feet, her eyes wide with excitement.
“Are you Auntie Maya?” she demands, bouncing on her toes. “The one with the purple hair who’s not afraid of anything?”
