My brothers exchange glances, a silent communication passing between them. Finally, they each give me terse nods of agreement as they leave through the library doors.
The library door closes behind them, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the lingering scent of cherry blossoms that seems to have permeated every corner of our home.
I remain there for several minutes, trying to sort through the tangled mess of emotions churning inside me. Anger at my brothers for leading her on. Fear of what bringing an omega into our pack might mean. And beneath it all, a persistent, burning desire for Francine that I can’t seem to extinguish, no matter how hard I try.
Eventually, I leave the library, needing space to clear my head.
The house is quieter now, the tension of our confrontation fading into the background hum of the estate.
Hearing light laughter, I walk into the family room. I pause in the doorway, watching unseen as Francine sits with Nora at the coffee table. My sister’s wild curls bounce as she gestures animatedly, explaining something in her homework while Francine listens with genuine interest, a warm smile lighting up her face.
“No, see, you have to carry the one,” Nora insists, pointing at the paper with the serious concentration of an eight-year-old who’s just learned something new.
Francine laughs, the sound light and musical. “You’re right. I can’t believe I missed that. You’re so smart, Nora.”
Nora beams under the praise, sitting up straighter, her chest puffing out with pride. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen her so engaged with schoolwork, so happy to be learning.
Something shifts inside me as I watch them together. Francine isn’t just good with Nora—she’s good for Nora. Mysister needs this kind of gentle guidance, this feminine energy that none of us can provide, no matter how hard we try.
And suddenly I’m faced with the undeniable truth that firing Francine would hurt Nora deeply. She’s already attached, already opening up to this woman in a way she hasn’t with the string of previous nannies and caretakers.
I step into the room, clearing my throat to announce my presence. Both heads turn toward me, and the contrast in their reactions are very different. Nora’s face lights up with a smile while Francine’s expression immediately closes off, fear flashing in her eyes before she masks it with a polite smile.
That flash of fear bothers me more than it should. I don’t want her to be afraid of me.
“Kieran!” Nora exclaims, jumping up to hug my legs. “Francine is helping me with my math. Did you know she’s super good at fractions? And she gave me apple slices that look like bunnies!”
I ruffle her hair affectionately. “That sounds great. How’s the homework coming along?”
“It’s excellent,” Francine answers before Nora can, her voice soft and carefully neutral. “Nora’s quite bright. She’s picked up the concept very quickly.”
Our eyes meet over Nora’s head, and I’m struck again by how green hers are—vibrant like spring leaves in sunlight. She’s the first to look away, her cheeks flushing slightly as she begins gathering up the scattered papers on the coffee table.
“Actually,” I say, making a split-second decision, “I was wondering if you might join me for dinner tonight, Francine.”
The pencil she’s holding freezes mid-air, her eyes widening in surprise. “Dinner?”
“But Francine is helping ME,” Nora protests immediately, her bottom lip pushing out in a pout. “She promised to help memake a packing list for my camping trip. And we’re going to have spaghetti for dinner.”
I crouch down to Nora’s level, smoothing back her unruly curls. “I’m sure Elias would be happy to help you with your packing list. And you can still have spaghetti. I just need to borrow Francine for a little while.”
Nora crosses her arms, unconvinced. “Why can’t you talk to her here?”
“It’s grown-up stuff,” I explain, which is technically true.
“But I want Francine,” she whines, her fingers clutching at the hem of Francine’s shirt possessively.
I hadn’t anticipated this level of attachment already. It’s both heartwarming and concerning. “Nora, Francine will be back. I promise.”
“It’s okay, Nora,” Francine interjects gently. “We can finish your packing list tomorrow, and it will be even better because we’ll have more time to think about it.”
Nora’s frown deepens, but she’s running out of arguments. “Promise you’ll come back?”
“Of course I will,” Francine assures her, tucking a stray curl behind Nora’s ear with such natural affection that it makes my chest tighten strangely.
“Fine,” Nora huffs finally. “But I want Elias to read me two stories tonight. Not just one.”
I can’t help but smile at her negotiation tactics. “Deal. Now go find him and tell him I sent you.”
