Page 13 of Lycan’s Hunt

He shakes his head. “We aren’t sure; we never figured that out. All we learned was it was a rogue pack. The neighboring kingdoms denied any hand in it.”

“But you believe they did?”

He nods. “It’s why I take Max with me everywhere. It puts him in the limelight. But by doing so in a way that has protected him, my movements are watched by the councils, so are his. He is also too young right now to take over my place so not a threat to them.”

“How was your wife a threat?”

“A queen can rule without a king, just as I can without a queen. If I die, that title remains, especially if you’re carrying my heir. We can discuss it more later. For now just think about what I’ve said. I’ll speak with my mother about postponing the wedding.”

“Good thing she hasn’t sent invites out yet,” I tell him.

He nods, but I know she is meant to this week, though I wonder how upset she’ll be once she learns we are pushing the wedding back.

The grand castle looms ahead, its stone walls towering above the turrets reaching for the lingering clouds from the storm last night. My heart pounds as we cross the threshold together, the oversized shirt Damian brought scratching my sensitive skin. The staff bustle around us, their eyes fixed on tasks. No whispers, no raised eyebrows—just the soft rustle of feather dust brushes and the clink of metal as they go about their duties.

“Everything okay?” Soren’s voice breaks through my thoughts, gently. I nod, forcing a smile. Guilt tugs at my insides, heavy and suffocating. I think of my past—my secrets—and consider telling him about Rhett. Yet the moment slips away, tangled up in uncertainty and Damian yelling in the distance.

Suddenly, Max bursts through a side door by the grand staircase. He barrels toward us, his dark hair bouncing with each enthusiastic stride. He leaps into Soren’s arms, wrapping his small legs around his father’s waist. “Daddy! Can Bree play with me? Please?” His bright blue eyes shine with hope, innocence radiating from him, making my heart squeeze at the thought of being his stepmother.

Soren chuckles, the sound deep and warm. “Maybe after we shower, buddy.” He glances over at me and I nod, my cheeks heating.

“Okay,” Max whines.

My heart twists again, caught between the joy of this moment and the weight of my secret, knowing I could lose more than just Soren. I would also lose Max if he chose to believe Rhett over me.

“Sorry!” Damian rushes out from the same door, breathless and slightly disheveled. “He just took off from me.” His apologetic expression shifts to one of playful exasperation as he pries Max from his father kicking and squirming. Soren laughs in amusement. “You have to finish your math first,” Damian tells him as he tries to hold the squirming boy.

Max frowns, that youthful frustration palpable. “But I hate math!”

“To be a king, you must learn your numbers,” Damian says with a wink, coaxing a reluctant laugh from Max. He takes the boy’s hand, ushering him back down the hall. “You finish it and I will kick your ass in Mario Kart afterward,” Damian tells him.

“Yes!” Max cheers. “And I will kick your ass! Your gaming skills are just as horrible as your driving skills,” Max teases. His previous annoyance is forgotten as he races ahead, Damian trailing behind him while shaking his head.

With the chaos subsiding, Soren turns to me, his gaze holding mine steady. “Let’s get cleaned up.” He holds out his hand, and I take it, the warmth of his palm igniting something within me.

We move upstairs, the marble steps cool beneath my bare feet, and I can’t help but steal glances at him. As we reach our room, he pulls open the door, stepping into the bathroom.

“You definitely need to shower, you are covered in dirt. And I think I have moss stuck to my ass,” he laughs, stepping inside and turning on the shower.

Steam begins to rise, curling around us. Soren helps me undress, his fingers brushing against my skin, sending shivers racing along my spine before dragging me in the shower with him. The water cascades down, and he works his hands through my hair, massaging the shampoo into my scalp. It feels divine—the tension of the night before melting away under his touch.

“Let me,” he says softly, guiding me to face him. He rinses the suds away. His gaze lingers on me, his eyes flicker, the hunger in his gaze causing butterflies to flutter in my stomach.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in closer. And then, he steals a kiss.

Soren’s fingers glide over my shoulders, soft yet firm, sending tingles racing down my spine. I’m caught in a blissful haze, but as his lips brush against mine again, a knot of urgency tightens in my chest.

“Wait,” I whisper, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes are darkened with desire.

“What’s wrong?”

“Max,” I remind him. “I promised I’d play with him. We can’t… you know.” My voice dips, barely above a murmur, trying to keep the moment from spiraling out of control.

Soren releases a heavy sigh, his brow furrowing. “You’re right,” he concedes reluctantly, though the heat in his expression doesn’t fade. “But—”

“No buts. You need to talk to your mother. The wedding invites… they’re going out soon.”

He hesitates, his fingers stilling along my waist. “Fine,” he says, running a hand through his wet hair. “I’ll talk to her. But after…” his eyes roam my body and a playful growl escapes him as he tugs me closer.