Page 7

Chapter

Seven

A ZALEA

I watch Kyson storm off, his anger palpable in every stride, before turning my attention back to Ester.

Carefully, I pull my clothes back on, my movements quick and efficient.

I untie her hand, and Peter rushes to grab his mother around the waist, concern etched on his face.

Taking a moment to survey the scene, I spot Trey and Clarice nearby.

“Get some rags and herbs,” I instruct them, urgency clear in my voice. They nod in understanding, swiftly hurrying off to fulfill my request. As they scurry away, I unclip Ester’s other wrist, preparing to help her sit down. But before I can reach out to assist her, she slaps my hand away.

“Mum! She’s trying to help!” Peter’s voice cuts through the tension, his frustration evident. I stare at Ester, stunned by her rejection.

“She has helped enough,” she growls, her words laced with bitterness.

“I could have let him fucking kill you! Would you prefer I did?” My anger rises to meet hers, my words sharp and biting. She glares back at me, undeterred. “I am the only thing standing between you and my mate,” I assert fiercely.

Ester laughs derisively, shaking her head in disbelief.

“You are exactly like your mother! A gutless whore who doesn’t like a little competition,” she spits at me with venom.

Without even registering my actions, my claws slip out instinctively, slashing across her face as I deliver a resounding slap.

At the same moment, Clarice rushes out with Trey close behind, carrying a bucket.

They freeze in their tracks upon hearing the sound of my palm connecting with Ester’s cheek.

A shocked gasp escapes Clarice’s lips while Peter’s expression mirrors her astonishment. I, too, am taken aback by my own actions, but my anger overrides any concern. How dare she insult my mother, regardless of whom her words were intended for? Especially after I just saved her from a brutal fate?

I had the power to let him kill her, but I didn’t. I was willing to endure my mate’s wrath to protect her, even after her son had taken the life of my unborn child. And yet, she throws it all back in my face. As a stinging sensation courses through my hand, tears threaten to spill from my eyes.

Kyson is furious with me for defending Ester, and now she has repaid my loyalty with a cruel tongue. Swallowing down the bubbling emotions and the hurt caused by her words, I turn to Clarice and Trey.

“Clean her up and ensure she leaves the castle grounds,” I instruct them firmly, my voice steadier than I feel inside.

Brushing past their shocked faces, I feel Trey’s grip on my arm.

“Are you okay? What did she do?” he asks, concern etched on his features.

I shake my head, not wanting both of us to be consumed by anger. All I want is to escape this situation.

“Where is Kyson?” I inquire urgently.

“I’m not sure. He might be in his office or maybe his old quarters,” Trey replies uncertainly.

“I’ll mindlink him myself,” Trey offers, but I shake my head.

“No, just make sure they are both gone before I return,” I request firmly.

“Azalea, Kyson doesn’t want you to be alone,” Trey persists.

“I’m fine. I’m going to find him anyway,” I assure him, though Trey purses his lips in concern.

“Fine, but stay on this side and don’t wander too far.

If he’s not in his office, come back here,” he cautions.

I nod in acknowledgment, eager to leave the tense atmosphere behind.

I make my way to Kyson’s office first, only to find it empty.

The guard informs me that Kyson went to find Dustin with Liam and Damianbecause Damian is leaving sometime tonight.

Letting out a weary sigh, I ascend the stairs, hoping to find Abbie and distract myself from the recent events.

I locate Abbie in her quarters, greeted by Gannon who answers the door. Abbie tries to move toward me, but freezes mid-step, frustration etched on her face. She groans, expressing her desire to have the command removed.

“Man, you need to find a way to remove the command,” she exclaims, flopping back onto the floor next to Tyson, who is engrossed in playing with wooden blocks. I lean down, pressing a kiss to Tyson’s head and tousling his hair before settling beside him.

“I heard the King made you watch?” Abbie chews on her lip, concern evident in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t bear to watch that. I could kill him for putting you through that!” Abbie growls, her protective instincts flaring up. Gannon growls softly at her words.

“Mind your tongue, Love,” he warns gently, settling back on their bed.

We engage in conversation for a while longer, but it’s clear that Abbie’s inability to move freely is straining her. Every movement must be calculated and deliberate, considering her intentions when navigating her own room.

“Can you go into town for me?” Abbie eventually asks Gannon, her tone hopeful. Gannon sighs and sits up.

“He needs to learn to sleep without it.” Abbie shoots him a look of frustration, but I can tell it relates to Tyson.

“Gannon!”

“Fine,” he growls, leaning down to pick up Tyson. I’m surprised to see Tyson willingly reaching his arms up, allowing Gannon to hold him.

“What’s in town?” I inquire, curious about Abbie’s request.

“That microfiber blanket. It tore in the wash,” Abbie explains. Tyson has sensory issues, and certain materials irritate him, so Abbie’s concern is justified. He likely won’t be able to sleep without it, as it provides him comfort.

“I think there’s one in the room Kyson set up for the baby, across from his old quarters,” I suggest, recalling glimpsing a folded blanket on the end of the cot. Before I can offer to go and check, we hear a knock on the door. All heads turn towards it as Kyson steps inside.

“So this is where you disappeared to,” he remarks, his earlier anger dissipating. He stands behind me, reaching down to offer me his hand. I accept it gratefully, allowing him to pull me to my feet.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, burying his face in my neck. I sigh, feeling a wave of relief wash over me in his presence.

“Yes, now that you’re here,” I reply honestly, and he presses a gentle kiss to the side of my neck.

“Where are you headed?” he asks, glancing over at Gannon.

“He was going into town to get Tyson a blanket, but I mentioned there might be a microfiber one in the room across from your old quarters,” I inform him, turning my head to meet Kyson’s gaze.

“No, it’s fine. Gannon can buy one,” Abbie quickly interjects, and Gannon hums in agreement.

“No, it’s fine. I think Azalea is right,” Kyson decides, his lips brushing against my cheek. “I’ll ask Matt to bring it over,” he offers, and Gannon places Tyson on the bed.

“Are you sure?” Gannon asks, seeking confirmation.

“Yeah, nothing in there is getting used anyway,” Kyson replies, his words tinged with a hint of sadness that reverberates through our bond. Leaning into his embrace, I notice the faint tremor in his hand resting on my waist.

“Come on, let’s go. Besides, I’m sure that Abbie is tired of tiptoeing around her own room just to avoid accidentally walking toward me,” I chuckle lightly.

“Or I could show you how to remove the command,” Kyson whispers behind me, and I look up at him with a mixture of curiosity and hope.