Page 22 of Lycan Prey (Little Secrets Duet #1)

She turned her back on me, on Granny, and I won’t let her indifferent curiosity sully Granny’s memory.

Yet for a second I longed for her voice, wanted my mother.

I thought I did until I heard her voice, unperturbed, her day not yet ruined like mine is, her grief spared, her voice the same as the day Dad cast me out. Cold and emotionless.

A sudden warmth spreads across my shoulder, startling me out of my spiraling thoughts. I whirl around, nearly losing my footing, and my heart lurches up into my throat.

King Soren stands there, his towering presence unexpectedly close. Moonlight dances off his dark hair, giving him an otherworldly aura. His eyes search mine, heavy with a concern that feels too intimate, too personal for an acquaintance.

“King Soren…” My voice trails off, a mix of surprise and something dangerously close to relief edging into my tone. I should be alone; I want to be alone. But the weight of his hand is grounding, real in a way that nothing else has felt since the chaos began.

“Are you alright, Bree?” he asks, the timbre of his voice wrapping around me like a soothing balm.

I shake my head, my lip quivering as I attempt to build walls around my grief. “No,” I admit, though it’s barely audible—a truth torn from the depths of my soul.

My eyes, blurred with tears, dart to the side as I gesture toward the boy. “Oh right, you’re here for Max,” I mutter, my voice weak realizing I have his son.

Max sits hunched between the sliding glass doors and a stern-looking security guard, his small frame almost swallowed up by the vastness of the sterile environment. The sight stings—I shouldn’t have brought him here. That was wrong of me. He didn’t need to witness all this.

“I know you’re probably angry but I couldn’t leave him at the house. Everything happened so fast…” I try to explain my actions.

King Soren steps forward, blocking my view with his imposing figure, and suddenly there’s no hospital, no bustle, no Max—just his piercing gaze locking onto mine.

“I’m not angry with you,” he says, his tone gentle, a stark contrast to the chaos swirling inside me.

I nod slowly. “Again, I’m sorry, but the nurses were good. I don’t think he fully understands; you should get him home,” I tell him before looking around for his guard when I spot the black SUV’s taking up the parking lot.

“I’m not just here for Max.” He whispers and I look up at him. “Are you alright?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, charged with an unspoken understanding. He knows the gravity of what’s happened, the loss that’s tearing through my very soul.

Am I alright? The words seem absurd, laughable even if they didn’t feel like shards of glass tearing me apart. How can I be alright when everything has crumbled beneath my feet?

I shake my head, fighting the tide of emotions that threaten to break me. Each breath feels like a battle, each thought, a weight I can’t carry.

“I’m fine,” I lie, the words hollow and brittle as they fall from my lips. “You should get Max home. He’d be due for his dinner.” My voice wavers, betraying my feigned strength.

Soren’s gaze pierces through me, seeing past the facade I’ve erected.

His eyes, deep pools of concern, search my face for the truth I try so desperately to hide.

“I’m not leaving you like this,” he insists.

“Let me drive you home,” he continues, his tone brooking no argument yet laced with an empathy that fractures my resolve.

“I…” I start, but the words tangle, caught between pride and despair. Soren’s steady gaze holds mine, offering silent support. He doesn’t push, doesn’t demand. He simply waits for me to agree. He motions for Max who rushes toward us, Soren instantly scooping him up.

Then Soren’s hand finds mine in the darkness, warm and steady, an anchor in the storm that rages inside my soul.

I stumble slightly on the gravel, my legs shaky, my heart a broken compass in a world suddenly devoid of direction.

Without a word, he guides me to his sleek black sedan parked under the orange glow of the streetlight.

His touch is gentle but firm before he lets go, buckling Max into his seat.

He motions toward the passenger door and opens it for me.

I sigh but slide into the vehicle, the leather seats cool against my skin and he climbs into the driver’s seat.

The engine purrs to life, a soft vibration that seems to mock the silence between us.

I draw in a shuddering breath, my eyes fixed on the passing scenery—a blur of shadows and light that mirrors the turmoil within me.

We pull up to my house, and I realize now everything has changed. As I sit beside Soren, this man who carries the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders yet offers me solace in my darkest hour, I understand that nothing will ever be the same again.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the roar of blood in my ears. “For everything.” I reach for the door handle.

“Maybe stay the night with us?” Soren suggests, his voice gentle yet firm. His gaze drifts over my house, taking in the peeling paint and the neglected garden.

I follow his gaze, seeing the house through his eyes, and the shabbiness claws at me.

A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow hard against it.

Now she is gone, what do I do? I can’t stay here; she was my excuse for being here.

I can’t register with the council and now I know I will be asked to leave.

“No, don’t be silly. I’ll be fine,” I whisper, more to myself than to Soren. But his fingers curl around mine, a vise of warmth in the chill air, unwilling to let go.

“King Soren, really—I—” My words falter, breath catching in my throat.

His grip tightens, and it feels like an anchor in a sea of sorrow. “Bree, you don’t have to be alone.”

The insistence in his voice claws at the walls I’ve hastily built around my grief.

Alone is all I’ve known, despite the pack, the familiar scents of pine and earth that should signify home.

Betrayal lingers in my nostrils, Bianca’s perfume mingled with Rhett’s—a scent that once promised safety now reeks of heartache.

“Being alone… it’s what I’m used to,” I choke out, each word a shard of glass scraping its way up my throat. The loneliness isn’t new; it’s a shadow that’s followed me since Bianca walked into our lives, since I turned my back on my family for the man who sold me.

Soren doesn’t push further. He gives me a nod, a silent acknowledgment of my choice, a testament to his respect for my grief.

“Goodnight King Soren, Max. I’ll see you soon,” I choke out, my voice a tangle of grief and resolve. Max’s big, tear-filled eyes lock onto mine, and I muster a half smile for him, a weak attempt to soften the jagged edge of reality.

The door handle of the car feels cold and foreign under my fingers as I fumble to release myself from the confines of Soren’s vehicle. Slipping out, the chill evening air bites at my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the tears streaming down my cheeks. I shut the door.

Turning my back on them, on everything, I cross the threshold into the silent house.

The door closes with a soft click, and I lean against it, allowing myself to slide down to the floor.

Here, in the enveloping darkness, I can let go.

Here, I can break apart like I’ve felt like doing since I found her.

But for now, I sit in the suffocating stillness, the echoes of my heartbeat the only sign I’m still alive in the wreckage of my shattered world.