Chapter <b>173 </b>


    The night was calm.


    For once, the manor was quiet–no messengers running through the halls, no warriors calling for strategy, no anxious whispers rising from the courtyards below.


    Only the soft crackle of firewood in the hearth filled the living room where Francesco and I sat together.


    I curled into the couch, my legs tucked beneath me, a book lying forgotten on myp.


    Francesco sat across from me, lounging in his chair with a ss of wine, the faintest smile tugging at his lips as he watched me pretend to read. His dark eyes, softened by the firelight, lingered on me in a way that still made my chest ache with warmth.


    It had been days of storms–lies from Dorian, whispers from neighboring packs, the looming promise of confrontation.


    But here, in this room, with him, the world felt still.


    “Your eyes haven’t moved from the same page for ten minutes,” he teased, his voice low, rich.


    I huffed augh, closing the book with mock indignation. “Maybe I was savoring the sentence.”


    He arched a brow. “Or maybe you were savoring the fire.” His gaze deepened, ck and warm. “Or me…?”


    Heat crept to my cheeks, and I tossed a cushion at him.


    He caught it easily, hisughter rumbling through the room like music.


    The bond between us hummed contentment, steady and strong. For the first time all week, I let myself rx.


    Then a knock broke the stillness.


    Francesco’s head snapped toward the door, his brows furrowing. I felt his quick scan through the bond- searching, assessing. No threat. No rms at the border. So why-


    “Enter,” he called.


    The door opened to reveal Beta Alfonso, his faceposed but faintly troubled.


    “Alfonso?” Francesco’s tone held curiosity more than irritation. “There’s no threat. Why are you here at this hour?”


    Alfonso stepped inside, bowing his head. “Forgive the intrusion, my King. My Luna.” He nced over his shoulder, and when he stepped aside, I saw the reason for his visit,


    Sofia and Lucien stood in the hallway, their hands linked tightly, their faces pale with nerves.


    “They need to speak with you,” Alfonso said softly.


    14:33 <b>Fri</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b>12 B…


    I rose from the couch, my book forgotten.


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    56 vouchers


    The bond hummed between Francesco and me, a wordless exchange of surprise and curiosity. When <b>I </b>nodded, he gave the faintest tilt of his head.


    “Let theme,” he said.


    Alfonso gestured them inside, his voice calm and guiding, like he knew the weight of what they carried.


    The young couple moved hesitantly into the room. Sofia’s eyes darted between us, her grip on Lucien’s hand. white–knuckled. Lucien stood tall beside her, crimson eyes sharp, but even his shoulders carried tension. They looked like two people about to leap from a cliff, praying wings would catch them.


    I folded my hands in front of me, my heart already softening. “What is it?” <b>I </b>asked gently.


    For a long moment, neither spoke.


    I saw them nce at one another, silentmunication flickering in their eyes. Then Sofia drew in a breath, steadying herself.


    “We’ve made a decision,” she said, her voice small but resolute. “That… We’re going to leave.”


    The words hit me like a p.


    “Leave?” Francesco’s voice was sharper, surprised.


    Sofia nodded, her throat bobbing. “My father ising. We know what that means. We don’t want to put you in danger–or your Luna, or your pack. Alpha Dorian will do whatever it takes to paint you as the viin. We can’t let that happen. Not because of us.”


    Lucien stepped forward, his voice firmer. “We’ll go to Romania. My family is there. They’ll ept her. We’ll be safe. But if we stay here… we’ll only bring war to your doorstep.”


    I stared at them, shock flooding me.


    They were <i>so </i>young, barely at the beginning of their bond–and yet they spoke with the weight of seasoned warriors. Choosing exile. Choosing hardship. Choosing to protect us at their own expense.


    Through the bond, I felt Francesco’s surprise mirror mine. But beneath it, I sensed something else–respect, Pride. He looked at them not as children making foolish choices, but as a couple shouldering responsibility with courage.


    Even Alfonso blinked<b>, </b>taken aback.


    For once, the everposed Beta seemed almost speechless.


    His eyes softened with quiet pride as he looked between them.


    “You understand,” Francesco said slowly, “what it means to leave. To sever ties with thisnd. To walk <b>away </b>knowing your father will brand you traitors.”


    <b>14:33 </b><b>Fri</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b>12


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    “Yes,” Lucien said firmly. His arm tightened around Sofia. “But better that than to let him use us as a de against you.”


    Sofia’s eyes glistened, but her jaw was steady. “We’d rather carry the weight ourselves than see more blood spilled because of us.”


    My chest ached at her words.


    I saw in her the girl I once was–young, afraid, yet unwilling to bow to fate twisted by others.


    I stepped closer, my voice soft. “You shouldn’t have to carry this alone.”


    Her eyes met mine, wide and shimmering. “It’s not fair,” she whispered. “But it’s ours.”


    Francesco exhaled, a long sound, his aura shifting. “Then it will be respected,” he said. “It is not our ce tomand your path. But if this is your choice, then you will not walk it without aid.”


    He turned to Alfonso. “Prepare what they need. Money. Provisions. Horses. Whatever will help them reach Romania safely.”


    Alfonso bowed deeply. “At once, my King.”


    Sofia hesitated, her lip trembling. “What if my fatheres here and finds we’re gone?” Her voice cracked, tears spilling over. “He’ll me you. He’ll say you hid me, or—”


    I crossed the room and drew her into my arms before she could finish.


    She stiffened for a heartbeat, then copsed against me, trembling.


    “Let my mate handle that,” I whispered, stroking her hair. “You don’t need to fear what he will say. He’s already lost the truth, but he can’t take yours. Go, if this is what you need. We’ll stand for you when hees.”


    She clung to me, her tears wetting my shoulder.


    Lucien’s crimson eyes softened, a rare crack of gratitude showing through the sharp edges of his face.


    When atst Sofia pulled back, her eyes red but her spirit unbroken, Francesco spoke again, his voice steady and strong.


    with


    <b>“</b>You go his heels.”


    my respect. And my protection. If Dorian dares chase you into Romania, he’ll find my shadow at


    Lucien bowed his head. “Thank you, my King.”


    But I saw more in his eyes than gratitude. I saw determination. The kind of devotion only a mate could bring. He would shield her with his life. He would carry her to safety even through fire.


    And in that, Francesco saw himself.


    Through the bond, I felt his pride sharpen–yes, for Lucien, but more for the Goddess, who had tied two hearts strong enough to choose sacrifice.


    <b>14:33 </b>Fri, <b>Sep </b>12 B.


    …


    That night, choices were made. Choices born of pain, but also of love.


    And as I watched them hold hands, trembling yet resolute, I thought: “This is what fate asks of us sometimes -notfort, not peace. But courage.‘


    And the young ones had found it.


    #


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