Louis’s POV
"So, you’re really with Olivia," Lennox said. His tone caught me off guard. It wasn’t sharp, not the furious edge I had prepared myself for. Instead, it was calm, almost resigned.
I had braced for his anger—for him to lash out, accuse me of lying, of sneaking behind their backs while everything else was falling apart. But instead, all I heard was the faint sigh that slipped through the link.
"You should have just said it," he muttered.
I exhaled, rubbing a hand over my face. "I didn’t want things to get awkward."
Lennox scoffed lightly, not angrily —just matter-of-fact. "Come on, Louis. She’s also your mate. That doesn’t matter. Not to me."
His words hit me in a way I hadn’t expected. I sank deeper against the bedframe, glancing down at Olivia sleeping soundly against my chest. The knot in my stomach loosened just a little.
"So... what now?" I asked after a moment, uncertain.
"Don’t worry," Lennox said, his tone collected, the edge of command slipping in the way it always did when he took charge. "Just stay with Olivia. At least she needs one of us right now. I’ll tell Calvin she went on a trip with you. He’ll back off if he thinks she’s safe."
I nodded instinctively, even though he couldn’t see me. "Okay."
That was Lennox—always quick to find a solution, even in the messiest situations. He didn’t dwell, didn’t overcomplicate. While Levi would’ve pressed me with a hundred questions, Lennox had already decided the path forward. That quality of his—steady, decisive—was something I had always admired, even if I never admitted it to his face.
I glanced down at Olivia again, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She shifted slightly, sighing softly in her sleep, her arms curling tighter around me as though she knew, deep down, she was safe.
"Tell me if anything goes wrong," I said to Lennox.
"Don’t worry... just have fun." With that, Lennox ended the mind link.
I inhaled deeply, pressing a kiss to Olivia’s head. She was still fast asleep. It seemed our play last night had drained every bit of strength from her.
"Mine." My wolf howled possessively inside me.
I sighed contently, letting the comfort of having her in my arms sink into me. But then it hit me—when she woke, she would be hungry. I opened my eyes, realizing I needed to prepare breakfast for her.
I pressed another kiss to her hair, her soft strands brushing against my lips. She didn’t stir, only sighed faintly and burrowed closer against me.
Leaning down, I whispered against her ear, "I’ll be back."
Her lashes didn’t flutter, her eyes didn’t open, but she murmured something faint and sleepy, a sound that made my chest ache with tenderness. I lingered for a heartbeat, then carefully slid her down against the pillows, making sure the blanket stayed tucked around her. She curled into it instantly, still wrapped in the warmth of our night.
Quietly, I pulled on a shirt and padded out of the room, closing the door softly behind me.
The kitchen smelled faintly of polish—the housekeeper had been here earlier. I opened the cupboards and the fridge, finding them neatly stocked, just as I’d asked her to keep them. Everything was arranged in order, labeled, and easy to reach.
Eggs, bread, fresh fruit. Even my favorite tea was stacked carefully in the corner, untouched since the last time I came here. I made a mental note to thank the housekeeper later, but for now, my mind was on Olivia.
She’d be starving when she woke up. After last night... I knew I had drained her. My wolf howled proudly at the thought, but I shoved him back, focusing instead on what mattered now.
Not dominance. Not play.
Care.
My mate needed food, comfort, and a reason to smile when she opened her eyes.
I rolled my sleeves and set to work.
I cracked a couple of eggs into the pan, the sizzle rising as the yolks spread across the heat. The sound filled the quiet kitchen. I grabbed bread, sliding it into the toaster, then sliced a few strawberries and apples, arranging them neatly on a small plate.
"She’ll like this," I murmured aloud, though it wasn’t really to myself.
My wolf stirred inside me, restless. "She deserves more than this. She deserves the world. You saw her last night—how fragile she was after the dream. We should never let her out of our sight."
I clenched my jaw lightly as I stirred the eggs, lowering the flame. "I know. But we can’t cage her, either. She needs freedom. Space."
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