Chapter 63: HAS SHE ASKED ABOUT ME?

Lucian’s POV

The large wooden desk in the private office of our western territory was covered with reports, agreements, and pack records. Outside the wide window, the sun was beginning to rise, casting a soft golden light over the tall pine trees.

I leaned back in the leather chair and rubbed the bridge of my nose as I looked through another patrol report. For the past three days, I had buried myself in work, forcing my mind to focus on pack problems, supplies, and money. Anything to keep myself busy. Anything to stop myself from thinking about the mansion I had left behind.

Alpha Lucian.

Leo’s voice echoed sharply through our mind-link, cutting through my concentration. I paused, my pen hovering over the paper.

What is it, Leo?

Princess Annabel refused the allowance.

My hand went completely still. I set the pen down on the desk, my brows drawing together.

She refused it?

Yes, Alpha, Leo replied, his tone cautious. I went to her room this morning with the transfer details as you asked. She explicitly said she does not want your upkeep. She told me she was fine without it.

Did she give a reason?

No. She simply refused and closed the door.

I stared at the papers in front of me without seeing a single word written on them.

Fine. Leave her alone.

Understood.

The mind-link went silent, but my concentration went with it. I leaned back against the chair, staring blankly at the dark wood of the desk as a familiar frustration settled in my chest. She hadn’t given a reason, but I didn’t need one. I knew exactly why she had turned down the money.

It was because of the morning I left.

My mind slipped backward, returning to the moment I opened my eyes three days ago. The early morning light had been just beginning to slip through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. Annabel was curled against me, her head resting on my chest, her dark hair scattered messily across my skin. One of her arms lay across my stomach, and her breathing was slow and peaceful. For a long time, I hadn’t moved. I had simply stayed there in the quiet room, watching her sleep.

And that was where the problem began.

I hadn’t regretted sleeping with her. Not for a single second. That would have made everything much easier. I hadn’t regretted kissing her or telling her that I wanted her because, drunk or not, every word had been true. I had wanted her. I still did.

But that wasn’t what had made me leave her bed before she woke.

It was how comfortable I had felt lying beside her. I had actually wanted to stay there, wrap my arm tighter around her waist, and pull her closer. There was a strange sense of peace in lying beside her, a feeling I hadn’t experienced in years.

For one dangerous moment, my mind had wandered somewhere it had no business going. I had imagined what it would be like if waking up beside her became normal. Not once because I had been drinking. Not because something had happened between us the night before. Just waking beside her every morning because that was where she belonged.

That thought had gotten me out of the bed faster than anything else could have.

I knew what this marriage was supposed to be. The treaty had been signed to end a brutal war. Annabel was Kenneth’s daughter, sent to my pack as part of an agreement meant to keep both sides from tearing each other apart again. I had never planned on caring about her. I had never planned on looking at her as anything more than the daughter of my enemy. So before I walked out of that bedroom three days ago, I dragged my walls back up, locked everything I had felt the night before somewhere deep inside me, and became the man I understood again.

Then she had asked me about the night before. She didn’t say the exact words, but I saw the question in her eyes.

Instead of telling her the truth, instead of admitting how badly she was messing with my head, I gave her the coldest answer I could.

"We are husband and wife. Having sex is normal."

The second those words left my mouth, I saw the change in her expression. The warmth in her eyes disappeared, replaced by hurt before she quickly hid it from me. I knew I had hurt her, and still, I hadn’t corrected myself. I could have told her that what happened between us hadn’t felt normal to me at all. I could have told her that I had wanted her long before that night. Instead, I had remained silent, told her I was leaving, and then somehow managed to make the entire situation worse by mentioning the allowance.

Now, sitting hundreds of miles away in my office, irritation washed over me. I had arranged the monthly allowance with Leo before I ever stepped foot into her bed. It had nothing to do with what happened between us. Whatever I thought about our marriage, Annabel was living under my roof. She shouldn’t have needed to ask me every time she wanted something.

But she didn’t know that.

From her point of view, I had slept with her, dismissed what happened the next morning, then practically told her I was going to start sending her money.

Fuck.

No wonder she had refused it.

I opened my mouth to mind-link Leo again, intending to tell him to explain that the money had already been arranged beforehand, but I stopped myself.

Why the hell did I care so much about what she thought?

I leaned back, rubbing a hand over my face. It was becoming ridiculous. I had been making excuses for weeks, finding a reason for every single thing I did when it came to her. When I dragged her out of the flooding pit, I told myself it was my responsibility. When I went back for the ribbon she had nearly died trying to find, I told myself I simply didn’t want her doing something stupid for it again. When she needed money, I made sure she received it even after refusing her to her face. Then there was the Forbidden Forest. The pool. Every time Lucas stood too close to her, talked to her, or looked at her for too long, something ugly twisted inside me.

I had blamed all of it on the fact that she was technically my wife, but the excuses were running thin, and I knew it.

Three days and hundreds of miles should have been enough to clear my head. Instead, I was still thinking about a woman who was supposed to mean nothing to me. Somewhere along the way, Kenneth’s daughter had stopped being simply the woman I was forced to marry. She had gotten under my skin, and allowing myself to care about her created problems I couldn’t afford to deal with.

My mind immediately went to Lillian. I could picture my little sister lying motionless in bed, her body still fighting the damage Kenneth had caused. Months had passed, and she still hadn’t opened her eyes. He had pulled that trigger and nearly destroyed my family.

I knew Annabel hadn’t done any of it. She hadn’t shot Lillian or started the war, but every time I looked at her, the history between our families was still there. How was I supposed to forget what her father had done and allow myself to care about his daughter?

I am not my father.

Her voice returned to me. I remembered the tears in her eyes when she stopped me on the staircase. I remembered her telling me that she had never supported the war, that she hadn’t even known what Kenneth had done to Lillian until recently.

She was right, and that was the part I didn’t like admitting. Annabel wasn’t Kenneth. She wasn’t responsible for her father’s actions, and punishing her for his crimes wouldn’t change what happened to Lillian.

But Kenneth wasn’t the only wall standing between us.

There was someone else.

A memory I had carried with me for years. A woman I had spent far too long searching for to simply forget because Annabel had somehow gotten under my skin. I had promised myself I wouldn’t stop looking, and I couldn’t throw years of searching away now.

And yet, for the first time, a question entered my mind that I had never allowed myself to ask before.

What would happen if I finally found the woman I had been searching for?

Because Annabel was already here.

I immediately pushed the thought away. No. I wasn’t going there.

I stood abruptly and walked toward the window, staring out at the endless line of trees surrounding the territory. Staying away was supposed to make things easier, yet I had spent the last three days wondering whether she had eaten, whether she was still angry with me, and whether her fever had completely disappeared.

And why the hell was I wondering whether she missed me?

I scowled at the trees outside. That last thought was particularly pathetic.

I returned to my desk and picked up my pen, forcing my attention back to the border patrol logs. Work. That was what I needed to focus on. Not Annabel. Not what had happened between us. And definitely not whether she missed me.

I read the first line, then read it again. Five minutes passed. Then ten.

With a low curse, I tossed the pen onto the desk.

Leo.

The response came almost immediately.

Yes, Alpha?

I hesitated, already irritated with myself for what I was about to ask.

How is she?

There was a short pause.

Princess Annabel?

My jaw tightened.

Who else would I be asking about?

She seems fine, Alpha. I only saw her briefly this morning. She stayed in her room for most of yesterday, but she was walking in the garden last night. She seems to be recovering well from her fever.

I should have been relieved that she was feeling better. I should have ended the mind-link right there and returned to work, but instead, I wanted to know more. I wanted to know whether my absence had affected her at all or whether she was perfectly happy with me gone.

Has she...

I stopped myself.

For fuck’s sake.

Alpha?

I clenched my jaw before forcing the question out.

Has she asked about me?

Silence filled the mind-link.

One second. Two. Three.

Leo didn’t answer, and suddenly, asking the question felt like the stupidest thing I had done all week.

No, Alpha.

The answer came eventually, short and painfully clear.

I stared at the wall for a few seconds, feeling more disappointed than I had any right to be. What exactly had I expected? For her to spend those three days asking Leo when I was coming home?

I ended the mind-link before Leo could say anything else and released a long sigh. Leaning back in my chair, I ran both hands over my face.

This was getting worse. Apparently, I didn’t like Annabel giving me the same space I had demanded from her. I wanted distance, but I also wanted her to notice that I was gone.

Fuck. When had I become this complicated?

I pushed myself out of the chair and walked toward the window again. For several seconds, I simply stood there, staring at the trees while trying to convince myself that Leo’s answer didn’t bother me.

It did.

More than it should have.

My first thought was to return home.

The idea came so quickly that I almost laughed at myself. Three days ago, I had practically run from that mansion because waking up beside Annabel had scared the hell out of me. Now all it took was hearing that she hadn’t asked about me, and suddenly I wanted to teleport back there?

Absolutely not. I still had work to finish, and I refused to return home simply because my pride had been wounded.

I turned away from the window and walked back to my desk. This time, I forced myself into the chair, picked up the next report, and started reading.

Annabel was fine.

That was all I needed to know.