Chapter 72
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Chapter 72
ALEXANDER
I had long grown used to the silence. Silence was where I thrived, where I could focus, analyze, and plan without distraction. Yet tonight… the silence wasn’t empty.
It was filled with her presence.
Faye sat on the couch a few feet away, her posture straight, a book balanced across her lap. Strands of hair slipping from behind her ear as she studied the words like they might hold the answer to everything we were looking for. She was earnest, and I knew better than anyone how pointless it was.
I knew every single one of those books, cover to cover. I had read most of them twice over. My father had made sure of that. Before I was old enough to lead, before I even understood what leading truly meant, I was forced to memorize the histories, the traditions, the treaties, the ancient laws. I could recite the lineage of more than half the packs in the country, trace our bloodlines back through centuries of war and uneasy alliances. And if those books contained anything remotely useful to this situation–a wolf with three eye–I would’ve known already.
But when she’d offered, when her voice softened and her eyes shone with that mixture of determination and vulnerability, I couldn’t bring myself to stop her. She knew I was likely going to refuse her help, yet she asked anyway.
Part of me had wanted to tell her outright: It’s useless. You won’t find anything. Not in those books. But the words had stayed lodged in my throat.
Because the truth was… I didn’t want her to stop.
There was something about her presence, something I still didn’t fully understand. Faye brought with her a kind of peace I hadn’t felt in years. Not since before my father’s death. Not since before life experience and leadership had hardened me into this–this machine that had no room for softness, for laughter, for warmth. She didn’t strip the burden away from me exactly, but when she was around, the weight didn’t feel quite as heavy.
I should’ve pushed her away. I should’ve kept the boundaries intact. But when she offered to stay, I knew I wasn’t going to. If searching through a few useless tomes was what it took to keep her here longer, then so be it.
Every now and then, she’d speak up, her voice carrying softly through the room.
“This says something about the first blood oath between packs. Did you ever read this one p>
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i’d answer with a short “Yes,” and she’d nod thoughtfully, eyes back to the page.
Or, “What does this mean–marked in the shadow of the crescent”
To explain, briefly. Not too much, just enough. Then I’d return to the computer, though my focus was split now, part of me pulled in her direction with every word she spoke.
Time passed like that, the quiet broken by her small questions, and by the occasional rustle of pages. It was… strange, but not in a bad way.
Eventually, she stood, brushing her hands down the sides of her sweater, and walked to the shelf again. She scanned the spines, lips pursed in thought, then pulled one out only to flip through and frown.
This one’s just about Blood Crescent history, ” she said, holding it up as though to prove her point. “I think I need something broader. Maybe one that covers more packs, more regions. Something beyond our borders p>
I didn’t answer her. My mind was still half in my computer even though my eyes were on her. She turned back toward me, tilting her head, her brows lifting in mock impatience.
“Are you going to recommend one,” she asked, “or are you just going to sit there and enjoy
the show? ”
A surprised breath left me, almost a laugh. I looked up fully and saw the spark in her eyes, that hint of playful challenge. My lips curved, against my will, into a small smile. She was trying to tease me. Retaliating, no doubt, for the remark I’d thrown at her earlier about checking me out from the doorway.
I pushed away from the desk and stood, walking over to where she stood at the shelf. Her gaze followed me. I scanned the books briefly, even though I already knew them all, and pulled one from the middle row. Wordlessly, I handed it to her.
She raised a brow. “And you’re sure this one covers a wider range p>
I just met her eyes steadily, letting silence be my response. Did she really think I didn’t know about the books?
She made a face, half amused, half confused. “You know, I’m starting to think you’ve never actually opened half these books. For all I know, you’re just picking them at random p>
Still, I didn’t argue. I didn’t need to, she’d see soon enough. That book would keep her occupied for a while. And if she wanted to think I was clueless for the sake of her own
amusement, I’d allow it.
I returned to my desk, sinking back into the chair, fingers resuming their rhythm on the keys.
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But it was harder now to concentrate. Every few minutes, I found my gaze drifting. Watching her as she flipped pages, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lips pressed together.
She was… different, in this moment. Not the Luna the pack was still struggling to accept. Not the woman thrust into my life by circumstance and necessity. Just Faye. Earnest, curious, stubborn enough to sit here with me in the dead of night.
At some point, the silence stretched longer than before. No questions, no remarks, no sound of turning pages. It pulled my attention back sharply.
I looked up from the computer.
And there she was.
Faye had curled into the corner of the couch, one leg tucked beneath her, the book still half–open in her hand. Her head had tipped to the side, resting against the armrest. Her eyes were closed, lashes fanning against her skin, her breathing soft and even.
She had fallen sleep.
A small huff of breath escaped me, something between amusement and disbelief. Of course she had fallen asleep. The sight before me–her hand still loosely clutching the book like she’d intended to keep reading until the last second–was the cutest, and frankly the funniest, thing I’d seen in longer than I cared to remember.
I leaned back in my chair, letting myself watch for a moment longer than I should’ve. There was something about the way she looked so peaceful, so unguarded, that twisted something in my chest.
Quietly, I shut down the computer.
I stood, moving silently across the room. For a moment, I crouched beside the couch, intending to wake her. My hand hovered just above her shoulder. One word, one gentle touch, and she’d stir, apologize, and leave for her room.
But I didn’t…something stopped me.
Instead, I carefully slid the book from her slack fingers, placing it on the table nearby. Then I adjusted her gently, guiding her to lay more comfortably along the couch. She shifted only slightly, murmuring something incoherent in her sleep, before settling again.
I straightened, but I didn’t walk away.
Instead, I returned to the chair opposite and sat. My eyes lingered on her sleeping form, the steady rise and fall of her chest.
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I should’ve reminded myself that this–whatever this was– was dangerous. That she wasn’t meant to be more than the Luna circumstances had placed at my side, a rote the pack had yet to even accept.
But in that quiet, watching her sleep, I allowed myself the indulgence of simply… being here.
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