Chapter 6
· King Soren ·
My mother did not take the news of postponing the wedding well. She was furious, because now she needs to rearrange things, however she is excited at the thought of me changing Bree beforehand. She believes if Bree is already changed, we won’t have to worry too much about the media.
The sun filters through the heavy drapes of my office, casting a golden hue across the polished wooden desk.
I cradle the phone between my shoulder and ear, my fingers tapping rhythmically against the surface as I listen intently.
“No, we can’t push the treaty negotiations back any further,” I say, my voice steady but firm.
Rhett is going to start a pack war. His men attacked the other pack at the docks, I never should have granted him the extension.
I catch movement from the corner of my eye just as I’m about to respond to the Alpha who’s frantically speaking in my ear that he needs more time.
Damian steps into the room, his brow furrowed in concern.
I hold up a finger, signaling him to wait.
My focus wavers for just a moment, and I feel the tension crackle in the air like static.
“Yes, I understand, but the negotiations are going ahead. Your men are not to step foot on those docks!” I pause, my attention shifting fully to Damian’s expression. He looks different today, alert and probing. A flicker of unease stirs within me.
“Mother said the wedding isn’t going ahead,” he interrupts, his voice low and cautious. “I heard her snarling at one of the servants.”
I take a deep breath, trying to maintain my composure as I nod slightly, dismissing the call with a final “I’ll speak to you later” before hanging up. I set the phone down, steeling myself for whatever confrontation lies ahead.
“Damian,” I begin, my tone measured, “this isn’t the time—”
My heart races, but I keep my expression neutral, he’s going to be furious. “It’s complicated.”
“Complicated? Or are you finally seeing sense?”
Damian presses, taking a step closer. “About damn—” I growl.
“The wedding is still going ahead; I want to change her first.”
He stops, his face twisting into a snarl. “Excuse me?”
“It’s no longer a sham, I’m marrying Bree.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Good one, I almost believed you.”
“Wait, you aren’t being serious. You’re not really going to marry that girl?”
“Yesterday you were encouraging me to fuck her and now?” I ask him.
“Hoping to get her out of your system. You’re putting Max at risk by even considering this. We have no idea who she really is.”
“Enough!” I snap, the authority in my voice echoing off the walls. Damian flinches, but I can’t let him see how much his words affect me. “You don’t understand the situation.”
“Then make me understand why you would be so fucking reckless with your son’s life and yours!
” he demands, unyielding. His worry is understandable, yet right now, it feels suffocating.
“Bree could be hiding anything. Secrets that could endanger our family, our kingdom. You need to think properly about this, Soren.”
“Properly?” I scoff, my hands clenching into fists on the desk.
“I’ve done nothing but think about this.
I’ve seen the way she is with Max, he adores her and so do Mom and Dad.
She is no monster. If she meant us harm she had plenty of opportunities, Damian, you’re being ridiculous.
What has she done to anyone here to warrant this hatred you have for her? ”
“I don’t hate her… I don’t fucking know her and neither do you!” Damian shakes his head, frustration etched across his face.
“I know her well enough!”
“You’re risking everything for a woman we barely know! What if she has a hidden agenda? What if she puts Max in danger?”
“Max is safe here! Safe with her!” My voice rises, anger flaring.
He shakes his head, pacing now, frustration radiating off him like heat from a flame. “We don’t know who she really is! She could have ties to enemies we haven’t even considered.”
“Enemies?” I scoff, the word bitter on my tongue. “You’re being paranoid, Damian. Yes, she has a past, but she’s not a threat.”
He stops abruptly, incredulity flooding his features.
He goes to argue more when I speak over him.
“Need I remind you I wouldn’t be getting married if it weren’t for you, you had to run your mouth to Mom!
” I step closer, closing the distance between us, my heart pounding in my chest. “I never intended for any of this to happen, but it has. I’ve tried to fight it, it’s impossible.
I care about her, and this wedding—is no longer a sham. I will marry her.”
“This isn’t just about your mixed feelings, Soren! It’s about your safety, not to mention the field day the media will have and the council; you know the issues this will create.”
“What I feel for her… it’s real. And I won’t deny it because of political consequences or because you’re scared of her.”
“I don’t fear her, Soren. I fear for you and your son.”
The silence stretches, and I can see the wheels turning in my brother’s mind, the shock palpable when he stops his pacing abruptly. “You love her.” It’s a statement, not a question.
Damian’s expression falters, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “You love her.”
“Yes,” I confess, my voice falling softer, laced with vulnerability. “And I will marry her.”
We stand there, the silence thick between us, both breathing heavily.
Damian pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re making a mistake, brother. This is going to come back and bite you on the fucking ass.”
“It won’t; now get out of my office. I won’t listen to your nonsense anymore.”
· · ·
The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the castle gardens by the time I can leave my office to find Max and Bree.
Laughter dances in the air as Bree and Max play.
Max squeals with delight, his laughter soaring higher than the swing he’s on.
Bree leans forward, her hair catching the light, the fading colors of it, showing the blonde beneath, making me wonder why she dyes it.
I can tell by the golden hue her natural hair is beautiful, not that I mind the colors, though my mother has commented on them a few times.
She laughs and pushes him gently. Every shove sends Max flying into the air, arms outstretched, face alight with joy.
I step closer, resting my hands on the wooden frame of the swingset. The earthy scent of freshly cut grass envelops me as Bree looks over to smile at me. “I was wondering when you would come looking for us. He’s been asking for you.” Bree tells me.
“Look at me, Dad! I’m flying!” Max beams, kicking his legs wildly in mid-air, his blue eyes sparkling with pure glee.
“Just don’t fly too high, or you might take off!” I tease.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see him—Damian. He strides across the grass, papers clutched tightly in his hand, his expression taut and his pace quick. My heart drops.
“Great,” I mutter under my breath. The last thing I want is another confrontation with my brother while Max and Bree are here. I straighten, forcing myself to remain calm, even as Damian approaches with purpose. The tension in his posture tells me he isn’t here for casual conversation.
“Max, why don’t you show Bree how high you can swing?” I suggest, hoping to divert his attention.
Max nods eagerly, oblivious to the sudden shift in atmosphere. Bree flashes me a questioning look but says nothing. I step aside, moving toward Damian, who stands at the edge of the garden like an unwelcome storm cloud.
“What is it?”
He thrusts the papers forward, and I catch a glimpse of official seals and printed text. “The council couldn’t find any record of Brielle,” he says, his tone clipped. “Not even after an extensive search, she doesn’t exist.”
My stomach tightens. I glance back at Bree and Max, their laughter ringing clear, behind us.
“Are you still sure you’re not making a mistake?” he presses, and I can hear the underlying doubt in his voice.
A knot forms in my chest. I scan the document, my eyes darting over the bureaucratic language, the cold reality sinking in. My pulse quickens with unease.
He leans closer, his face grim. “She could be hiding something. You need to consider that.”
“She has to be more than just a ghost,” I add, my mind racing with questions about Bree’s past, the secrets that cloud her identity. What lies beneath the surface? Who was she before she stumbled into our lives?
“Maybe,” Damian shoots back, crossing his arms, “but we can’t ignore what the council says.”
Anger flares within me, hot and quick. I want to defend Bree, the warmth she brings to our lives. “Bree isn’t a threat,” I reply firmly.
“We can’t ignore the facts. If the records don’t show her… what does that mean? She’s hiding something, she’s lying to you.”
The weight of the situation settles in my chest like a stone. “You need to find out who she is. Fucking command her if you have to.” I can see the worry etched on his face, the same protective instinct that drives me. “Before it’s too late.”
I nod slowly, torn between wanting to trust Bree and the gnawing question of her past. What secrets does she hold? I glance at the documents again, feeling the edges of my resolve fray.
“Let’s talk about this later,” I finally say.
Damian relents, though I can see the skepticism lingering in his eyes. We turn back to find Bree gently setting Max down from the swing, her kind smile returning as she kneels beside him.
“Hey, what do you say we play a game?” Bree suggests, her voice brightening the air again. She clasps her hands together, drawing Max’s attention away from us.
“Yeah! Can we play tag?” he chirps, bouncing on the balls of his feet, full of youthful energy.
“Tag it is!”
“Dad are you playing?” Max sings out and I force a smile on my lips, shoving the documents at Damian.
“I’ll be right over,” I tell him.
“Soren!” Damian hisses.
“Later, right now I’m playing with my son.”