Chapter 16 - Rick
The suite was quiet, mercifully so. Heavy drapes muffled the noise from the street below, and the lamps glowed soft and golden against the carved mahogany furniture.
Rick carried Eva in his arms, her head tucked into the crook of his neck, her curls spilling across his collar. She was already half-asleep, but she roused just enough when he laid her gently on the hotel bed.
“Papa?” she mumbled, voice drowsy.
“I’m here, sweetheart.” He crouched, tugging the covers up around her shoulders.
Her lashes fluttered, and she blinked owlishly at him. “Was it…was it fighting?”
Rick hesitated. The question struck him harder than any alpha’s barbed words. “It was just arguing,” he said carefully, “No one fought.”
“But everyone was loud.”
“Yes.” He smoothed the blanket over her chest. “Sometimes alphas bark more than they bite.”
Eva considered that, then yawned so wide he caught a glimpse of the little gap where her tooth had been lost. “They sounded like they wanted to bite.”
Rick huffed softly. “Maybe. But I didn’t let them.”
She smiled faintly at that, pride flickering even through her sleepiness, “You’re strong.”
The words landed heavier than they should have.
He wasn’t sure if she understood what kind of strength he wielded, how it frightened even his closest allies, how it kept people so distant.
Yet in her eyes, he was simply Papa. Protector, unmovable, unshakeable.
He prayed she would never see the cracks.
Eva reached for him, small fingers curling around his, “Papa?”
“Yes?”
“Is Rosalia near?”
He stilled. “Yes. She’s just next door.”
“Good,” Eva’s eyes drooped, voice a whisper. “I like her.”
Something tugged sharply at his chest, and he bent to press a kiss against her curls. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll be close.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
She sighed, burrowing deeper into the blankets. Within moments, her breathing evened, soft and steady.
Rick sat there longer than he needed to, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the way the light caught on her lashes. There were a few moments in his life when he felt anything like peace. This…this small, fragile warmth was one of them.
At last, he rose silently, easing the door shut behind him.
***
He found Rosalia at the writing desk in her room, bent over crisp stationery.
Her hair tumbled loose over her shoulders, her emerald dress folded neatly over the back of a chair, leaving her in a plain shift of ivory silk.
She looked almost like a girl again, pen poised delicately between her fingers, lips pursed as she searched for words.
He leaned against the doorframe, watching. For a moment, he let himself simply look. The elegant line of her neck, the flicker of concentration in her moss-colored eyes, the faint crease between her brows.
“Rosalia,” he said at last, his voice low enough not to wake Eva through the wall.
Rosalia startled, turning quickly. A flush rose to her cheeks. “Rick! I…I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “Why not?”
She studied him then, pen still between her fingers. “You’re angry.”
It wasn’t a question.
Rick exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. He crossed to the window, tugging the drape aside to look out at the city lights. “The Black Claws called me out. They knew everything. Every move I’d made, every plan I’d laid. Gone in an instant. Months of work, wasted.”
He felt her gaze on his back but pressed on, voice sharp, “I’d planned for it, of course. I knew they’d sniff around eventually. No laws were broken. Nothing can be pinned. But it doesn’t matter. The moment is gone. We’ve lost the advantage.”
Rosalia’s voice was soft, but steady. “You did your best.”
Rick barked a laugh, humorless. “You sound like Felix.”
“Maybe Felix is right.”
He turned then, fixing her with a look. “Right? He tells me to cool off while those bastards are laughing into their drinks, congratulating themselves because they think they’ve outmaneuvered me. They think I’m losing my edge.”
Her eyes did not waver. “Why does it matter what they think?”
“Perception is everything,” he growled, biting each syllable, “a lesson I’d think you know better than anyone.”
Her eyes grew slightly frosty. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He considered her a moment before sighing and crossing the room, placing his hands on her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her head. She rose, turning in his arms, resting them against him chest. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
Her eyebrows rose nearly to her hairline, “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you use the word sorry.”
With a slightly pained grin, he pressed a kiss to her lips, “It’s been known to happen on occasion.”
“I know this is frustrating,” she said after a beat, chewing her lower lip, “but think of it this way. The Black Claws are going to declare war one way or another. And while things may not have gone exactly to plan, I’d be willing to bet the other packs will hesitate before even thinking of joining them against you.
You nearly defeated them on a contract’s technicality. ”
He sighed, eyes narrowing. “They’ll think it’s petty. Desperate. It was always a risk.”
“They won’t,” said Rosalia, “at least, the smart ones won’t. The smart ones will be wondering what you’ve got against them.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And the stupid ones?”
She laughed, poking him in the chest. “They’ll be too scared of your tone of voice to even begin worrying about the words you use.”
He didn’t respond, his chest tightening at the honesty in her words, the unquestioning faith. Something in his gaze must have shown his raw emotion, because she softened into him, reaching up to cup his jaw. “They haven’t won, Rick. They’ve only delayed you.”
Rick stared at her, at this woman who had been thrust into his world against her will, who had every reason to cower, and yet had found the strength to stand firm at his side. “How are you calm about this?”
“Not calm,” she corrected softly, “just…practiced. I learned a lot from my father’s rage. And my own.”
Her father. John Heath, spitting venom in the lobby, delighting in her fear. Rick’s jaw tightened at the memory.
“I should’ve ripped his throat out,” he muttered.
Rosalia flinched, just barely, but then her chin lifted. “If you had, it would’ve been exactly what he wanted. He’d have turned it against you.”
Rick growled, “When will you let me kill him?”
“Not tonight,” she said wryly. “I don’t fancy getting dressed again.”
For a long moment, they stood in quiet, the city’s hum muffled by thick glass, Eva’s steady breathing faint through the wall.
“She’s so brave,” Rosalia said quietly, resting her head against his chest. “I’m glad she can sleep after all that.” She glanced at him then, eyes searching his face, “She takes after you.”
Rick stilled, every defense rising at once. Compliments made him wary; he’d learned long ago they often hid daggers. But Rosalia’s voice carried no guile, no angle. Just an open invitation.
His throat felt rough. “She’s better than me.”
“No.” Rosalia shook her head, strands of dark hair catching the lamplight. “She is you. The best parts of you. She sees the world as safe because you make it so.”
He looked away, swallowing hard. The words scraped something raw inside him, something he hadn’t let himself touch in years.
“I can’t afford to fail her,” he said finally.
“You won’t,” Rosalia replied, certain as stone.
Her certainty unnerved him more than her father’s venom, more than the Black Claws’ mockery. Because a part of him wanted to believe it.
He leaned back, letting his eyes close briefly. “I’m tired.”
“So rest,” she murmured. “For tonight, let it go.”
Rick opened his eyes again, meeting hers. Something in her gaze caught him, steady, unafraid, the faintest spark of warmth beneath her careful mask.
For the first time in too long, he felt the edge of his fury soften.
The room was quiet but charged, every tick of the clock on the mantel drawing them deeper into something neither dared name.
But with Eva in the next room, and his ebbing temper leaving nothing but exhaustion in its wake, he knew that he would have to give in to sleep.
“Come,” he said, stroking her cheek, “let’s go to bed.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “Together?”
Chuckling, he pulled her closer. There was heat in his actions, for sure. But not the kind that promised seduction. Not even the kind designed to initiate passion. Just simple warmth. “If that’s okay?”
Her cheeks pinked as a small smile curved across her lips. “I’d like that.”
He nudged her towards the bed, unbuttoning his suit jacket to drape it across the chair. As he did, his eyes drifted across the loose sheets of paper, the elegant swirl of Rosalia’s handwriting.
And his eye caught the ink.
His name. Clear as day.
Rick.
Every muscle in his body went taut. He reached out, plucking the page up, his eyes roaming across the page. Rosalia startled, moving towards him, hand outstretched—
But it was too late.
…things didn’t go well at the Accord meetings today, unfortunately. Remember that plan of his I told you about? The Black Claws caught wind of it. A shame, really, but I know he’ll sort things out. He’s so clever…
“What’s this?” His voice was low, dangerous, as his hand tightened around the paper, wrinkling it in his fist.
“Rick—”
“Don’t.” His eyes scanned the lines, the implication clear as day. “You wrote about me,” he said, turning on her, the paper crackling in his grip. “About my plans. How much did you tell her?”
Rosalia’s face paled, and she didn’t answer.
“Rosalia. How much?”
She gulped, her pulse jumping, her eyes wide, “She…she’s my friend—”
“Your friend?” His laugh was sharp, cruel, “Your friend lives in Green Mountain Pack. Under your father’s thumb. Do you think letters aren’t intercepted? Do you think he doesn’t know every word you’ve sent?”
Rosalia stepped forward, shaking her head fiercely, “No. No, Katie would never—”
“You trust her with your life?” His lip curled, “And what about mine? What about Eva’s? Did you trust her with that as well?”
Her breath caught, tears shimmering in her eyes, “I would never hurt Eva. I would never hurt you.”
But the words only fanned his fury. Betrayal burned in his gut, bitter and choking. He had let her close, closer than anyone in years, and now this? This was how she repaid him? By bleeding his secrets onto parchment and sending them into the hands of whomever might read them?
“From the start,” he hissed, stepping closer, “this was your plan, wasn’t it? To gain my trust. To sit at my side and listen, and then feed it all back to Green Mountain. To your father.”
“No!” Rosalia flinched, recoiling as though struck, “You don’t understand. Katie is not my father. She’s all I had. She is—she is—” Her voice broke, and she pressed a trembling hand to her mouth.
Rick advanced another step, his wolf snarling inside him. “She is a weakness. And you’ve made me weak through her.”
Rosalia’s eyes shone with desperation. “Listen to me, please! Katie is nothing like him. She hates him. She hates everything he’s done to me. She would die before she betrayed me. She would die before she betrayed you.”
“Do you hear yourself?” His voice cracked like a whip.
“You admit you’ve told her things you shouldn’t have, and you expect me to believe it’s safe?
That your childhood friend is somehow immune to the pressure of alphas?
That she cannot be turned? That your father won’t use her the way he used you? ”
Rosalia’s shoulders shook, but she stood her ground, chin trembling yet lifted. “Because I know her. Better than anyone. She is the one person in this world who has never hurt me. Not once. She’s not like us. She doesn’t play games, she doesn’t lie, she doesn’t…she doesn’t take. She gives. Always.”
The passion in her voice struck him, almost disarmed him. Almost. But the image of his name scrawled across her page burned too vividly in his mind.
“You expect me to gamble my pack, my daughter, on your certainty?” His voice was cold now, colder than it had ever been with her, “You expect me to believe that your fragile notions of friendship matter more than this war?”
Rosalia shook her head desperately, “No, not notions…it’s the truth! I kept myself alive all those years because of her. I endured because I knew at least one person in this world loved me without condition. I shared things with her because I had to, Rick. Because if I didn’t, I would shatter.”
Her voice cracked. Tears slipped free, streaking down her pale cheeks. “But never…never anything that would hurt you. I swear it. I swear it on my life. On Eva’s life.”
Something twisted hard in his chest at the sound of his daughter’s name on her lips. But fury drowned it, scorching everything in its path.
“Swear all you like,” he snarled, crumpling the letter in his fist, “your words mean nothing if they’ve already reached ears they shouldn’t.”
Her breath hitched, her eyes going wide with anguish. “You don’t believe me.”
“I can’t.”
The silence that followed was heavier than any roar. Rosalia stood trembling before him, her hands clutched at her chest as though to hold herself together. The lamplight caught the diamonds at her throat, glimmering like tears.
Rick turned away, his wolf pacing just beneath his skin, furious, betrayed, aching in a way he did not want to name.
Behind him, Rosalia whispered, broken, “I would never hurt you.”
But he was too blinded to hear it.