Derek was still speaking when he looked down and realised Kira had fallen asleep against his chest.
Her breathing had gone slow and even, her hand still loosely curled in the front of his shirt. A small, tired smile tugged at his lips. He slowly laid her down on the sofa, careful not to wake her.
For a long moment he just watched her, tracing a gentle finger over her eyebrows, smoothing the faint worry line that had formed there.
"You’re far too beautiful for my peace of mind," he murmured.
She didn’t stir.
His security had been breached tonight for the first time since he took Dravengard. By rights, he should be sitting her down and asking her hard questions. Where she had been. Who she had spoken to. Whether she knew anything. That was what the King in him demanded.
Instead he was choosing to trust her.
"Goddess help me, I am choosing to trust you, Kira."
He slid his arms under her again, lifted her easily, and carried her upstairs, cradling her close to his chest like she was something precious he was afraid to drop.
She stirred once, murmuring something sleepy, but settled back against him without waking. Derek’s heart picked up race.
After tucking her carefully into their bed and pulling the blanket up to her chin, he stood there for another minute, just looking at her peaceful face. Then he turned and went in search of Declan.
He found his beta on the roof, standing at the edge and staring out into the night like the darkness owed him answers.
Derek walked over and stood beside him in silence. The cool breeze tugged at their clothes, but neither man spoke for a long while.
Declan finally glanced sideways. "Is everything alright?"
Derek gave a short nod. "Did you contact Aunt Angelica and Tan?"
"Yes," Declan said. "They’re on their way."
They stood in silence for a while, the night air cool around them, the kingdom quiet below after all the noise of the evening.
Declan exhaled. "You good?"
"What did you say to my wife?"
Declan kept looking straight ahead into the dark. "What did your wife tell you I said?"
"Don’t play games with me, Declan," Derek hissed.
Declan let out a long sigh and finally faced him. "I didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know."
Derek’s jaw tightened. "Watch yourself, Declan. Don’t make me forget our friendship."
Declan let out a low, mocking chuckle.
Derek’s lip curled, his beast stirring under his skin, and it took effort to hold Leo back.
"Of course," Declan said. "Push away everyone who’s ever genuinely cared about you. That’s the plan, isn’t it? As long as you can keep dancing to whatever tune your bloody wife is playing."
Derek moved fast. He grabbed Declan by the collar and yanked him close, teeth bared. "Watch your fucking tongue."
Declan didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. "Go on, then," he said calmly. "Do your worst. You can force me to stop saying it out loud, but you can’t stop me from feeling how I want to feel, Derek."
Derek held him there, breathing hard.



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