Chapter 155
Deacon’s POV
The night breeze was cold, but it did nothing to case the weight pressing on my chest as I approached the porch, where Elena was sitting with her back to me.
“Elena,” I said, my voice lower than I intended, yet sounded heavy with an emotion I couldn’t yet explain.
She looked up at me, startled at first, but then her expression softened when she realised that it was me.
At first, there was excitement in her eyes, but then, after searching my face for a while, she stood up in a hurry, looking alert as she sensed the tension on my face.
“Deacon?” she called out with that worry in her tone that warmed my heart. “What’s wrong?”
Before I could speak, Zara appeared from behind the doorway, grinning as she spotted us together.
A little giggle even escaped her lips. “Ah, I see. Prince Deacon is here to whisk our Princess away for the Moon Festival! How romantic.”
I tried to force a smile from her joke, but it felt wrong.
My mind was elsewhere.
I cleared my throat, thinking of what to say that wouldn’t sound offensive on her obviously friendly remark, but nothing was surfacing in my mind.
Luckily, before a long, dead air spread around us, footsteps echoed in.
Seeing how Elena and Zara were staring at me, waiting for something, Elena’s Beta, Jayden, realised the situation and kindly intervened.
Thankfully, I had run into him earlier on the driveways and had already briefed him on what’s happening.
“Zara, come help me pack. We need to prepare the Princess’s bags. We’re leaving for Blackridge City tonight.”
Zara blinked in confusion. “Pack? Tonight? What-”
“Just come on,” Jayden urged gently and pulled her despite her small struggles and her constant look in our
direction.
Once they were gone, I managed a sigh and looked back at Elena, who just stood up from where she was sitting, brushing imaginary dust from her dress.
With a step forward, she looked at me with a question and worry. “Deacon… What’s going on? Why are we leaving?”
I exhaled slowly, trying to steady my thoughts.
The image of the boy whose features resembled hers flashed in my mind again. But unlike her elegant look, that boy had wild hair, dirt–smudged cheeks, and fierce eyes that reminded me too much of someone I had only seen in faded photos and family portraits.
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“On my way back from Custodes, I ran into… a situation,” I began, my voice tight and a little hesitant as I didn’t know the best way to throw the news at her.
Taking another deep breath, I continued, “At first, I thought it was just another Rogue attack. All of a sudden, someone moved with agility and came towards me. I thought he was targeting me.”
Elena stiffened. “He? Who was it?”
Her eyes then widened, and she closed the gap between us, hands roaming around my arms and looking at my limbs and back, and she fired questions one after another. “Are you okay? Are you injured? What happened?”
Feeling her worry, I immediately held her by her arms and stopped her restlessness.
Looking deep into her eyes, I shook my head, and reassured, “Not a rogue. A child. Barely more than eight or nine. He wasn’t attacking… rather, he was stealing. Food. Coins. Whatever he could get his hands on. The kid’s thin as a rail, starving. But that’s not the most shocking part.”
Elena’s heart seemed to stop, and I could see it in her eyes. It seemed like the rear of her head was moving, and how she was readying herself.
It’s as if she already felt like it’s more than what she thinks it could be.
“Then what is?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I hesitated, swallowing the lump forming in my throat. “He’s a werewolf, Elena. No rogue stench. And he looks… He looks like he could be your brother’s son. I didn’t want to believe it at first, but the more I looked
at him…”
Her breath caught.
She staggered back a step, shaking her head as if trying to wake from a dream. “Which brother?”
“I don’t know for sure,” I admitted, stepping closer.
This was one of the reasons why I was having a hard time telling her. It’s because I didn’t have the facts either and was afraid to disappoint her.
Nonetheless, I remained honest and told her everything, “But my gut tells me… It’s Xavier’s boy. The eyes, the shape of his face. He even has that little scar on his chin, just like your nephew had when he was playing. I saw it in an old family photo once.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, glistening in the night light. “Xavier’s son? R–rafael… But… he… he died in the massacre. We thought they all-”
“I know,” I interrupted gently, my hand brushing hers. “But somehow, this boy survived. And he’s out there, alone, scared, starving. I couldn’t leave him. He ran before I could speak to him properly, but I caught his scent. I can track him. But it’s too dangerous for us to discuss and bring him here. There are too many eyes. It will attract too much gossip.”
“Blackridge City is closer to Custodes and your academy. It’s safer, and from there, we can search without interference. Besides, that’s around the place I saw him,” I added.
Blackridge was one of the unowned territories and considered a common ground like the forest and the
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mountain, where the Custodes were located.
Elena stood frozen for a long moment, her mind racing. Then, determination sparked in her gaze.
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