Page 81 of Dragon King’s Bullied Mate

Beckett picked at the blanket in his lap for several moments before whispering, “Does it make me bad if I’m glad he’s dead?”

Pain sliced through her chest instantly. “Oh, Beckett…”

“I didn’t want him to find me ever again.” His small voice shook slightly. “Every time someone knocked on the cottage door, I thought maybe it was him.” Tears gathered in his eyes. “I know people are supposed to love their dads, but I hated him.”

Lyra pulled him immediately into her arms.

“You are not bad,” she whispered fiercely against his hair. “Not even a little.”

Beckett cried quietly against her shoulder while years of fear finally seemed to pour out of him all at once. And beneath the grief, another terrifying realization slowly settled over Lyra.

Boden was gone, which meant legally, Beckett had no one.

The thought haunted her enough that later that night she slipped away to call Sherrell from one of the private study rooms tucked deep within the castle.

The familiar warmth of Sherrell’s voice nearly made Lyra cry from relief alone.

“Well,” Sherrell said after Lyra haltingly explained everything, “first of all, remind me never to complain about village gossip again because apparently your life became an actual war story.”

Despite being herself, Lyra laughed weakly. Then her voice softened. “I don’t know what happens to Beckett now.”

There was a brief pause.

“Lyra,” Sherrell said carefully, “Mikael already contacted legal advisors three days ago.”

Lyra blinked. “What?”

“He’s arranging permanent adoption papers.”

Silence.

Sherrell snorted softly. “Honestly, I think that man decided Beckett was his child weeks ago.”

Emotion closed suddenly around Lyra’s throat. “He didn’t tell me.”

“Probably because he didn’t want you thinking he was pressuring you.” Sherrell hesitated. “But sweetheart… people don’t fight and overthrow terrorists for temporary relationships.”

By the time Lyra returned to Mikael’s chambers, her chest ached unbearably with love. She didn’t say a word as she kissed him and pushed him back on the bed.

Several weeks later they returned briefly to her village.

Spring had finally begun softening the brutal edge of winter while melting snow dripped steadily from cottage rooftops and wildflowers pushed stubbornly through thawing earth beside the pathways.

Lyra paused inside the doorway, emotion washing over her so suddenly she nearly lost her breath altogether.

Home.

Mikael stepped quietly behind her. “You missed this place.”

“I did.”

They spent the following days repairing storm damage while Beckett helped enthusiastically despite possessing almost no actual construction skills whatsoever.

Mikael appeared entirely unbothered by it. One afternoon she found him inside the greenhouse while sunlight spilled across his dark hair.

“You know,” she said softly, leaning against one of the worktables, “this place is special.”

Mikael glanced upward and understanding slowly warmed his expression. The place where they had first truly surrendered to each other. Where he had first touched her like something precious instead of fragile.