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Upon entering the foyer, I’m greeted by an overwhelming silence. The vast splendor of our mansion now feels eerily hollow, punctuated only by distant sounds: footsteps echoing from somewhere above us. Aubrey hesitates for a moment at my elbow. I nudge her forward to keep her moving. We are halfway down the hallway leading to the staircase when movement catches from the corner of my eye.

I turn to see the billiard room’s doors open and out rushes Max. His eyes widen when he spots us and I hear my mother’s voice filter to me as she tries to stop him. As she rushes out I shake my head letting her know it’s fine as I move to scoop him up. “Your home,” he squeals as I soak up his scent.

“Yes, buddy. I’m home,” I say, my lips thinning into the best semblance of a smile I can muster.

He buries his face in the crook of my neck, wrapping his tiny arms around me in a tight hug. Every muscle in my body relaxes.

Aubrey watches from a distance, her face softening as she observes us. Max lifts his head and spots her. His legs immediately start kicking, wanting to be placed down so he can go to her.

Setting him down, he darts off toward her shrieking excitedly.

“Bree!” he squeals, latching onto Aubrey’s legs tightly. Her hands instantly find his head, fingers carding through his hair as she crouches down to pick him up before tensing and looking at me as she does, like she isn’t sure if she is allowed.

“Hello, Max, I’ve missed you” she whispers, pressing a kiss onto his forehead. The sight of them together is almost enough to make me forget her betrayal.

“I drew you a picture, wanna see?” Max asks tugging on her hair, and she smiles at him, brushing her nose against his. “Of course, I just need to shower first,” she tells him and he finally notices her face all carved up and her barely clothed body, my jacket drowning her petite frame, which is covered in blood. I clench my teeth, I want to heal her but those kinds of marks will only be healed if I change her. “I just need to speak with your father first.” She looks at me and so does Max, and I can tell he is confused and scared by the state of her.

“No, go clean up and be with Max. We can catch up later. You can tuck him in, I need to check everything here is locked down,” I tell her before she can even ask.

I look at my mother. “Stay with her,” I mindlink and she nods. I head to my office knowing that’s where Damian and my father will meet me, not giving myself a chance to change my mind about her being here or with Max.

• • •

Exhaustion weighs heavily on me as I reach the top of the stairs. The entire castle is locked down and few staff remain. Damian and I also interrogated Bianca, confirming what Aubrey told me before commanding her not to use her mindlink or packlink. She’s heavily dosed out on wolfsbane until I figure out what I’m going to do with her. However, the interrogation with Bianca has left me drained, yet there’s still one more thing I need to do before I can rest: I need to find Aubrey.

Once to my floor, I make my way down the hall, my footsteps echoing in the quiet. As I approach Max’s room, I hear the soft sound of breathing. Pushing the door open, I’m greeted by an unexpected sight.

Aubrey is curled up on the sofa, she is all cleaned up now. Besides the deep gashes on her face, you’d think nothing happened. Gone is all the blood and ruined clothes, her hair no longer matted, her head resting on Max’s shoulder. They’re both fast asleep, a book lying forgotten on Max’s lap. The scene tugs at something in my chest—a bittersweet mixture of warmth and possessiveness when my mother catches my eye. She is sitting on a chair watching them, she quietly stands and leaves, giving my shoulder a squeeze as she does.

I stand there for a moment, watching them. Aubrey’s face is peaceful in sleep, the worry lines that have been etched there since her return now smoothed away. Max has an arm draped loosely around her waist, his book almost falling off his lap.

Moving toward them, I scoop up Max first, tucking him into his bed, and pulling the blankets around him.

Turning back to Aubrey, I gently slide my arms under her sleeping form. I lift her, cradling her against my chest. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, instinctively curling into me as I let my calling flood out.

As I turn to leave, Max’s eyes flutter open. He looks at me, then at Aubrey in my arms, a question in his gaze.

“I’ve got her,” I say softly. “Get some rest, Max. You can play with Aubrey tomorrow.”

He nods, his eyes already drifting closed again. I carry Aubrey out of the room, her warmth seeping into me as I make my way to our bedroom. Despite everything that’s happened, despite the storm I know is coming, this moment feels right. She’s here, she’s safe, and she’s in my arms where she belongs.

As I’m crossing the threshold of our bedroom, Aubrey stirs in my arms. Her eyelids flutter open, confusion clouding her gaze for a moment before recognition sets in.

“Soren?” she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep. “What are you doing?”

I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. Even in her drowsy state, she’s adorable. “Taking my fiancée to bed,” I reply softly, my eyes never leaving hers.

Aubrey blinks, processing my words. “Fiancée?” she echoes, a mix of surprise and hope in her tone.

“Yes, fiancée, that hasn’t changed. I’m angry, but even angry, I still love you,” I tell her, gently laying her down on our bed. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about marrying me?”

I wait for her response. After everything that’s happened, all the revelations and betrayals, I realize how much I need to hear her say it again. To know that despite it all, she still wants this – wants us.

Aubrey’s fingers graze my cheek. “Never,” she whispers, her eyes shining with emotion. “I love you, Soren. That hasn’t changed.”

Relief washes over me, though, I can’t fully shake the lingering doubts. “You’re not just saying that to get out of trouble?”

“No, Soren. My love for you and Max, my life with you and your family, even your crazy-ass brother—that doesn’t need to be questioned. Command me if it puts you at ease,” she murmurs. She watches me for a second, and the urge to command her answers tugs at me. “You want to, don’t you?”