CHAPTER 20: STAY

Night settled heavily over Ravenmoon, the crescent moon barely visible behind drifting clouds. The mansion’s halls were silent, the usual hum of guards muted by the late hour. In his private suite, Lucien sat alone behind his desk, a half–finished report lying untouched before him.

He’d read the same sentence three times.

And each time, his mind drifted back to the image of Devon collapsing into his arms at the border, small, trembling, bleeding out, the way his body had gone limp as though already accepting death. Lucien’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. He’d seen many wolves die in his life, but none had unsettled him like that.

I must be crazy!

Why am I...

He pushed away from the desk and stood.

So concerned?

The moonlight cast long shadows across the floor as he moved across his suite. He told himself he was only going to check Devon’s temperature. Nothing more. A leader must monitor the safety of those under his roof. That was all.

But the truth was quieter. And far more dangerous.

When he reached his bedroom door, he hesitated, an uncharacteristic flicker of uncertainty. Then he exhaled, turned the knob gently, and stepped inside.

The room was dim, lit only by the fire that had dwindled to warm embers. Devon lay asleep on the large bed pushed against the window, his breathing shallow but steady. Sweat dampened his hairline, and the blanket had slipped halfway down his chest, revealing the bandages wrapped around his ribs.

Lucien approached quietly.

He must be in pain.

He stopped beside the bed, his sharp eyes scanning every detail, the faint bruising along Devon’s collarbone, the soft tremor in his fingertips, the fragile way he curled slightly toward the warmth of the fire. Even unconscious, he looked like someone ready to run. Ready to break.

A knot tightened in Lucien’s chest. He reached out, intending to adjust the blanket. But his hand hovered in midair when he noticed Devon’s brows furrow, as though caught in a nightmare. His breath hitched, pained and uneven.

Lucien frowned.

"...Devon." He kept his voice low, almost gentle. "Wake up."

Devon didn’t respond, only whimpered, barely audible. The sound pierced straight through Lucien’s composure.

He knelt beside the bed and shook Devon’s shoulder lightly.

Devon’s eyes flew open, wild, disoriented, and he flinched away, hitting the headboard with a strangled gasp.

"Easy." Lucien placed a steady hand on the mattress, palms open. "It’s only me."

Devon blinked rapidly, chest rising and falling too quickly, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes before he could stop them.

"I... I’m sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I didn’t mean to, I thought..."

Lucien’s gaze softened. "You’re safe."

The words were rough, as though dragged out of him, but firm enough to anchor the trembling omega back to the present.

Devon swallowed hard, trying to breathe. "I didn’t hear you come in..."

"You were feverish earlier," Lucien said, shifting closer. "I came to check on you."

Devon looked away. "You didn’t have to."

Lucien raised a brow. "You think I could sleep knowing you nearly died on my borders?"

Devon’s throat tightened. "You should be angry at me... I disobeyed you."

"I am angry." Lucien leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low rumble that sent a shiver down Devon’s spine. "But not because you disobeyed. Because you didn’t think your life was worth saving."

Devon’s eyes widened, tears pooling again, this time not from fear.

Lucien reached out, hesitated only briefly, then brushed Devon’s bangs aside, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead.

Devon stiffened at the contact, but didn’t pull away.

"You’re cooler than earlier," Lucien murmured. "Good."

Devon’s voice was barely a whisper. "Why do you care so much?"

Lucien’s hand stilled.

I don’t know, too...

Or I am unsure...

The fire cracked weakly in the silence.

"Because," Lucien said slowly, "I saw you lying there in the snow, bleeding for a pack that isn’t yours... and something inside me refused to lose you."

Devon’s breath caught in his throat.

Lucien continued, voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.

"You fight to protect a child who isn’t yours. You endure pain without complaint. You try to slip away so you won’t cause trouble." His eyes softened. "Someone like that is not a burden. He’s... someone worth protecting."

Devon blinked rapidly as warmth bloomed in his chest, foreign and overwhelming.

Lucien gently pulled the blanket up to Devon’s shoulders, as though sealing in the warmth.

"Get some rest," he murmured.

But when he began to stand, Devon’s fingers reached out, shaky, hesitant, and caught the edge of Lucien’s sleeve.

Lucien froze.

"...Stay," Devon whispered, his cheeks flushing faintly in the firelight. "Just for a little while. I... I don’t want to wake up alone again."

Lucien exhaled softly, a sound somewhere between surprise and surrender. Without a word, he sat on the edge of the bed.

Devon shifted closer, instinctually drawn to his warmth, his breathing evening out as exhaustion tugged him back toward sleep. Lucien watched him with an expression almost no one had ever witnessed on him, protective, gentle, achingly conflicted.

As Devon finally drifted off, Lucien brushed a thumb across the boy’s temple, whispering the words he refused to say aloud in daylight.

"I won’t let anyone take you from me. Not Redstone. Not fate. Not even yourself."

And in the quiet glow of the dying fire, he stayed until dawn.

The first thing Devon felt was warmth. Not the feverish burn from before, nor the sweltering heaviness of blankets. This warmth was steady. Solid. Living.

He shifted slightly, and something firm tightened around his waist, an arm. A very strong arm. Devon’s breath caught as awareness returned in a slow rush. He was lying against someone’s chest. And not just anyone’s chest.

A deep, low heartbeat thudded beneath his ear, calm, powerful, unmistakable.

Lucien...

Devon’s eyes flew open.

Why is the Alpha here?

The morning light peeked through the curtains, soft and pale. The fire had died, leaving only a faint trail of smoke. They were on the same bed, Lucien leaning, sitting up against the headboard, his head tilted slightly back, eyes closed in sleep. Devon lay curled against him, practically wrapped in the Alpha’s embrace.

What? How?

Devon’s face flushed hot. He tried to move, gently, carefully, but Lucien’s grip tightened instinctively, pulling him closer, anchoring him like he weighed nothing.

Devon froze.

Lucien’s breath brushed the top of his hair.

And then...

"...You’re awake."