The broken Lycan prince - Healed by innocence

Intruding

*Lydia*

Unable to sleep, I stare at the shadows haunting the corners of my bedroom. Not quite comfortable with the unfamiliar surroundings, Zara had asked to share my bed tonight. I hadn't minded. I find comfort in her soft breathing and her small body curled against my back. For Zara, dreams no doubt had arrived shortly after she closed her eyes.

I know I should find solace in dreams as easily, but the day’s excitement has yet to wane, even though disappointment has threaded its way through portions of it. Although our journey had begun as a result of sad news, I had hoped the trip would give me an opportunity to see a part of the world I have only heard about.

Now my enthusiasm for traveling to London has lessened. Repeatedly I have made mistakes throughout the afternoon and evening. Grayson has often dismissed me. I am certain he is accustomed to whittier, livelier conversation. It has been years since I have felt like a child trying to peer into the grownups’ world. I will fail miserably in London.

Casting aside the blankets, I ease out of the bed, reach for my night wrapper, and slip it on. As large as this house is, I suddenly feel it closing in on me.

I pad barefoot to the door. Quietly, I open it and peer into the hallway. No one stirs. But then why would they? It is long past midnight.

Creeping along the hallway, I near the Lycan prince’s bedchamber. I wonder if Grayson is still visiting with his father. My stepfather had returned to the library shortly before we had retired for the evening. He had looked more haggard than ever.

I am almost to the stairs when I hear a low moan come from the Lycan prince’s bedchamber. Is someone with the man now? Surely they haven’t left him alone in his weakened state.

I wonder if I should fetch my stepfather to check on him. But I can’t bring myself to disturb my stepfather if the slightest chance exists that he is already asleep. I don’t think he had slept well since he had received the news of his father’s failing health.

Surely no one would fault me for looking in on the Lycan prince. If a problem exists, I am sure I could find a servant somewhere in the house. And if not, I could wake my stepfather then.

Placing my hand on the cold knob, I turn it slowly, quietly. Pushing open the door, I am greeted with the overpowering fragrance of far too many flowers. I would have opened a window to allow in some fresh air, but the scene beyond the shadows rivets me.

With the low light in the lamp on the table beside the bed casting a halo around his bowed head, Grayson holds his father’s hand. A heart-wrenching pose, a son with his father in the final hours.

I feel like an intruder, and yet I can’t leave.

Several times during my encounters with Grayson, I had thought he appeared to be a solitary figure, alone within his own family. He seems even more so now.

I want him to know he isn’t alone. We have come here to offer our support and our strength. As a family, we will endure these troubling times. We will make it through.

I step silently into the room, intending to approach and offer him comfort, but the sight of the withered and frail man lying on the bed stops me. This man is my stepfather’s father.

He looks nothing like my stepfather, nothing like the great Alpha he must have been at one time.

“Father?” Grayson prods in a low voice.

I think I detect the Lycan prince moving his head almost imperceptibly. Is he awake or simply reacting to the baritone of his son’s voice?

“Father, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I beg of you, do not leave this world without telling Mother that you love her. Even if the words are false, I implore you to give them to her. She has served you faithfully these many years. And despite her faults… of which I know there are many… she has great feelings for you.” He says softly.

I hold my breath listening to his voice.

“If you will do this, I swear to you that I shall ensure Harrison receives whatever property is not entailed. I shall give to him all things the Crown has not expressly forbidden. All you hold dear, I shall bestow upon him. He will always be welcomed here and shall want for nothing.”

“He wants for nothing now,” I say quietly.

Grayson snaps his head around to glare at me, standing at the foot of the bed, my hand wrapped around the post supporting the heavy canopy. I don’t remember crossing to the bed. I only know Grayson’s pleading voice has drawn me toward him.

He comes up out of the chair like a man possessed. Without a word, he grabs my arm and hauls me from the room. His grip is firm, but not painful. Fury shimmers off him.

I fully expect him to release me as soon as he enters the hallway. To yell at me and wake my stepfather. Instead, he proceeds down the stairs, taking me with him. My toes dancing over the steps, I struggle to keep up with his rapid strides.

Across the foyer. Through the front door. Down the stone steps to the cobbled path.

It finally occurs to me that he has no intention of stopping until he has escorted me out of the country. I wrench free.

“What in Goddess’ name did you think you were doing?” he demands, turning on me like a cornered animal. “What right did you have to intrude on my private moment with my father?”

Before I can answer, he has again wrapped his hand around my arm and is tugging me away from the house, away from prying eyes, away from any witnesses who might see his outburst as undignified. He strikes me as an extremely private man, a man who needs distance to rebuild the walls he had lowered in his father’s bedchamber. He certainly seems intent on achieving distance.