THE PRINCE'S EXILED MATE

LYSANDER/JASPER

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Jasper closes the door behind them with an easy click, then leans against the counter, arms crossing over his chest.

“So,” he says calmly. “You’ve offered for my family to live on castle grounds. That right?”

Lysander nods. “I saw the note too.”

Jasper exhales through his nose, thoughtful rather than accusatory. “We’ve been doing our own thing for years. Built our lives without pack resources, without protection. What exactly do you expect from us?”

“I don’t expect anything,” Lysander answers immediately. “The cottage will be yours. Completely. I understand you’re used to your space—your independence. Being around other wolves again will be… a lot.” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “That’s why it’s safe. You’ll have your own home. My parents aren’t asking you to officially rejoin the pack or live under anyone’s rule. Not unless you want to someday.”

He meets Jasper’s gaze, steady. “I promise you’ll be protected.”

Jasper studies him for a long moment, then nods once. “We appreciate that.”

There’s a beat.

“Now,” Jasper adds, voice shifting just slightly, “about my daughter.”

Lysander mutters under his breath, “I thought so.”

Jasper smirks. Just barely.

“I can tell you care about our family,” Jasper continues. “So I’m not asking if you care about Elora. You’ve already had the warning—first time you stepped into my home.”

Lysander straightens.

“I’m asking if you’re truly ready for the backlash.”

The question lands heavier than Lysander expects.

For a second, he isn’t sure if this is a warning… a test… or a father doing what fathers do best—protecting what matters most.

Maybe all three.

Before he can answer, Jasper tilts his head slightly, eyes flicking downward.

“Something tells me you’ve already dealt with it,” he adds dryly, glancing at Lysander’s bruised knuckles.

Lysander doesn’t bother deflecting this time.

“You’re all family to me,” he says, stubborn and certain. “And nothing changes that.”

Jasper’s expression softens—not approval exactly, but respect. The kind that isn’t given lightly.

He nods once.

“Then you should know,” Jasper says, almost conversationally, “Caspian is going to be—”

“A menace,” Lysander finishes at the same time.

They both pause.

Then smile.

It’s brief. Quiet. Earned.

And for the first time, Lysander feels it clearly:

This isn’t just about protecting Elora.

It’s about standing beside her family—and being worthy of the place they’re about to step into together.