The Disdained Luna Who Rose Alone Chapter 92 She Is Single

Calvin’s POV

I turned at the sound of Evelyn’s urgent voice, catching the exchange of glances between her and this Husara.

Evelyn’s eyes flashed with panic, while Husara gave her that knowing look that scread "you don’t need to explain, I understand everything."

"Husara, it’s not what you think," Evelyn explained hastily. "Calvin stayed because of the children. After yesterday’s incident, they needed their father. We’re not back together."

I pretended not to notice the way Husara’s eyes darted toward , checking out from head to toe before whispering to Evelyn, "But I have to say, your ex-husband is ridiculously hot."

Evelyn whispered back, "He was an ass"

Well, my werewolf hearing picks up everything.

Once in the guest bathroom, I stepped under the cold shower, an unexpected smile tugged at my lips. A delicious warmth spread through my chest despite the water beating against my skin.

Evelyn wasn’t remarried. There was no new man in her life.

Up close, I could tell that Husara was a woman.

Knowing this changed sothing in , like a weight had been lifted. Even my sore muscles felt better.

I let the cold water run over my body, over the muscles I maintained not for looks but as part of being an Alpha. My mind was full of questions I needed to ask Evelyn about why she lied to , our past, and those videos showing her affair that ruined our marriage.

I needed to tell her about my arrangent with Clara, the one I’d made to protect her and the children. So many things left unsaid between us, festering like open wounds.

After dressing quickly, I erged from the guest room only to find the dining area empty. The housekeeper inford that Evelyn had left to see her friend off. Husara had apparently left quickly once she realized I was here, probably assuming my presence ant Evelyn and the children were safe enough.

Hearing movent from the master bedroom, I took the stairs two at a ti. Inside, Rowan and Rhys were already awake and getting dressed. The noise had stirred Alexis, who blinked sleepily at with confusion swimming in those big eyes of hers before reaching toward .

"Uncle, hold," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

My heart lted instantly. I lifted her gently, my hand automatically checking her forehead for fever. Relief washed through when I found her temperature normal. I’d learned during my stay at the research facility that despite her seemingly boundless energy, this little one was susceptible to high fevers from even minor injuries.

The mory of Evelyn’s breakdown in Viremont flashed through my mind, followed by the image of Alexis’s gaunt face when I’d seen her later. Regret and tenderness surged through as I smoothed her wild bedhead.

"Alex," I said softly, "Uncle needs to say sorry to you."

Her innocent eyes filled with confusion.

"My friend hurt Alex’s face before. You got sick with fever because of it. I’m sorry," I explained, the words feeling both inadequate and necessary.

Turning her face away with a little huff, she declared, "Uncle bad."

Looking at the small bundle in my arms, warmth blood in my chest like a spring thaw after a harsh winter. My expression softened in a way I rarely showed anyone but her.

"Yes, Alex is right," I admitted.

As I prepared to carry her to the bathroom to brush her teeth, her tiny hand tugged at my shirt.

"Say sorry to Mommy," she insisted seriously, her eyes unwavering.

I knew she rembered that day in Viremont, when Evelyn had ordered both and her brother to leave. Because of what happened to Alexis, Evelyn had suffered greatly.

When I didn’t imdiately respond, Alexis grew agitated.

"Uncle, tell Mommy," she insisted more forcefully.

"I will," I promised.

Monts later, Evelyn appeared in the doorway and caught struggling to make two even pigtails for Alexis. Her daughter sat patiently in my lap, tolerating my awkward attempts with surprising patience.

Hearing Evelyn’s approach, I looked up helplessly. "I’ve never done a little girl’s hair before," I admitted.

Alexis imdiately stretched her arms toward her mother, pointing accusingly at the uneven braids on her head.

"Mommy, Alex going bald!" she complained with indignation.

Evelyn laughed with that musical sound I’d missed for three long years, and the room filled with warmth as she took the brush from my hands. With practiced movents, she quickly fixed our daughter’s hair into perfect twin tails.

"Our little Alex has enough hair for three people," she assured, planting a noisy kiss on the child’s cheek. "You’ll never go bald, sweetie."

Alexis giggled with delight at her mother’s attention.

Freshly brushed and dressed, Rhys ran over to grab my hand excitedly. "Dad, let’s get lunch! and brother’s tummies are singing songs!"

At the ntion of food, Alexis’s eyes imdiately brightened.

"Mommy, food!" she said excitedly.

Throughout this dostic scene, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. My gaze constantly returned to Evelyn, searching for any sign that she felt this too—this rightness, this sense of family that had been missing for so long. But she wouldn’t et my eyes, treating my presence as nothing more than a convenience for our children’s happiness.

After the children finished eating and ran off to play, only Evelyn and I remained at the table. The mont felt ripe for the discussion we needed to have.

"Rocco has been confird as Calypso Pack’s enforcer," I inford her, keeping my voice even. "He won’t be a threat to anyone ever again."

Evelyn set down her utensils, her voice cold. "I recall him being imprisoned before. How exactly did he get out?"

I held her gaze. "The Calypso Pack may be small, but they’ve cultivated certain... influences. They’ve been thodically buying people for years, building up their pack’s power."

She scoffed. "Anyone with enough power to release a prisoner like that must be significant."

I didn’t deny it. The list Zeon had compiled was disturbingly extensive.

I could feel the cold fury brewing inside at the thought of those who had endangered my family.

"Stay out of this investigation," I warned her. "Let handle it. These people have sensitive positions, and if cornered, they’ll beco desperate. I won’t risk them targeting you or the children again."

The Calypso Pack couldn’t possibly have acquired such high-level connections on their own. Their network suggested the presence of a hidden puppetmaster—soone with far more reach and resources than Clara’s family should possess.

I’d uncovered disturbing leads, but the web of involvent stretched too wide, encompassing levels of society I preferred Evelyn remain protected from.

Watching her massage her temples as she leaned back in her chair, I could see she was piecing together the implications of what I hadn’t explicitly stated.

"Don’t worry," I softened my tone. "I’ll protect you and the children."

I noticed the subtle quickening of her pulse at my words before she regained her composure.

Afraid she might take unnecessary risks, I carefully added, "The Calypso Pack has crossed legal boundaries, but their ability to do so indicates protection from soone in power."

"I’ll eliminate the root of this problem," I promised. "Until then, you and the children should minimize going outside."

I’d already positioned my most trusted enforcers around the house. As long as they stayed within its boundaries, no one would be able to reach them.

Evelyn turned to face directly, her eyes challenging. "And what about Clara?"