[redith].
For a brief, horrifying second, an image crossed my mind—Xamira pushing her nanny over the balcony, but I rejected it imdiately.
That didn’t fit. Not with what I knew of her. Not with the child who curled into my side and asked to draw with her.
’No,’ I said softly to myself, shaking my head. ’It wasn’t like that.’
Then, I looked back at Draven. "Xamira might be human," I continued, my voice steadier than I felt, "but there is sothing else she is. Sothing shocking enough that her nanny saw it... and couldn’t believe it."
Sothing so impossible that fear stole her breath before she could even scream.
Silence fell between us. It stretched heavily, layered with things neither of us wanted to say out loud yet.
Draven finally shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t even know what to believe anymore," he admitted.
I didn’t bla him. After another mont, he straightened, resolve settling into his expression.
"We will have to find out who Xamira really is."
I nodded imdiately. "Yes." Then, before he could speak again, I added, "But until then, everything stays the sa."
He turned fully toward .
"We can’t let our suspicions show," I said firmly. "Our attitude toward her cannot change. Not even a little."
Because if we were wrong, or even if we weren’t, Xamira was still a child. So, I thought.
Draven held my gaze for a long mont, then he nodded. "Agreed."
And it’s not like Valmora seed eager to help on this matter. Seeing how quiet she was now, I could feel it in that she no longer wanted to hand candies so easily.
She wanted to make an effort to discover the truth... maybe because I didn’t listen to her and doubted her when she warned about Xamira that one ti.
---
A few hours later, I moved to the sofa where I stayed long after my conversation with Draven ended, my phone resting loosely in my hand as I scrolled through channel after channel.
Yet, I saw nothing. No updates from Duskmoor. No ergency broadcasts. No fragnted human reports the way they used to after every skirmish.
It was as if the city had been swallowed whole, and the world had quietly agreed not to speak of it.
My thumb slowed, then stopped. I hated the hollow feeling that ca with that silence. And just as I was about to lock the screen, the bedroom door opened.
Draven stepped inside.
I lifted my head instinctively, and the tension I hadn’t realized I was carrying eased when I saw him. He looked tired, but composed.
He had left earlier for a eting he had with Oscar and the others.
Draven smiled when his eyes t mine. Crossing the room, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead, lingering just long enough to ground , before settling beside on the sofa.
"What are you doing?" he asked calmly.
I tilted my phone so he could see the dark screen. "I was checking for news from Duskmoor."
His jaw tightened slightly. "And?"
"There’s nothing," I said. "It’s like all their channels vanished overnight."
He released a slow breath, leaning back. "Then it’s either the vampires have completely taken over the humans... or the destruction they caused is too severe for the humans to even recover enough to report it."
The bluntness of his words made my stomach twist.
I locked my phone and set it aside. "I don’t want to think about it anymore," I said quietly. "I just want so peace."
A corner of his mouth lifted. "Unfortunately for you, you won’t be getting any of that."
I shot him a look. "Moons. What now?"
He turned toward fully, his expression shifting from teasing to deliberate. "You need to start leaving your mark in Stormveil."
I frowned. "That sounds ominous."
"Necessary," he corrected. "Especially your image."
I crossed my arms. "Don’t tell this has sothing to do with my past reputation of being useless and a disgrace."
He nodded without hesitation.
I scoffed. "Of course."
"redith," he said evenly, "you are going to be the next Queen of Stormveil. People need to see you. Hear you. Trust you. They need proof that you’re worthy—not because you’re my mate, but because you are you."
I studied him, waiting.
"I want you to host an event," he continued. "For won and children. A gathering. You speak to them, listen to them. Let them feel seen. And at the end, you give them sothing—food, supplies, whatever you decide—before sending them off."
Almost imdiately, the idea settled in my chest just right.
"That’s... actually a good idea," I said slowly. "It gives a chance to connect with them directly."
"And change the narrative," he added.
I nodded, already thinking. "Since I’m from the Moonstone pack, I could also share my knowledge of herbs and healing. It’s sothing practical and useful."
His eyes softened with pride. "Exactly why you are perfect for this."
I felt warmth spread through at his words.
"You will need to set a date," he continued. "Start planning. Send out invitations. I will assign Mada Beatrice and a few others to assist you."
I straightened, resolve settling in. "Alright," I said. "Then I will do it properly."
Draven leaned back against the sofa, his tone shifting into sothing lighter. "You can even assign Dennis so tasks," he said casually. "Have him run errands for you."
I blinked, then smiled. "Are you sure he will like that kind of work?" I asked, already picturing Dennis’s dramatic protests.
Draven didn’t even hesitate. He turned his head toward , a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his face.
"He doesn’t have a say," he said flatly. "Or a choice. Put him to work."
I burst out laughing, the tension that had been sitting in my chest finally easing. "Oh, moons," I said, shaking my head. "I almost feel sorry for him."
But as I leaned back into the cushions, amusent still lingering on my lips, I realized sothing important—this was exactly how things should be.
planning, Draven backing , and Dennis, suffering productively.
Strangely, the thought made feel at peace.
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