Page 83 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
Leanna rises to open it, revealing Cedric’s imposing frame filling the doorway. His expression is characteristically stern, though his eyes relax when they land on Leanna.
“Coffee,” he says simply, handing her a small cup.
“Always the conversationalist,” I comment dryly.
Cedric’s gaze shifts to me. “Your mate. Protection?”
“Working on it,” I reply.
He nods once. “Don’t wait.” His meaning is clear despite his brevity.
“I won’t,” I promise.
“I’d like to meet her,” Leanna says, changing the subject. “Fiona.”
The request makes me hesitate. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s wary of strangers, and I don’t want to pressure her.”
Leanna shrugs. “Fair enough. It was just a thought.” After quickly finishing her coffee, she adds, “Cedric has some business to attend to this morning. I thought you and I could have lunch and catch up properly.”
“I’d like that,” I say, genuinely meaning it. Despite our complicated history, Leanna has become a trusted friend and ally.
After they leave, I consider my next steps carefully. The threat to Fiona is serious, but rushing in with guards and demands will only push her further away. I need a measured approach that respects her independence while ensuring her safety.
I make three calls in rapid succession to trusted members of my command, soldiers who would follow me into hell without question. By the time I’m done, I’ve arranged for a protection detail to arrive within a few hours. They’ll maintain distance, observe rather than engage, unless the threat becomes immediate. It’s not that I haven’t had people watching Fiona’scafé when I’m not around, but these particular soldiers are vicious fighters. I would trust them with my own life.
The most difficult task remains. I need to tell Fiona everything—about the organization’s plans, about the mating mark, about the danger closing in around her. After our last encounter, I’m not sure she’ll even speak to me.
But I have to try. Her life depends on it.
The early morning light filters through my window as I plan my approach. I won’t force her to do anything—accept the mark, return to the palace, any of it. But she deserves to know the truth so she can make an informed choice about her safety.
My phone buzzes with a text from Griffin.
Maya has finished the latest batch of suppressant. Sending it with the protection detail. Keep her safe, brother.
I stare at the message, a cold realization settling in my stomach. The suppressant—the very thing keeping Fiona’s wolf dormant—might be what these artificial shifters want most. If they learn how she has managed to suppress her wolf for so long, they could reverse-engineer the formula for their own purposes.
This means the danger isn’t just to Fiona as a person; it’s also to what she represents. What she knows. What her body might reveal.
I need to approach this carefully, thoughtfully. For once in my life, I can’t rely on strength or authority. I need to reach Fiona as an equal—to offer protection without demanding submission, to present options without forcing choices.
This isn’t a battle I can win with force. It’s one I can only win with patience, understanding, and respect for the remarkable woman Fiona has become.
I arrive at the restaurant early for my lunch with Leanna, selecting a table with a clear view of both entrances. Old habits die hard.
The upscale bistro is Leanna’s style—elegant without being ostentatious, with enough privacy for sensitive conversations.
As I wait, I find myself thinking about the woman I once thought I might love. When Leanna first arrived at the palace—frightened, pregnant, and on the run from Cedric, who she thought wanted her dead—I felt an immediate connection. Her courage, her determination to protect her unborn child at any cost, awakened something in me I hadn’t known existed.
For years, I convinced myself that what I felt was love. That if circumstances had been different—if she hadn’t been Cedric’s fated mate, if the bond between them hadn’t been so unbreakable—perhaps we might have built a life together.
But now, as I see her approaching through the restaurant window, I realize something has fundamentally changed. I still admire Leanna—her intelligence, her strength, her grace under pressure. But the sight of her no longer makes my heart race. The longing that once accompanied thoughts of her has faded to a comfortable affection.
I rise as she reaches the table, surprised by the clarity of this realization. I never thought I would fall out of love with Leanna, believing those feelings were carved too deeply to ever disappear fully. Yet, here we are, as she noted this morning.
“Sorry I’m late,” she says, accepting my light embrace with the easy familiarity of old friends. “Cedric needed to coordinate with his security team before his meeting.”
“No problem,” I say, pulling out a chair for her. “I just arrived myself.”
