Page 43 of Bully Wolf's Nanny
As soon as the door closed with a soft click, she sank to her knees, unable to stop the tears from falling.
“This is for the best,” she said into the empty room, “this is for the best.”
And it was. She couldn’t fall any further in love with him. She couldn’t. She’d done it once, and it had nearly destroyed her. She would not give him that power again. She would stay, she would teach Francesca about looking after Gracie, and then when the time came, she would leave. There was no way Nicolas would be able to resist Francesca for long, and Daisy could only hope and pray that she would be long gone by the time Francesca succeeded in seducing him and getting her family back.
Despite her misery, despite the tears falling down her face, she laughed.
Perhaps she was rather like Cinderella after all. Except no handsome prince was coming to save her.
The prince had had her. And now it was back to being a servant.
Chapter 14 - Nicolas
Several weeks had passed since Francesca had arrived, the long summer days giving way to the golden leaves of autumn. Pack activity was ramping up in anticipation of the upcoming autumn celebrations, and Nero was abuzz with the upcoming merger with Harper. Nicolas was finding his days full from dawn until dusk, and often late into the night as well.
He hated it. Hated being away from home so much. Hated that Daisy and Francesca were left alone for such long stretches of time.
Because despite what she might think, Francesca wasn’t nearly as careful as she thought when it came to her treatment of Daisy.
Oh sure, she was all simpering smiles and manners when Nicolas was around. She would dare to go as far as the small, subtle dig, but on the whole she was a complete delight. But she had forgotten one crucial detail. Nicolas was a shifter. With all the advanced senses that she herself lacked as an ordinary human.
His hearing, for one. He could hear most things that went on in the house from rooms away. And he could hear exactly how Francesca spoke to Daisy when she thought they were alone.
He’d only caught snippets here and there. Cruel comments that could be written off as a joke or banter. Comments about Daisy’s clothes, or her hair, or her intelligence. Things meant to undermine her, to tear her down, all with the pretense of friendly wit. Daisy bore it all with the patience of a saint.
Nicolas had gotten involved once. Stormed into a room and reminded Francesca in harsh terms that he would nottolerate disrespect. Her eyes would widen and moisten with tears, and she would fan herself and claim she was only trying to build up a rapport with Daisy, that her comments weren’t meant like that, that she wasdevastatedat the thought of offending.
And then Daisy, sweet innocent Daisy, had held Francesca by the shoulders and told her it was absolutely fine and that her feelings weren’t hurt at all, and she had glared at Nicolas and told him not to be cruel. Later, he had found Daisy and asked her how she truly felt. She had smiled thinly, no light behind her eyes, and said that she was perfectly fine and that she would appreciate it if he didn’t get involved again.
So he hadn’t. Even though it was driving him crazy. He hated seeing Daisy hurt. She hid it well, that was certain, but he knew.
God knows, he knew.
Because the truth was, Francesca’s cruelty only held a mirror up to his own actions towards Daisy at school. How could he presume to launch to her defense when he himself had been her biggest tormentor?
To this day, he hadn’t managed to unravel the reasons behind his actions. For a while, he thought it had just been teenage immaturity. The childish reaction to attraction to someone his sphere would never approve of.
But it went deeper than that. Daisy represented everything that he wasn’t. He was a right bastard, and more than willing to acknowledge that. It was no secret. Daisy, on the other hand…she was so good. So sweet and lovely and kind. Her first thought was always what she could do to help others. Whenever he was around her, he felt the sharp edges of his own temperament. The anger, the cynicism. She was a shining light of all his inadequacies.
And so he had done the only thing he could think to do. He had beaten her down. Proved his dominance over and over and over again. Shown her, and everyone else, that he was better. He didn’t need to be good, or kind, or loving. He was stronger than she was.
But her wide green eyes would fill with tears, and instead of triumph, he would just feel hollow. So he would try again. Insult her again. Make her cry again. On and on it went, until even he could no longer deny it.
She was the strong one. Not him. She withstood his tempest with grace and dignity, never folding, never breaking despite her tears. But he had broken. He had lost control and kissed her against the tree when he heard some loser human had asked her out, because he couldn’t bear the thought that anyone else would have her light.
He wanted it for himself. And so he took it.
And she had let him. And as she softened, as she melted into him, he had learned why.
She wasn’t always strong. In fact, she felt weak. She needed his kind of strength. And he needed hers.
She had trusted him not to destroy the tenuous thing they were building. And he had.
He hadn’t had a choice.
Just like now. She was hurting, and he didn’t have a choice.
When he had opened that envelope from Francesca, it was only Gracie’s presence that had stopped him from putting his fist through a wall. As it was, he had left the house as soon as he had talked to Daisy and gone to the Pine Shadow Club to talk through his options with Felix.
