Page 20 of Lycan Prey
Damian stands at attention, his expression serious as he waits for me to acknowledge him. I motion for him to enter my office and he enters, closing the door behind him.
I mute the call and turn to Damian, my eyebrows raised in question. “What is it?” My brother glances out the window before turning back to me.
“Your son has run off again, Your Highness,” Damian reports, his expression grim. “The nanny left him for a moment to fetch his lunch, and when she returned, he was gone.”
Panic rushes through me, and I end the meeting abruptly, unmuting the call. “I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I need to go.”
As I hurry out of the office, guilt gnaws at me. I’ve been working too much, leaving Max to the care of his nanny. I should have been there for him.
Damian follows closely behind me as we make our way through the palace. My mind races with worry as we search for Max. The last time he ran off, he ended up in the park alone and scared. I can’t imagine what could happen this time.
“Where could he be?” I mutter to myself, my heart pounding in my chest when I recall how Max couldn’t stop talking about Brielle, the girl from the café, when I put him to bed last night. Damian asked around about her; apparently she is staying with her grandmother. It’s also how I found out she works at the café. A thought crosses my mind, I jog to my car and climb in, the driver already in the driver's seat.
“Head to town,” I tell him, instructing my driver to take me to the café.
When we pull up, I waste no time rushing inside. My heart leaps with relief when I spot Max and Brielle, but my aura erupts with tension, betraying my anxiety. Before I can reach Max, Brielle steps in my path.
“He’s just a boy, My King,” she says, her voice soft but firm.
Her words momentarily take me aback, and it dawns on me my aura must have made her think I was angry with Max. I study her, noticing the rainbow hue of her hair and the delicate curve of her face. She’s breathtakingly beautiful, and I find myself unexpectedly impressed by her courage to stand up to me, especially for the sake of my son.
I compose myself, reigning in my aura and offering her a small, grateful smile.
“You’re right,” I concede, my voice gentle. “I was just worried about him. Thank you for watching over him.”
Brielle relaxes a little, her eyes flicking toward Max before returning to meet mine.
“He’s a sweet kid. I’m just glad he came here and wasn’t sitting in the park alone again,” she tells me and I turn my attention to my son hiding behind her. He peeks his head out from behind her and I motion with one finger for him to come to me.
Max runs toward me and I scoop him up in my arms, relief flooding through me.
“Max, what were you thinking? Running off like that,” I scold gently, holding him close as I inhale his scent and let out a breath of relief.
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Max murmurs against my shoulder. “I just wanted to see Brielle.”
I stiffen at the mention of the girl’s name.
“She’s really nice, Daddy,” he says dreamily.
“I’m glad you think so,” I reply carefully. “But you can’t just run off without telling anyone.”
He looks down guiltily and nods.
I set him down, my mind is still reeling from the fact Max came here looking for this girl he barely knows.
“Why did you run off?” I ask gently, trying not to sound accusatory.
Max fidgets with his fingers and I nudge him into the booth. I sit with Max, preparing to talk to him about the dangers of running off when Brielle offers to make me a coffee and Max a hot chocolate. I nod, waving her off and turning to look at my son who still hasn’t answered. Brielle brings both drinks and a muffin for each of us, and I appreciate the kindness in her actions.
I sip my coffee watching my son. Max sets down his cup, his small hands gripping it tightly as he looks around the café, his eyes scanning the room until they land on Brielle, who is now chatting with a group of customers.
I can feel my patience wearing thin. I take a deep breath and try to remain calm, knowing getting angry will only make the situation worse. “Max, why do you keep running off? You can’t keep doing this. I was on a very important call.”
“You’re always on calls. You never have time for me,” he pouts. I run my fingers through my hair and sigh.
“Max, you know how important my work is,” I say firmly. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t have time for you. You’re my son and you will always come first.”
He looks at me with wide eyes, seemingly surprised by my response. I reach over and ruffle his hair affectionately.
