Chapter 94: Never-ending Complaints
Rosalie:
By the time we returned to the car, midnight was only minutes away.
The drive back passed in comfortable silence. Neither of us seemed eager to disturb the peaceful atmosphere surrounding us.
Eventually, the familiar streets of Shadow Creek appeared once again.
Zaiden stopped the car outside my house.
I unbuckled my seatbelt before turning toward him. "I..." The words refused to come. Everything I wanted to say suddenly became tangled inside my chest. And before I could gather them, Zaiden unexpectedly leaned closer.
My breath caught as one of his warm hands gently cupped my cheek. His thumb rested lightly against my skin. And then, he leaned in just enough for his lips to softly brush against my forehead.
The kiss lasted only a brief moment. It was gentle, tender, and filled with quiet gratitude.
When he pulled back, his gray eyes met mine. "Thank you," he said softly. "You made this..." His gaze lingered on the little charm bracelet now resting around his wrist. "...the most special birthday I have ever had."
My heart completely lost its rhythm. Unable to trust my own voice anymore, I nodded far too quickly before fumbling with the door handle.
I practically stumbled out of the car and ran straight to my house without a single glance back. My hands trembled so badly that it took me two attempts to unlock my front door. Only after slipping safely inside and leaning against the closed door did I realize just how wildly my heart was pounding.
Then almost instantly, another realization struck me and I squeezed my eyes shut.
Moon Goddess! I had forgotten to tell him...
Good night.
* * *
Alastor:
The final document on my desk received my signature just as the grandfather clock mounted on the study wall began striking midnight.
One... two... three...
Each heavy chime echoed through the otherwise silent room, reminding me just how another exhausting day had slipped away without me even noticing. I leaned back against my chair and closed my eyes for a brief moment, rubbing the bridge of my nose as a dull headache settled behind my temples once again.
This month had turned into an endless cycle of meetings, security reports, construction plans, financial reviews, and complaints from every possible department.
Ever since someone had infiltrated Crescent Wolf Pack, entered Charlotte’s bedroom, stolen one of her jewelry pieces, and somehow dismantled parts of our security system without leaving behind a single usable lead about a month ago, everything had become a complete mess. Half of our surveillance network had required replacement, the patrol routes had to be redesigned from scratch, and every weakness in our defenses needed immediate attention before word spread to rival packs that our territory had been compromised.
Normally, none of this would have overwhelmed me. There had always been someone who handled these matters better than anyone else. Kaiser. Security had always been his domain, and I hadn’t fully realized just how much responsibility he quietly carried until he stopped carrying it altogether.
With a tired sigh, I gathered the remaining files into a neat pile before finally leaving my study.
The mansion had already fallen quiet for the night, with only a handful of corridor lights illuminating the hallways. My footsteps echoed softly as I descended the grand staircase, already thinking about the few hours of sleep I might get before tomorrow’s meetings began all over again.
I had barely reached the last step when Butler Harris hurried toward me with his usual composed expression, though tonight there was an unmistakable hint of hesitation on his face.
"Alpha," he began respectfully. "Lady Charlotte has requested-"
I raised a hand before he could finish. Harris immediately fell silent. For a brief second, guilt flickered through me because the man was only doing his job, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to hear another complaint tonight. Another request. Another demand. Another problem that somehow required my immediate attention.
Without saying a word, I turned away from him and started climbing the staircase again. Behind me, I heard the butler quietly excuse himself before walking in the opposite direction.
The moment Charlotte’s name disappeared from my hearing, I let out a long breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Lately, every conversation involving her seemed to end the same way. She disliked the flowers arranged in the sitting room. The chef had used the wrong seasoning. The nursery furniture wasn’t arriving quickly enough. The curtains in her bedroom weren’t blocking enough sunlight. The guards outside her room looked unfriendly. The tea was too hot. The tea was too cold.
No matter how much effort Darien and I put into making sure she remained comfortable during her pregnancy, another complaint always surfaced the very next day. At some point, I had unconsciously stopped visiting her unless absolutely necessary. Even our conversations had become shorter. More mechanical. I fulfilled my responsibilities because they were mine to fulfill, yet I no longer found myself wanting to remain in the same room any longer than duty required. It was exhausting in a way I hadn’t expected.
Only if she was as sensible as Rose...
The thought appeared so naturally that I stopped walking altogether.
Rose.
For several seconds, I simply stood there in the middle of the empty hallway, staring at nothing. It had already been two months since her birthday.
Two months since the night everything had fallen apart.
The memory replayed itself with cruel clarity, just as it did every single night. Her devastated eyes. Her trembling voice. The pain she had tried so desperately to hide while standing before us. I had convinced myself she only needed time to calm down. That once the anger faded, she would remember this was still her home. She would remember that she had nowhere else to go. She would come back.
She hadn’t. Not once. There had been no messages, no sightings, nothing.
I missed her. More than I had allowed myself to admit.
Whenever the weight of work became too much, my mind still instinctively searched for her. Rose had always known when I was exhausted without me saying a word. She would quietly appear in my study carrying coffee exactly the way I liked it, or sit beside me in silence while I finished paperwork, never asking for attention, never complaining. Somehow, simply knowing she was nearby had always made the pressure feel lighter. She had possessed that strange ability to calm the storm inside me without even trying.
A faint smile almost appeared on my face before fading just as quickly.
She would come back...
Wouldn’t she?
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