Avenging Luna
Chapter 138: Choosing To Stay

Chapter 138: Choosing To Stay

Chase POV:

Our conversation lingered in my mind long after she retreated to the room with Ash. Her fear of me—or perhaps what I represented—was obvious, but it wasn’t just me she feared. It was clear that the scars left behind by Ash’s father, that so-called alpha wolf, ran deep. The thought of him made my blood boil. How could anyone, especially someone meant to protect her, have hurt Leila so badly? The idea that she carried that pain because of him, that it had pushed her to run from me, made my chest ache with anger and sorrow.

Ash’s father might be the boy’s sire, but he was nothing more than a fool in my eyes. When the day inevitably came that we crossed paths, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell him just how much of an idiot he’d been. He let go of someone extraordinary—my mate, my beloved. And for that, he deserved nothing less than to feel the full weight of his mistakes.

But my frustration wasn’t solely directed at that wolf. I wanted to know everything about Leila—what she’d been through, what had driven her to leave not just me but seemingly every tie to her past. Yet, I wasn’t blind to the delicacy of the subject. The guarded way she held herself when I touched on even the most benign aspects of her past told me this wasn’t something to pry into carelessly. For now, I’d let it rest. There were more immediate battles to win, and time was what we needed—time for her to see that I wasn’t going anywhere, that I would choose her and Ash over everything else.

Hell, I’d already made that decision long before she asked me to promise. I would step down from my title, leave my kingdom, turn my back on centuries of tradition if that’s what it took to keep her safe and by my side. A kingdom without her would be nothing but a gilded cage.

Her small concession to stop running filled me with a sense of relief I hadn’t felt in centuries. She hadn’t declared her love, hadn’t accepted me fully as her mate—yet—but that promise to stay, to stop running, was more than I’d dared to hope for in the moment. One step forward. I could live with that.

What lay ahead now was building trust between us. Getting to know her and giving her the space to know me. Navigating the intricacies of this bond without scaring her away again. If we could reach that point, then perhaps the rest would follow naturally.

I’d insisted she take the bed with Ash for the night. The idea of them traveling while someone—something—was after them was out of the question. Even though I knew the suite was warded, the thought of them being unprotected made my fangs itch with frustration. Until I could secure a longer-term solution, they were staying here. No arguments.

"Take the bed," I told her, nodding toward the oversized mattress. "You and Ash will be comfortable there. I’ll take the couch."

Leila arched an eyebrow at me, skepticism flickering across her face. "You’re really going to sleep on the couch?"

I chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "What kind of man would I be if I made my beloved sleep on a couch?"

Her cheeks flushed slightly at the word beloved, but she didn’t argue further. Instead, she nodded and gently scooped Ash up from where he’d dozed off on the couch. His small arms wrapped instinctively around her neck as she carried him to the bedroom, murmuring softly to him about brushing his teeth in the morning.

I watched her retreat, her frame disappearing into the shadows of the room. She was magnificent, even when she was exhausted. Fierce, protective, and so much stronger than she realized. I didn’t deserve her, but I would do everything in my power to be worthy of her.

As I settled onto the couch, the day’s events replayed in my mind.

The fight outside the hotel, the rogue’s last words about "him" coming for Leila and Ash—it all nagged at me. Whoever "he" was, this wasn’t just a random attack. This was targeted, planned. And as much as I hated to admit it, the danger they faced now was because of me. Because I couldn’t stay away, because the bond between us was undeniable.

The frustration of it all churned inside me. The thought that she and Ash were caught in the crossfire of my world made me feel powerless. I hated feeling powerless.

I needed to convince Leila to come back with me to my kingdom. She might resist the idea, but it was the only place I could guarantee their safety. There, within the castle’s walls, with my guards and wards protecting them, they’d be untouchable. I could keep an eye on them while fulfilling my duties as crown prince. But convincing her wouldn’t be easy.

And it wasn’t just her I needed to convince. My people—my father—would have to accept her. Leila wasn’t a vampire; she was a wolf. Bringing her into the kingdom as my mate, as my beloved, was going to ruffle more than a few feathers. But none of that mattered to me.

The kingdom could burn for all I cared.

If they couldn’t accept her, then I’d step away. A crown, a title, centuries of expectations—none of it meant anything if it came at the cost of my mate. I’d choose her every time.

I closed my eyes, the steady hum of the city outside fading as I let my senses stretch outward. I listened to the sound of Ash’s light snores from the bedroom, to the faint creak of the floorboards as Leila moved around. Slowly, the tension in my chest began to ease.

Tonight, they were safe. And as long as I had breath in my body, I’d make sure they stayed that way.

Tomorrow was another battle. For now, I let myself dream of a future where Leila wouldn’t flinch at my touch, where Ash would look up at me not just as a stranger but as someone who could protect him, who could be part of his family.

A future where Leila wouldn’t just promise to stay—but where she’d want to.

....

As soon as the first rays of dawn filtered through the thick curtains, I stirred. A subtle, refreshing sensation coursed through me. It wasn’t quite sleep—not in the way humans knew it—but it was something far more fulfilling than the standard regenerative state I was used to as a vampire. My father had once told me, when I was just a boy, that the day I found my beloved, I would understand what it truly meant to rest.

And now, I believed him.

Knowing that Leila and Ash were under the same roof as me, safe, had given me a sense of peace I hadn’t experienced in centuries. It was strange, almost disconcerting, but also... intoxicating. For centuries, my nights had been consumed with duty, strategy, and occasionally, battle. Rest was merely a necessity to keep my body functioning, a routine regeneration of strength.

But this? This was different. It was grounding. Invigorating.

My mind wandered, unbidden, to the thought of holding her. What would it feel like to truly rest with her? To lay beside her, her head on my chest, her breathing steady and soft against me? To feel her warmth, her heartbeat, as my arms wrapped around her?

I shook my head, snapping out of my reverie. Enough fantasizing. I wasn’t about to let my thoughts spiral into places that would only frustrate me. For now, I needed to focus on making those fantasies a reality. One step at a time.

The scent of the suite was still filled with her—Leila’s subtle, earthy wolf scent mingled with the lighter, playful energy of Ash. It was grounding, making the sterile luxury of the place feel almost like a home. Almost.

I swung my legs off the couch and stretched briefly, rolling my shoulders to work out the stiffness from lying on the too-short furniture. The fact that I had given them the bed while I took the couch wasn’t particularly noble in my eyes—it was practical. They needed the rest far more than I did.

Still, the idea of Ash sprawled out on my bed, his little arms likely flailing in sleep, made me smile. The kid was growing on me faster than I’d anticipated. And Leila... she was everything.

The suite’s kitchen was surprisingly well-stocked, a courtesy of my insistence to always have the best wherever I stayed. Though I rarely used the facility myself, I prided myself on learning a thing or two about cooking during my time with the Order. No one in the kingdom would believe the Crown Prince could cook. Let them be shocked—I didn’t care.

This morning, though, wasn’t about duty or practice. It was about them. My beloved and my imprint deserved the best, even in something as simple as breakfast.

As I began pulling out ingredients—eggs, bacon, some fresh vegetables—I allowed myself to relax into the rhythm. Knife in hand, I expertly chopped onions and peppers, the blade gliding with precision honed over centuries. Cooking for them wasn’t a chore; it was a privilege.

If my council could see me now, they’d probably faint. The thought made me smirk. The mighty vampire prince, the heir to the throne, reduced to making omelets and frying bacon. But I didn’t care. My time in the Order had stripped away much of the pomp and circumstance I’d been raised with, and frankly, it felt good to do something normal for once.