Chapter 23
Aubrey
The clock above the cafe door ticks away, a relentless reminder of the time slipping through my fingers. Each passing minute ratchets up the tension coiling in my stomach, an uneasy dance between nervousness and anticipation. I can’t help but steal glances at King Soren and his son, Max, as I deliver steaming cups of coffee to other patrons.
“Everything alright, Brielle?” Marianne asks, her brow furrowed with concern. I force a smile, my hand trembling ever so slightly as I set down a plate.
“Yeah, just… ready for the day to be over,” I admit, my gaze flickering back to the regal figures occupying a corner booth. The sight of King Soren, so powerful yet tender with his child, sends a shiver down my spine—an intoxicating blend of fear and attraction that I’m not sure what to do with.
The café’s usual hum of chatter fades to a dull roar as my pulse quickens. I can sense King Soren’s eyes on me, heavy with an intensity that belies the casual setting. With every passing second, my skin prickles with awareness, and I find myself fumbling slightly with the coffee cups, my nervousness mirrored in the clatter of porcelain.
When my shift is a few minutes from over, my fingers fumble slightly as I untie the apron, the fabric suddenly feeling like chains that bind me to this place. Hanging it up with a practiced swing, I turn to Marianne, who’s busy tallying the day’s receipts. “Hey, I’m on for the morning shift tomorrow,
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right?” My voice is steady, but inside, I’m a storm of nerves knowing the king hasn’t left yet.
“Yep, bright and early,” Marianne replies without looking up, her brows knitted in concentration.
I nod, trying to focus on the mundane conversation, though my gaze involuntarily drifts across the cafe. It lingers on King Soren–his regal posture, the way his hand gently steadies Max at his side. The sight sends an unfamiliar flutter through my chest, an attraction mingled with apprehension. With each tick of the clock, I become more desperate to escape to the safety of home, to check on Grandma and shake off the weight of his presence.
“Alright, see you then,” I murmur, already sidestepping towards the door when a tiny pressure against my leg halts me mid–stride. Looking down, my heart squeezes at the sight of Max, his large eyes shimmering pools of hope.
“Hello, Max,” I say, the tension in my tone melting into a warm smile for the small boy whose innocence seems untouched by the harshness of pack politics. Despite my own turmoil, I can’t help but be drawn into his little world, a momentary respite from betrayal and heartache.
“Max!” comes King Soren’s voice. I glance up at him, feeling the vast expanse of air shrink between us. His height casts a shadow that feels like an eclipse over my own petite form. He looms large, not just in stature but in presence–a king in every sense, his authority radiating off him like heat from the midday sun.
But it’s not just his command that unnerves me; it’s the way my heart stutters at the sight of him. The sunlight catches the
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silver threads in his beard, and for a moment, I am entranced by the contrast the hard lines of a ruler softened by signs of vulnerability.
His gaze shifts to Max and something inside me twists. There, in the depths of his stormy eyes, I glimpse a father’s love so fierce it could move mountains or tear down walls. It’s a look that speaks of sleepless nights and whispered promises, of a heart entwined irrevocably with his child’s.
“Sorry,” I whisper, the word slipping out before I can catch it. My cheeks flame with a mix of embarrassment and something else—an inexplicable pull towards this man who embodies both my deepest fears and unacknowledged desires.
“Is everything alright?” I ask, though it’s clear it’s not. My voice trembles, betraying my nervousness–a need to flee back to the safety of my grandmother’s house, yet also a longing to linger in the presence of the king before me.
My thoughts race back to my grandmother, waiting at home, her health fragile like the last autumn leaf clinging to a branch. I need to go home, to ensure she’s alright, yet here I stand, captivated by this man who represents everything my world isn’t–graceful, powerful, untouchable.
“Max, come here,” King Soren commands again, softer this time, but no less insistent.
A pang of empathy twinges in my chest for the little prince. He looks up at his father with wide, innocent eyes, so full of hope and longing. And there it is again, that pull toward the king, a yearning to be part of their world, if only for a fleeting
moment.
I shake my head, trying to dispel the foolish thoughts. This
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isn’t some fairy tale; it’s real life, and I’m just a waitress with too many worries and not enough answers. Trying to hide from the very man standing in front of me I also remind myself. With a deep breath, I steel myself against the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. It’s time to focus, time to finish my shift and return to my grandmother’s, away from the allure of King Soren and his son.
“Sorry,” slips from my lips once more, an apology to no one in particular–for my wandering thoughts, for the ache in my heart, for the secrets I keep locked away. It’s time to leave, time to escape the king’s magnetic presence before I get drawn into a world where I surely don’t belong.
“Please, Dad, please…” Max’s whisper–soft plea pulls at my heartstrings.
