It was just before dawn when they finally arrived at the Ancient Blood Pack.
Charlotte could barely contain herself.
Her face was lit with pure joy as she gazed out the window, her eyes drinking in every familiar detail. There was something almost childlike about her excitement as if she were returning to the one place that had always felt like home.
As the packhouse came into view, she turned toward Gérard. He had been watching her the entire time, his gaze quiet, observant.
She fidgeted with her fingers before speaking, her voice small, uncertain.
"H… how do you want me to treat you in front of my family?"
She knew he didn't want others to see that side of him the softer one. He must have had his reasons. And after everything he had done by bringing her here, she was willing to respect that.
He reached out, tilting her chin up so she would meet his eyes.
"Treat me however you like, princess," he murmured.
