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41. Blessed Silence

~ CASIMIR ~

There was a moment, a vision blooming in my mind of a different life—a different male. Given, peaceful, joyful… I could see myself as the mate and husband, the reluctant King. The delighted lover and mentor. Happy… and weak. Happy to be weak.

Weak to her disapproval. Weak to the loss of her. Weak to her pain.

I sucked in a sharp breath, fingers clawing into her hip, her legs, holding her tightly against my chest as if someone was about to rip her free. Then the terror rushed in on the back of the rest of that image: Me happy and weak, and failing. Impossible to lead the packs, to maintain my strength, to control anything if she held such power.

Impossible.

Utterly.

Jesse made a small sound, as if she heard my thoughts, though I knew she couldn’t. Her arms tightened around my neck, her nose nuzzling under my jaw, and her body melted into mine. And then I heard them—the snarling and barking, the howls of distress and fury, the thuds and slams of heavy bodies in a last
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