Chapter 77: Breakfast And Kids

The next morning, I drifted slowly out of sleep, my thoughts still heavy and soft, like fog that didn’t want to lift. A calm, familiar voice reached me, steady and low."Riley... wake up."

Lewis.

Even hearing him wasn’t enough to pull me fully awake. I was too comfortable. Too warm.

When I didn’t move, something gentle tapped my cheek. Without thinking, I leaned into his palm, my face pressing closer as I mumbled, "Five more minutes..."

A quiet laugh left him. I felt him lean nearer, his breath brushing my ear. "The Hudsons will arrive soon. You sure you want to miss what happens next?"

That did it.

My eyes flew open. Right. Today wasn’t going to be peaceful at all.

I sat up too fast and felt my lips brush against his cheek.

I froze.

He froze.

Heat rushed straight to my face. "S-sorry," I blurted out. "I didn’t realize you were that close."

He smiled, unbothered. "You wouldn’t wake up otherwise."

I rubbed my eyes, still half asleep. "I think I’ve been sleeping too well lately."

"That’s good," he said softly. "Go get ready. Eat something. Things will get messy soon."

I nodded and slid out of bed, maybe a bit too quickly.

The second my feet touched the floor, a dull ache ran through my body.

"Ow..."

Lewis turned toward me at once. "What’s wrong?"

"It’s nothing," I said quickly. "Just... my cycle is coming. I get sore around this time."

His expression tightened for a brief second, then he nodded. He didn’t ask more.

In the bathroom, I washed up and changed. As I pulled on my blouse, my chest felt tender, slightly swollen. Familiar. Annoying. Even the fabric felt wrong against my skin, but I ignored it and finished getting ready.

When I stepped back into the room, the smell of food greeted me.

Breakfast was already laid out. Fruit. Warm bread. Eggs. Something sweet. A glass of milk steaming faintly.

"Come eat," Lewis said.

I sat across from him and glanced around. "Why aren’t we eating with everyone else?"

"Too loud," he replied. "I like quiet mornings."

He pushed the milk toward me. "Drink."

I raised a brow. "You make it sound like an order."

"You need it," he said calmly. "You’re still young."

I smiled. "I’m turning twenty-one this year."

His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary. "You’re doing just fine."

My face warmed, and I looked down, focusing on my food.

The pudding was smooth and sweet, melting on my tongue. I rarely had mornings like this. No rushing. No tension. Just calm.

It felt... rare.

I was halfway through when his voice broke the silence.

"Riley," he said. "What do you think of me?"

I blinked. "You?"

He nodded, watching me closely.

I hesitated. "Honestly? At first, you terrified me."

His brow lifted. "Terrified?"

"You always looked so serious," I said, laughing lightly. "Unreadable. When you entered a room, everything felt heavier. Like the air tightened. I wanted to run."

The corner of his mouth curved slightly.

"But now?" he asked.

I thought for a moment. "Now, I know you’re not cold. You’re careful. Quiet. Gentle, in your own way."

I met his eyes. "You’ve stood up for me again and again. You don’t hesitate."

"You’re married to me," he said simply. "Protecting you is my responsibility."

Something in his gaze shifted when he said that. Not duty alone. Something deeper. Steadier.

My chest tightened just a little.

And then his tone changed, just slightly, like a warning carried on instinct rather than words.

"But Riley," he continued, his tone steady but unmistakably serious, "I’m thirty-three this year. I want a child."

I froze mid-sip.

The milk went down the wrong way, and I started coughing, barely managing to swallow before choking outright. A few drops spilled onto his shirt.

"Oh—oh no," I panicked, grabbing for a napkin. "I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—"

He caught my hand before I could wipe it, his grip firm but gentle, grounding me.

"Riley," he said quietly, eyes fixed on mine, "when the time is right... would you be willing to have a child with me?"

My heart skipped so hard it almost hurt.

Heat rushed to my face. My mind went blank.

This wasn’t part of the deal. From the very beginning, our bond had been practical. A choice made for balance, protection, and survival. Nothing emotional. Nothing complicated.

So when did it change?

From his side, it made sense. He carried responsibility on his shoulders. A legacy. A future. Someone to inherit what he protected. Even if feelings weren’t involved, instinct demanded continuity.

And me?

I’d been so focused on my own plans, my grudges, my goals, that I’d never once stopped to think about this. Jeffrey’s hints suddenly made sense. I’d ignored them because I didn’t want to face this question yet.

Lewis must have sensed my hesitation. His thumb brushed lightly over my knuckles.

"It’s alright," he said. "You’re young. I’m not asking for an answer now. I can wait."

Relief loosened something tight in my chest.

"Thank you," I said softly. "Let me get you a clean shirt."

He nodded. "Alright."

I went to his wardrobe and chose a crisp white shirt. Clean. Sharp. It suited him,simple, but commanding without trying.

"You can change after breakfast," I told him.

As I helped him, a thought settled quietly in my mind.

Being with Lewis wasn’t bad at all.

He didn’t cage me. He didn’t demand. He listened. He respected my space. Whatever others whispered about him didn’t matter. What mattered was this, he meant what he said, and he followed through.

Words could be empty.

But actions never lied.

Once we were ready, I wheeled him toward the main hall. The moment the doors opened, tension hit me like a wall.

The Hudsons had arrived.

The Morrigans looked wrecked. Pale faces. Hollow eyes. None of them had slept. Yesterday’s chaos clung to them like a bad scent.

Yenik sat stiffly, his injuries cleaned up but still visible. He wouldn’t look at anyone.

Lincy looked smaller somehow. The sharp edge she always carried was gone, replaced by exhaustion.

Julian looked mostly fine. Whatever he’d taken hadn’t completely dulled him, just enough to blur his senses. Sera stayed glued to his side, fingers digging into his sleeve like she was already claiming her place.

And Camilla...

She sat quietly, her face calm, but her eyes burned when they met mine.

Hatred rolled off her in waves.

Good.

Let her feel it.

While their night had been hell, I’d slept peacefully. That alone felt like a win.

Then the Hudsons moved forward.

Anthony Hudson’s gaze swept the room before landing on Lewis. His steps slowed. His posture straightened. Whatever arrogance he carried elsewhere, it didn’t exist here.

"Mr. Hale," he said evenly, "I’ve seen everything. I’m ashamed of my son’s actions. Whatever decision you make, I will accept it."

Then his voice hardened.

"Yenik. Kneel."

Yenik dropped instantly.

The sound of skin meeting skin cracked through the room, once, then again.

No one spoke.

Yenik didn’t dare.

Anthony turned back to us, his expression controlled but heavy.

"Please accept our apology," he said firmly. "Mr. and Mrs. Hale."

I tightened my grip on Lewis’s chair.

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.