Chapter 180
180
Adelaide’s POV
Lance said, “We’re going to be mates. No need for formalities. Go be with him. I’ve had paper and ink prepared. I know Cedric started learning to read at three. He must remember how to write.”
I nodded. “Alright. Let’s eat first. I’ll ask him afterward.”
After Lance left, Cedric relaxed and ate greedily, sticking close to me.
His gaunt face and thin frame made it clear how much he’d suffered.
“Eat slowly,” I whispered.
His wolf eyes narrowed as he ate–a stray pup’s instinct.
Only when my pheromones signaled safety did he case his grip on the bowl.
He ate quickly, finishing almost all the meat and sandwiches.
While clearing the table, my nails brushed against old scars on his wrists–teeth marks from chains.
After cleaning up, I set out paper and ink.
Holding his frail wrist, I said, “I know you can write. Even if it’s been a while, the characters you learned are still there. Tell me–how did you escape? What happened after?”
As I opened the inkwell, tears dropped onto the table.
Bathing him earlier, I’d seen the countless scars on his body, old and new.
He’d never fully shifted, lacking a werewolf’s healing abilities.
Now, his left leg was lame–the bone had broken and healed crooked. The doctor said it would need to be rebroken and reset.
Cedric wiped my tears with his hands, shook his head, and gave a look of pity.
His sunken eyes and hollow cheeks made him seem frail as paper.
My heart ached–had I known he was alive, I’d have searched everywhere for him.
The ink was ready. Cedric began to write.
His fingers, deformed from malnutrition and abuse, struggled to hold the pen.
I guided his hand to steady it.
After a few minutes, he began to write slowly, each stroke laborious.
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Writing seemed like a real struggle for him. He just couldn’t seem to apply enough strength.
It took nearly a minute for him to scrawl out a word, “lollipop.”
It took me a moment to decipher them.
I looked up at him with my swollen eyes, tears streaming down again.
That word was like a knife stabbing into my heart, making me flinch with pain.
My wolf whimpered in my mind.
Days before the Frostfang Massacre, I’d visited my mother to discuss border conflicts.
She worried about Alpha Zander, fearing he’d meet the same fate as my father and brothers.
I comforted her, but she remained sorrowful.
I was worried too–about my grandfather, about my mother.
In her courtyard, I saw Cedric.
He looked up with concern and asked if I was unhappy.
I ruffled his hair and smiled, “I’m a little sad, but I’ll be fine. Don’t worry, Cedric.”
I’d forgotten about it, but Cedric remembered.
He wanted to buy lollipops to cheer me up.
After returning from the Shadow Peaks and waiting for my mating ceremony, I spent over a year playing with the kids, easing their fears of losing their fathers.
My nieces and nephews adored me.
Cedric was only five but already very mature.
He saw our moms crying every day and knew Randall was dead.
As a smart and sensitive kid, I spent the most time with him, and he relied on me and was close to me.
Cedric kept writing, his wrist trembling with weakness.
“Rest,” I said, trying to soothe him with my pheromones.
But he persisted, his ear scar oozing silver–blue blood.
Slowly, painfully, he wrote out what happened.
On the day of the massacre, he slipped out of the pack at noon. To avoid being found, he had a young omega, around his age and new to the pack, wear his clothes and hide in his room.
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Then he went to buy lollipops.
That young omega, a former rogue who’d just joined the pack, was someone I didn’t even know about.
Cedric bought the lollipops and was about to give them to me when someone crept up behind him and swung a bat at him.
When he came to, he found himself locked in a pitch–black room with a few other kids. They were captured.
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