Chapter 556

Olivia

Before I could ask what was going on, Freya was already walking across the clearing. Her steps were slow and measured, but at the same time, there was a level of eagerness to them—like she was walking toward someone she was excited to see, but was also in disbelief at the same time.

Nathan, still standing beside me, turned to catch where my gaze was drifting and furrowed his brow. “Who’s that?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Someone Freya knows?”

I simply shook my head, at a loss for words. I couldn’t make out the figure’s face, hair, or other features from here; I just knew that it was a woman dressed in a full-length black coat with a black veil over her face, like she was in mourning.

“Someone from Freya’s past, maybe,” I finally said with a shrug. I turned back to Nathan then and shot him the weakest of smiles. “Should we go?”

Nathan paused and glanced over at the pit, which was now fully surrounded by the jeering pack members as well as Mira and the other ex-escorts. He finally nodded, a weary look crossing his features.

“Yeah. Let’s get home.”

We began to walk away from the pit, toward our black car that was waiting a ways away. Before we could reach it, however, a soft voice calling from behind caused us both to turn.

“Nathan! Olivia!”

We turned to see Mira running toward us, wearing what was a far cry from the satin and lace gowns that she had been forced to wear during her servitude; a simple t-shirt and jeans. It was strange, seeing her so casual, but it was comforting at the same time. The brand that had been cruelly etched into the skin on her arm was now bandaged, and hopefully would heal.

“Mira,” Nathan said, a smile spreading across his lips.

She stopped in front of us, her chest heaving slightly. There was a look of relief about her, and for good reason—the men who had tortured her were trapped in a pit, and justice had been served. Sort of.

“I was hoping to talk to you,” she said, then paused, her eyes flickering nervously over to me. “And I wanted to thank you. Not only for helping us, but… for forgiving me.” Her gaze lingered on me, and there was something almost bashful behind her eyes.

“Forgive you?” I asked.

“For ratting you out,” she said. “For trying to trap you, heed their whims, all because of baseless threats…”

“Mira.” Before she could finish, I stepped forward, grasping both of her shoulders in my hands. “There’s no need for forgiveness. Not when you’re just trying to survive.”

She swallowed, and her eyes began to fill with tears. “Still—”

“All we ask is that you let yourself—and the other girls—heal,” Nathan said. “And sometime over the coming months, we may need your assistance in tracking down anyone else who worked for Montgomery. But for now, just rest.”

Mira blinked back her tears and nodded. “Rest sounds good. And whatever information we can provide, we will.”

…

The rest of the evening passed in a haze of sheer bliss as we savored every precious moment together. We cuddled on the couch, watching our favorite movies and playing silly games that had the twins dissolving into peals of laughter. At one point, I even ordered a greasy pizza—a small indulgence, but one that tasted like heaven after a near-death experience.

As the night wore on and the twins’ eyelids finally began to droop, Nathan scooped them up one by one, twirling them through the air as they shrieked with delight. Our eyes met across the room, and in that instant, the sheer depth of love I felt for this man nearly stole my breath away.

This was the Nathan I had fallen for all that time ago—carefree, gentle, and having a smile that could melt my heart. And yet there was a newfound strength to him as well now, a quiet power that had been slowly revealed over the recent event.

He was still spinning with the twins cradled in his arms when our gazes locked, and I found myself wishing I could freeze this moment forever, committing every precious detail to memory.

Later, after we had finally coaxed Elliot and Aurora into bed for the night, I turned to find Nathan watching me, leaning on the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. Without a word, I walked over to him and stood up on my tiptoes, drawing his face down to mine for a gentle kiss.

When we finally pulled apart, Nathan blinked at me in mild surprise. “What was that for?” he whispered, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the twins.

I simply shook my head, unable to find the words to properly express how I felt in that moment. Instead, I rested my cheek against his chest, letting the steady thump of his heartbeat soothe the last of my frayed nerves.

“You know, I thought I might never want to try for another baby,” I found myself whispering into the stillness, my voice barely audible. “After losing Alvin…”

The familiar ache of that loss twisted in my chest, but it was a dull throb now—one that had been soothed by the blessing of having Elliot and Aurora safe in our arms once again.

Nathan’s arms tightened around me as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head. “Alvin was watching over us,” he murmured. “Both of them—the little one and the one who we named him after.”

I nodded, blinking back tears as I lost myself in memories of our childhood. As I closed my eyes, I could almost see him there: a young Alvin, long before I was evicted from the pack and everything went belly-up, with a sheet tied around his shoulders like a hero’s cape and a wooden sword in his hand.

I realized, then, that maybe Nathan was right; they were both watching over us. Two souls bound by the same name. Two guardian spirits.

As that thought took root, I felt something loosen within my chest—a lingering tension that had been trapped there for far too long. I felt my shoulders sag a bit with relief, as if a light breeze had lifted the rest of the weight from them one last time.

“Someday,” I found myself murmuring, “I think I’d like to try again.”

Nathan tensed up a bit and pulled back ever so slightly to look at me. “You mean…”

I nodded, biting my lip. “Not for a while. But someday, I’d like to try for another baby. It just feels… wrong to give up now.”

Nathan gazed down at me and said nothing, but he didn’t need to; the depths of love in his blue-green eyes ran deeper than the ocean, and that was all the confirmation I needed.

Suddenly, a knock at the front door ripped us both out of our reverie. It was well past a suitable hour for guests, and after everything that had happened, a sudden visit in the middle of the night left us both on edge.

Nathan and I exchanged a puzzled look before he slowly disentangled himself from my arms. Together, we quietly crept down the stairs and over to the front door, where he carefully peered toward the peephole.

When he turned back towards me, his expression had shifted—a crease furrowing his brow. Without a word, he swung the door open. I felt my breath hitch when I saw who was standing on our front porch.

Freya and Clarissa.

Freya’s eyes swept over the two of us before her mental voice echoed in our minds. “May we come in?”