CHAPTER 42: HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE LIKES?

Roman’s POV

When I returned to the room, she was exactly as I had left her after Liam’s visit—curled up silently on the couch by the window, the blanket I’d wrapped around her still clinging to her frail frame.

The soft chill of the morning breeze slipped in through the slightly open window, brushing against her skin, but she made no move to adjust or shift. She just sat there, motionless, staring blankly outside.

I still couldn’t understand what went on in her mind during those long stretches of silence.

Did she think about the past—about all of us? Did she regret what she had done? Or was she fighting the haunting memories of the six years of torment she’d endured? Or perhaps... she wasn’t thinking of anything at all.

I wonder when she will be alright and we would be able to have a proper conversation.

"Eira," I called softly.

She flinched—just a small, involuntary jerk—but it was there. Even after all this time, even with my presence becoming familiar, she still hadn’t let her guard down completely. She still didn’t trust me.

But that was fine. I could wait.

"I brought you chocolate pancakes," I said, keeping my tone light, deliberately leaving out the fact that Lucian had made them. No need to scare her further with his name.

I sat on the other end of the couch and gently held the plate out toward her.

She looked at it, and for the first time that morning, recognition flickered in her eyes.

"I know you like it, right?" I offered, trying to make a guess. "You and Alice used to love pancakes, didn’t you?"

Her expression softened slightly at the mention of Alice. It always did. That name had become a key for me to reach whatever part of her still remained.

If Alice’s memory meant so much to her, then why had she killed her?

"You should eat," I urged gently. "If Alice were here, she’d have finished it in no time."

I pushed the plate a little closer, placing it within reach.

Her eyes turned moist and I am not sure what memories flashed in her mind. Her lips trembled as the tears formed. Slowly, hesitantly, she reached for the plate. The moment her fingers touched it, a tear rolled down her cheek.

"It’s fresh and warm," I said quietly. "Eat it before it gets cold."

Holding the dish in one hand, she used her free hand to hold that small pancake and had a bite of it. More tears rolled down her eyes as she tasted it, as if some emotions buried for long were flowing along with them.

She chewed slowly, her shoulders trembling, emotions unraveling with every bite.

She was finally eating. And breaking. At the same time.

I didn’t want to disturb her—afraid that if I said too much, she might stop eating. Quietly, I stood up, poured a glass of water from the jug on the tea table, and placed it on the center table in front of her.

"Water for you," I said gently. "Finish your food. I’ll come back later to take the plate."

She gave no sign of hearing me. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment. It felt like I was speaking into the void while she sat there, lost in whatever memories she had with that pancake thing.

Leaving her to her silent world, I returned to the drawing room, where the others were waiting for me so we could eat together.

I slid into my seat and said, "I left her to eat on her own. She in fact didn’t reject it and..." I looked at Lucian, "Seems like she really likes it."

Lucian acted as if he didn’t hear me and started eating as if what I said didn’t matter to him.

As we all began our breakfast, Rafe—as usual—couldn’t hold back his tongue.

"You never cooked for us, Luke," he teased with a smirk. Once in a while, Rafe would call him by Luke. His explanation- ’I am too lazy to say the full name Lucian’.

Rafe looked at three of us, Kael, Jason and me and asked. "Didn’t you guys feel like eating it as well?"

Even before we could answer, Lucian scowled as he passed us a sharp gaze. "What are you? A bunch of teenage girls craving some sweet shit?"

We closed our mouths just as we opened it and focussed on our breakfast, full of healthy things. Chocolate pancake? Well that was only for when we were kids.

Rafe being stubborn, wouldn’t let go of a chance to get on Lucian’s nerves.

"But how did you know she liked exactly that sweet shit?" Rafe pressed, still grinning. "And she’s eating without making any scene. Hmm...that makes me curious."

Lucian slammed his spoon down with a sharp clang, glaring at him. "You just don’t know when to shut the fuck up, do you?"

Unfazed, Rafe shrugged. "I was just—"

"Rafe, enough," Kael cut in to stop Rafe, before Lucian could lose his temper completely.

Rafe smirked at him, smug and satisfied at having pushed his buttons. Then, without another word, he finally ate in silence.

"Asshole!" Lucian cursed, picked up his spoon and resumed eating.

After a while, when the tension in the air had finally settled, Kael spoke.

"We’re being summoned to the Pack House. The Elders will be there—along with a few members of the Werewolf Council."

We paused mid-bite and looked at him.

"Did Liam file a complaint against us?" Jason asked, scowling. "That old shithead."

"No," Kael replied, reassuring us. "It’s standard. Whenever someone takes possession of a pureblood she-wolf, the council calls for a meeting... You know how it goes."

"We’re not agreeing to any of their demands," Lucian said firmly. "You’ll tell them clearly—she’s ours. No compromise."

Though it was Lucian who said it, we all shared the same thought. We knew exactly what kind of twisted ideas the council liked to wrap up in the name of clan prosperity. We’d seen their games before.