CHAPTER 248: IT WAS MY HUSBAND

Meredith.

~Duskmoor~

After breakfast, I found myself in the sunlit drawing room with Xamira, a sharpened pencil in my hand and an expectant little girl watching me like a hawk.

"No, not like that. Hold it like this," she said, her tiny fingers wrapping around mine to adjust my grip.

I bit back a grin. "Like this?"

"Yes. Much better," she replied with the air of a seasoned instructor. "Now... draw a flower. But make it pretty. Or I will erase it."

Azul, standing near the window with her hands folded neatly in front of her, tried and failed to hide her smile.

I caught it from the corner of my eye and felt a small swell of pride—because for all the tension of the past few days... the humans’ brazen attitude. This... this felt normal and easy.

I drew as Xamira directed, only for her to tilt her head and frown. "The stem’s supposed to be curved."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Straight stems look better."

"No," she said with an exaggerated sigh, waving her little hand like she was dismissing a hopeless case. "Curved."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Fine, curved. You are the teacher after all."

Satisfied, she launched into her next lesson. "Now I will show you my favorite animal." She leaned over her own paper, tongue sticking out in concentration. "It’s a bird."

That caught me by surprise. "A bird? That’s a good choice."

"They are free," she said simply. "They can go anywhere they want."

Something in my chest softened. I didn’t say it, but I understood exactly what she meant.

I watched her pencil dance across the paper, shaping delicate wings and a pointed beak. When she finished, she slid the paper toward me.

"Impressive," I murmured.

Her cheeks pinkened despite the confident tilt of her chin. "Of course it is. I am very good at this, my lady."

"Are we coloring it later?" I asked her, already imagining the bright shades filling those wings.

"No. We will do it now," she replied.

But before we could reach for the colored pencils, my phone buzzed against the table. I glanced at the screen—and my heart gave a leap.

It was my husband.

A smile spread across my face, warm and unstoppable, like sunlight breaking through clouds.

Without another second of delay, I swiped the screen and lifted the phone to my ear, still smiling.

"Good morning," I greeted softly.

"Good morning," came Draven’s deep voice, steady as always. "How is my wife doing?"

I felt a blush creep up to my cheeks. But because I had company, I had to quickly work hard to school my facial expression without deliberating on that endearing title Draven just used for me.

"She is fine, as you left her," I replied, already anticipating his reaction.

Just then, his low chuckle rang in my ears. Then instead of responding to that effect, he pushed toward another topic.

"How was your training this morning?"

I leaned back in my chair, remembering the session. "It went so smoothly that I can’t feel any ache in my muscles and joints like before."

He chuckled again, that low, teasing sound I’d grown used to. "Are you sure you’re not feeling any pain because my brother slacked off?"

I rolled my eyes, though the smile on my lips stayed. "Dennis did not go easy on me. If anything, he was tougher today. I’m just... getting better."

"Getting better?" His tone was pure mockery, but in that playful way that warmed me instead of irritated me.

"Yes," I replied firmly.

"Then we will see how far you’ve gone when I return," he said, a quiet challenge lacing his words.

"You will be impressed," I said without hesitation, surprising myself with my own confidence.

"When will you be back?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, but I could hear the faint thread of hope in it.

He paused. "I’m not sure."

My heart dipped, and my fingers curled slightly around the edge of the table. I didn’t know if he was being serious or just avoiding the question, but either way, I didn’t like the answer.

Before I could push him for more, a little voice beside me cut in.

"Is that my daddy?"

I turned to find Xamira’s wide eyes fixed on the phone, her small hands gripping the edge of the table. I nodded, softening my expression.

"It is. Do you want to talk to him?"

She bobbed her head quickly, almost bouncing in her seat.

I lifted the phone back to my ear. "Xamira wants to speak with you. I will hand the phone over to her now."

"That’s fine. Go ahead," Draven said, his voice losing the teasing edge, replaced with something gentler.

I placed the phone carefully into Xamira’s small hands, watching her face light up as she clutched the phone with both hands like it was the most precious treasure in the world, and then pressed it to her ear.

"Daddy!" she squealed, her voice bursting with joy.

I rested my chin on my palm, just watching her. There was something beautiful in the way her little shoulders relaxed, as if his voice alone made her feel safe.

"I drew a bird today!" Xamira announced proudly into the phone. "You know, it’s my favorite animal. And I’m teaching your wife how to draw it too."

Then she shot me a quick grin, eyes sparkling with mischief, before turning her attention back to him.

There was a pause, and then Xamira giggled at whatever Draven had said. Her laughter was light and unrestrained—the kind only a child could manage.

"Yes, I will show it to you when you come back," she promised. "But you have to come soon, okay? You’ve been gone forever!"

Her little pout made me bite back a smile. I could almost hear the faint amusement in his silence.

"Okay! Bye, Daddy! I love you!" she chirped, handing me the phone without a second thought before turning back to her sketchpad.

I brought it to my ear. "She’s smiling from ear to ear," I told him quietly.

"I know," he replied, warmth in his tone.

Just then, faintly from his side of the line, I heard a voice call his name—"Draven!"—followed by the sound of a door opening.

There was a brief pause before his voice came back. "Oscar’s here for me. I will call you back later tonight."

I hesitated, then said, "You better keep that promise this time. You forgot to call me last night, and when I tried reaching out to you, your line was no longer reachable."

A low chuckle rumbled through the speaker. "Alright, I promise. And if I don’t call tonight..." his tone shifted into a teasing drawl, "then I will agree to whatever punishment you arrange for me when I return to Duskmoor."

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see me. "You’re awfully confident for someone making such a bold promise."

"That’s because I intend to keep it," he said simply.

We said our goodbyes, and when the call ended, I found myself staring at Xamira again.

She was humming to herself, happily sketching. That warmth in my chest lingered—stronger now—curling into something dangerously close to... belonging.

I set the phone down on the table beside me, but my mind refused to follow.

Draven’s voice still echoed in my ears—not the words, but the way they carried that subtle warmth, threaded with something heavier... something he wasn’t saying.

It wasn’t just the fact that he’d been away longer than I’d expected, or that his return date was a vague "I’m not sure." It was the background noise I’d heard before—low voices, footsteps, the shift in his tone when he realized someone had entered.

He had switched so quickly from teasing me to telling me he would call later, like he had been pulled into something important.

Oscar was there. That much was clear. But what could they be discussing that he couldn’t even hint at?

I pushed the thought aside, reminding myself that Draven had promised to call tonight. But promises in our world... they could be tricky things.

People broke them without even realizing, and sometimes, it wasn’t by choice.

A soft rustle pulled me out of my thoughts. Xamira was leaning over her drawing, tongue poking out in concentration as she added tiny feathers to her bird.

She looked so peaceful, so untouched by the politics and dangers that seemed to hang over all of us like a shadow.

I envied her for that.

Azul moved quietly in the background, but I caught her watching me with that faint, knowing smile again. Maybe she had noticed the way my face had softened during the call.

I sat down beside Xamira, picking up my pencil. "Alright, little teacher," I said lightly, "show me how to make the wings look as nice as yours."

Her eyes lit up as she leaned closer to instruct me. For a while, I let myself get lost in her chatter, in the simple pleasure of following her directions, but somewhere in the back of my mind...

I was still hearing that door open on Draven’s end, still wondering what it had brought into the room with him.