Chapter 13

Vincent’s POV

It wasn’t often I got time with Myra that wasn’t interrupted by the weight of my position.

The Alpha King’s schedule was relentless, petitions from elders, border disputes, the constant whisper of political maneuvering. But today, I carved out a few stolen hours for us. No guards shadowing my steps, no advisors whispering in my ear. Just a father and his daughter.

Moments like these were rare enough to feel stolen. Too often, she fell asleep waiting for me to return from endless meetings, her books clutched to her chest like a shield.

That was why today mattered. Why I wanted her to remember this quiet, ordinary happiness long after we left the bookshop.

Her little hand fit snug in mine, warm and steady, as we wandered through the polished aisles of the city’s largest bookshop. She wasn’t the kind to dart ahead like other kids.

No, Myra moved slowly, her eyes tracing each shelf as though the books might lean down and whisper secrets meant just for her. I could already pi