The trembling door opened to Duchess Amelia and Duke Leander, whose eyes immediately darted around the room.
"LUCA!" Duke Leander roared, his booming voice rattling the windows as he swept dramatically into the room, trying to hone in on his black-haired treasure.
"MY SON, WHERE ARE YOU—"
But his words were choked off when his eyes landed on the scene before him: the soft, tender sight of Luca clinging to Xavier like a tiny, trembling bundle, his flushed face pressed against that wolf's chest while the same predator calmly rested a hand on his back, soothing him with slow, confident strokes.
Duchess Amelia followed hurriedly behind, her eyes immediately narrowing in sharp assessment and exasperation.
"My son, are you alright?" she asked, moving swiftly past her blustering husband, practically pushing him off to kneel gracefully at the bedside, her hands gently cupping her son's cheeks.
