All Chapters of When I’m Gone, You Love: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Cedrick's POV"How long," I said.Beatrice looked at me. "How long what?""How long has this been going on." I stepped into the kitchen. My wolf was pressing forward, flooding the small room with a dominance that made Clara's teacups rattle in their saucers on the shelf. "The meetings. The whispers. The letters. How long have you and Martin been doing this behind my back?""There's nothing going on," Beatrice said."You're sitting in my kitchen with my woman discussing things you won't say in front of me." I looked at Martin. "When did it start?"Martin met my gaze without flinching. "We were talking, Cedrick. That's all.""Get out of my house.""It's her house," Martin said. "You put her in it.""Get out.""Cedrick, leave," Beatrice said. She stood from the table, and her voice was firm and tired and carried the weight of a woman who had been through this scene too many times to feel anything about it anymore. "Please. Just leave.""You're asking me to leave so you can sit alone with

Beatrice's POVI waited for the shift change.The guards rotated at six in the evening. The incoming pair always spent the first ten minutes in the kitchen with Clara, drinking the tea she prepared for them, reviewing the log from the previous shift. Ten minutes when the front door was unwatched and the corridor was empty and the only eyes on the residence belonged to a woman who had spent the last three days slipping a mild sedative into Clara's evening tea to ensure she slept deeply and early.I felt guilty about the sedative. Clara had been kind to me, kinder than anyone else in Cedrick's household, and drugging her tea felt like a betrayal of the only genuine friendship I'd made inside these walls. But the baby needed me to leave, and leaving required Clara to sleep, and guilt was a luxury I would deal with once my child was safe.At five-thirty, I changed. Martin had smuggled the servant's uniform through the garden gate two days ago, folded into a cloth bag with a pair of flat s

Cedrick's POVThe town was small enough that a stranger stood out.I dressed accordingly in plain clothes, a worn jacket, a cap pulled low. Henry waited in the car two streets away with instructions to intervene only if I signaled. My wolf was pulled deep inside me, suppressed to the point where even another wolf would have trouble reading my rank from scent alone.I had spent three years searching for her.The breakthrough had come two weeks ago. A shipping manifest with a familiar name attached to a small coastal address. A town I'd never heard of, far from any pack territory, exactly the kind of place someone would go if they wanted to stop being found.I walked through the town in the early afternoon. The streets were narrow and cobbled, lined with whitewashed buildings and small shops selling fish and bread and the ordinary goods of ordinary lives. The air smelled of salt and seaweed and wood smoke, and my wolf pressed against my ribs with a restlessness that had nothing to do wi

Beatrice's POVCedrick stood in the doorway of the supply room and looked at the man pinned against the shelves, and the dominance that poured off him was so absolute that Gideon's legs gave out entirely. He slid down the shelving unit and sat on the floor with his hands raised and his wolf pressed so flat it was barely detectable, and his face had gone the color of old ash.Cedrick turned his head slightly. "Henry."Henry appeared behind him, phone already in hand. He assessed the scene in a single glance, Gideon on the floor, me against the shelves, the closed door, the narrow room, and began making calls.Within ten minutes, the school's headmaster was standing in the corridor with sweat on his forehead and his wolf trembling inside him. He had no idea who Cedrick was, not specifically, but the dominance alone told him that whoever had just walked into his school outranked every wolf he had ever met, and the fear on his face was the fear of a man who understood that something very

Cedrick's POVHenry's people gave me the address within the hour. I went alone.I kept my cap low and my wolf suppressed and moved through the streets till I found the house. The garden wall was low enough to see over, and the front windows were lit, and through the thin curtains I could make out the shape of the living room. A sofa. A bookshelf. The wooden rocking horse Martin had given the boy, sitting in the corner beside a basket of toys.Martin's car was parked at the curb.I stood across the street and watched.The front door opened. Beatrice stepped out onto the small porch, and Martin followed her. They stood together in the warm evening light, and Beatrice said something I couldn't hear, and Martin laughed, and then she stepped forward and put her arms around him.She hugged him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her face pressed against his neck, and he held her back with both hands resting on her waist, and they stood like that for a long time, long enough for the