Henrik could not look away.
His daughter, the same little girl who hid behind his legs when strangers came too close, who refused to let most of the pack house staff touch her was curled against Colette’s chest like she had known her for years.
Laura’s small fingers were tangled in the long silver-white hair, her body was completely relaxed.
She looked… safe.
Something cold and uneasy settled in Henrik’s stomach.
He had been counting on Laura’s rejection.
He had almost been hoping for it.
If his daughter refused the wicked Villainess, the decision would have been easy, he could have walked away from the marriage with a clean conscience and told the council he had tried.
Instead, Laura had reached for her.
And Colette looked just as surprised as everyone else.
“She’s never done this before,” Henrik said again, quieter this time.
Rosella glanced down at the child in her arms and gave a soft, almost shy smile.
“Really?
That makes me feel special.” That smile was another problem.
The Colette Ansgard he had heard about for years did not smile like that.
She did not make light jokes.
She did not speak more than necessary.
The woman standing in his study was softer around the edges, warmer, and it made the reports he had read feel like they belonged to a different person.
Had the entire continent been wrong about her?
Or was something else happening here?
“She looks a lot like you,” Rosella said, still watching Laura.
Henrik didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure he could.
Laura lifted her head, silver-grey eyes bright.
“I like her, Daddy.” The simple words hit harder than they should have.
“You like her?” he repeated.
Laura nodded seriously.
“Yes.
She’s very pretty, she looks like snow.” Henrik stared at his daughter, then at the woman holding her.
White hair, violet eyes.
A face that belonged on a battlefield or a throne, not in a quiet study with a three-year-old in her arms.
If it weren’t for the curse and the blood-soaked reputation, half the Alphas on the continent would have already lined up for her.
Laura giggled when Rosella gently tapped her nose.
“I like you too,” Rosella told her.
“And you are the prettiest little pup I have ever seen.” “I’m not a pup anymore,” Laura declared.
“I can walk and I can run, and Noah says he’ll teach me how to fight soon.” Henrik’s chest tightened.
Laura almost never spoke this much to anyone, not even to him on most days.
Hearing her chatter so freely to a woman she had met less than an hour ago felt like watching something precious and fragile slip through his fingers.
Rysand cleared his throat behind him.
“This is… unusual.” “I agree,” Henrik said.
Rosella looked between them.
“Is it really that strange?” “Yes.” Henrik’s voice came out flatter than he intended.
He softened it.
“Laura doesn’t usually warm up to people.” “I guess there’s a first time for everything.” Laura tightened her arms around Rosella’s neck, still fascinated by the long white hair.
Then she turned to Henrik with the kind of hopeful expression that had always been his weakness.
“Can she stay, Papa?” Henrik’s brows drew together.
“It’s not only up to me.” “But Noah said you wanted to marry her.” Rosella’s lips twitched like she was fighting a laugh but Henrik did not find it amusing.
“Laura.” “What?” She stuck her tongue out at him, completely unrepentant.
Rysand made a poorly hidden sound that might have been a cough.
Henrik shot him a look.
The Beta straightened immediately.
“I think it’s time you went to bed,” Henrik said.
“No.” “Laura.” “No.” She buried her face against Rosella’s shoulder and giggled, the sound bright and mischievous.
Henrik exhaled slowly.
This was not how the evening was supposed to go, he had planned to discuss terms, boundaries, and the length of the contract.
Instead he was trying to pry his daughter off the most dangerous woman on the continent.
Rosella met his eyes.
“I could put her to bed, if that’s all right.” The offer was simple.
Gentle.
There was no calculation in her face, no attempt to use his daughter as leverage.
She looked at Laura the way someone looked at something precious, not like a political tool.
That, more than anything, unsettled him.
The Colette in the reports would have seen a child as an inconvenience.
This woman was already adjusting her hold so Laura would be more comfortable.
Henrik felt the old, familiar fear rise in his chest—the same fear that had kept every potential bride at a distance for three years.
If Laura grew attached and this woman later proved to be exactly as ruthless as the stories claimed, his daughter would be the one who paid for it.
He had already failed to protect one person he loved.
He would not fail another.
And yet…Laura was happier in this moment than he had seen her in months.
Henrik’s jaw tightened as he studied Rosella’s face for any hint of performance and found none.
“Fine,” he said at last, the word heavier than it should have been.
Rosella blinked, clearly surprised.
“Fine?” “You can put her to bed.” Laura immediately brightened.
“Come on,” she whispered to Rosella, as if they were sharing a secret.
Rosella’s expression softened into something almost tender.
“All right, little one.” She turned and carried Laura toward the door.
The little girl waved at Henrik over her shoulder, still smiling, completely at ease in the arms of a stranger.
Henrik watched them leave.
The study suddenly felt too quiet.
Rysand shifted beside him but wisely said nothing.
Henrik remained standing where they had left him, staring at the empty doorway.
Something about the sight of his daughter’s head resting trustingly on another woman’s shoulder left a hollow ache in his chest he did not want to name.
He had spent three years being enough for Laura.
Tonight, for the first time, he wondered if he truly had been.