<h4>Chapter 211: A Weight Off My Shoulders</h4>


    <strong><i>Draven.</i></strong>


    After Meredith left, silence wrapped around the room like a second skin.


    I stood at the window, staring into the night beyond the ss, thinking.


    Her words yed over in my mind, soft but firm, reasonable butced with disappointment.


    I hated how she could always say things that unsettled the parts of me I worked hard to keep buried—the parts that still knew right from wrong, the parts that could be... human.


    Well, damn it.


    I ran a hand down my face and exhaled sharply. Then I straightened, left my bedroom, and strode toward the second floor. My footsteps were firm, measured—no hesitation.


    By the time I reached Xamira’s door, I heard the muffled sniffles from inside.


    I didn’t think she would still be crying till now, so I opened the door quietly and stepped in.


    Xamira was curled up on the small lounge chair beside her bed, arms wrapped tightly around her little legs, her cheeks puffy, and her eyes red.


    The second she saw me, she froze, her tiny body going rigid like she wasn’t sure if she should be afraid—or hopeful.


    Her nanny, who had been sitting nearby with a handkerchief in hand, rose instantly and bowed. "Alpha..."


    "Leave us," I said quietly.


    "Yes, Alpha." She scurried out, the door clicking shut behind her.


    I stayed by the door, letting the silence weigh the room down.


    Xamira stared at me, lower lip trembling, her small fingers tightening around her knees.


    For a long moment, I just looked at her. Then finally, I spoke.


    "You’ve been crying."


    She quickly wiped her face with the back of her sleeve and gave a stiff little nod.


    "Why?" I asked, even though I already knew.


    "I..." she sniffed. "I wanted to eat with you."


    My jaw clenched. A deep part of me stirred—one I had deliberately silenced for two weeks.


    Her voice was small, strained. "I said sorry already... for what I did."


    "You did," I said, stepping further into the room. "But sometimes, apologies aren’t enough, Xamira. Not when someone is hurt."


    Her eyes brimmed again, but she blinked fast, trying to be strong. I admired that. She had always been a fiery little thing, stubborn—maybe too much like me.


    "I only did it because... because I thought your new wife was going to steal you from me," she mumbled. "I thought you would no longer care about me with her next to you."


    I stopped in my tracks.


    "And who made you think that way?" I asked sharply, pretending not to know a thing.


    She hesitated, then whispered, "Ms. Fellowes."


    My anger surged, but I pushed it back down where it belonged. "And you believed her?"


    She nodded once, and then lowered her gaze.


    I let out a low breath and walked over to her slowly, kneeling down to her level.


    "I want to make one thing very clear to you," I said, voice even. "You are not to listen to Wanda again. Not about my wife. Not about me. Not about anything. Understood?"


    Xamira nodded, eyes wide now.


    "Wanda manipted you. You made a mistake, but it wasn’t entirely yours." I paused. "Still, when we make mistakes, we have to face the consequences. That’s what I’ve been trying to teach you."


    "I’m sorry, Daddy," she whispered again.


    I reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I know. And it’s time that punishment ends."


    She blinked, confused. "You mean..."


    "From tomorrow onwards, you will resume dining with us at the table," I said. "But if anything like that ever happens again—"


    "It won’t, Daddy!" she cried quickly, scrambling forward to hug me around the neck. "I swear, it won’t! I will be good, I promise!"


    Her arms were so small, but the grip was strong. She held on like she was afraid I would change my mind.


    I patted her back once, then pulled her away slightly to look at her face. "You will go to my wife tomorrow and apologize properly. Not just for what you did, but for believing lies about her."


    She nodded furiously.


    "Good."


    I stood up. "Get some rest. You will need to look presentable at breakfast tomorrow."


    Xamira gave me a watery little smile. "Okay."


    Just as I turned to leave, her tiny voice reached me again.


    "Daddy?"


    I looked back.


    "Thank you." She said, her eyes lighting up with a mega-watt smile. At least the sniffling was gone.


    I nodded, then something urred to me, so I said to her. "I am not only one who wants to see you back at the table," I added, my voice low. "You should thank my wife as well."


    Xamira blinked, confused at first. "Lady Meredith?"


    "Yes." I stepped back toward the door. "She was the one who asked me to lift your punishment."


    The look that crossed her face—shock, then guilt, then awe—said everything. Her eyes widened, and her little mouth parted in disbelief.


    "She... she did?"


    "She did," I confirmed. "Even after what happened."


    Xamira’s small fingers curled around the nket draped over her knees. "I... I thought she hated me..."


    I shook my head once. "Meredith doesn’t hate people easily. That’s something you wille to understand."


    Her eyes dropped, shame darkening her small features.


    "Tomorrow, when you see her—thank her," I told her firmly. "And don’t forget to apologize properly, and with honesty."


    "Okay, Daddy." She nodded again, this time slower, more thoughtful. "I will. I promise. Good night, Daddy," she said with determination in her tone.


    "Hmm," I hummed. "Go to bed."


    I gave her onest look and stepped out, shutting the door behind me.


    Behind the door, my steps slowed. The weight of everything that had pressed heavily in my chest was gone entirely.


    And surprisingly, I couldn’t feel any weight on my shoulders anymore.


    As I walked the steps up to the third floor, Rhovan stirred somewhere at the back of my head.


    <i>"Well done, Draven. You have done well with our mate and the little child. Well done." </i>