Chapter 79

Chapter 79: Chapter 79

Tristan was standing outside the house when Evelyn arrived.

He had been waiting for her, though the moment he saw the carriage pull up, his attention immediately shifted to the man stepping down from it.

Was that... He stepped forward, brows creased. That was Alpha Lucien. Tristan watched as Evelyn climbed out of the carriage, then looked back at Lucien.

The Supreme Alpha had actually brought her home. Tristan’s expression tightened, though he said nothing. He didn’t trust the men in their world, and he sure as hell didn’t trust the Supreme Alpha. How could he? After all that he did to Evelyn? To Valemont? He wasn’t stupid enough not to see that something was definitely brewing.

He didn’t buy that story of his mother somehow finding Evelyn pleasant enough to invite her to dinner. Who invited the woman who’d almost bankrupted their son?

Was he overthinking it?

The thoughts vanished from his head as Evelyn walked toward him, a small smile on her face while the carriage left.

"Alpha Lucien dropping you off?" he said from where he stood.

Evelyn shrugged, glancing back at the now-moving carriage. "Wonders shall never cease, shall they?"

Tristan’s gaze dropped to the bag she carried, his brows raised because it wasn’t there when she left. Evelyn raised the bag up.

"Courtesy of Luna Veronica. Some cinnamon buns."

Tristan stared at her like she’d grown three extra heads. "Cinnamon buns?" He repeated, and she nodded, holding the bag up to him.

"Here, take it."

Tristan accepted it slowly, still looking at her as though she had returned from an entirely different dinner than the one he’d expected.

He opened the bag slightly and saw the buns inside. His eyes narrowed. He didn’t trust Lucien.

He certainly didn’t trust the sudden friendliness surrounding Evelyn.

Evelyn continued walking inside while he stood there, glancing at the buns. He then shook his head, following her into the house.

"Forgive me for saying this, Evelyn." He began, and she paused, turning to face him.

Tristan hesitated slightly. "Do you really trust this sudden friendliness Alpha Lucien and his mother are showing you?" He asked. It was a valid question.

Evelyn pondered over it for a second, tongue poking her cheek. Then she shook her head. "No, I don’t." She stated.

Tristan’s confusion only grew. If she didn’t trust their intentions, then why was she allowing them so much leverage? "Then why? Why did you go to dinner? Why did you let him drop you off? Why did you—" He paused, taking a breath.

"If you don’t trust their intentions, you have no business being so free with them—with him."

Evelyn looked at him for a moment before walking further into the house. "Because not trusting someone doesn’t mean I have to treat them like an enemy."

Tristan frowned. "Alpha Lucien has already cost you enough."

"I know." She replied calmly.

"And now he’s suddenly inviting you to dinner, having his mother fuss over you, and personally bringing you home."

Evelyn glanced at the bag in his hand. "You forgot the cinnamon buns."

Tristan looked down at them, then back at her. It wasn’t very often Evelyn made jokes, but this one landed flat.

"I’m serious."

"So am I." Evelyn’s smile faded slightly. "I don’t trust him. Not yet. But I also don’t believe every kind gesture has to be a trap."

Tristan remained silent, and Evelyn sighed.

"Veronica invited me. She was kind to me. She remembered something as insignificant as the fact that I like cinnamon. I won’t punish her for her son’s actions."

"I’m not saying punish her for her son’s actions, but—" He paused, shaking his head. "Have you forgotten all that he did? Have you forgiven him?"

"I haven’t forgotten, nor have I forgiven him."

That seemed to satisfy Tristan somewhat. "But you allowed him to bring you home."

"He wasn’t exactly holding me hostage." Evelyn continued. "Besides, I had no reason to refuse. If he wants to be civil, I’ll be civil. That doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what happened."

Tristan studied her carefully. "You’re sure you’re not letting your guard down?"

"No." Her answer came without hesitation. "I know exactly who Alpha Lucien is. And I know exactly what he has done."

She walked toward the table and reached for a glass of water. "But if he wants to change the way he deals with me, I’ll let him show me whether it’s genuine or not."

Tristan studied her a moment longer, something uneasy still sitting behind his eyes, though he let it go.

"Fine," he said finally. "Just be careful. I don’t trust easily, and I trust him less than most."

"Noted."

He set the bag of cinnamon buns down on the table, still glancing at it like it might reveal something he’d missed.

"We should send word to the healer. She should have reached Silver Creek by now," Evelyn said.

Tristan nodded. "I’ll get on it. I’ll contact my person inside Silver Creek. He can make sure the message reaches her without drawing attention."

Evelyn nodded. "Good. Tell her to be careful. I don’t want her taking unnecessary risks."

"I will. We’ll know her status by morning."

"Good." Evelyn nodded, already half-turning toward the stairs. "Thank you, Tristan. For everything tonight."

Tristan stood behind, watching her about to leave. He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling hot. He couldn’t let this chance pass—not again.

"Evelyn." He called.

Something in his voice made her stop. She turned to face him. Immediately, she knew something was off—perhaps something was even wrong.

"Tristan?" She called when he had a forlorn expression.

Tristan stepped forward, hesitating a bit.

He hadn’t meant to say it tonight, not like this, not with her still carrying some leftover warmth from the dinner on her face, but he’d been holding it two days now, and every hour he waited felt like one more hour stolen from her.

"I found him," he said. "Your son. I found where he’s buried."

Evelyn stared at him. For a moment, she didn’t move. She wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly.

"What?"

Tristan swallowed hard. "I found where he’s buried."

Her fingers tightened around the stair railings, knees weakening so hard she nearly toppled over.

"Y-you found my son?" She stammered, her ears ringing.

She took a step toward him, her face suddenly drained of color. "Where?"

"The southern forest."

Her lips parted, but no words came.

"The old temple," Tristan continued quietly. "The one near the abandoned moon shrine."

Evelyn shook her head slowly. She was sure she had searched there but hadn’t found him. Just to hear this now.

For a moment she didn’t move at all, didn’t seem to breathe, and Tristan took a half step forward, afraid she might actually fall.

"Evelyn—"

"Take me there." Her voice came out thin, cracked at the edges. "Now. Tonight. Please, Tristan, take me there now."

He hesitated only a moment. "It’s dark. The ride will take hours, and the ground will be—"

"I don’t care." She was already moving toward the stables, her steps unsteady. "I don’t care, Tristan. I’ve waited five years. I’m not waiting another night."

He caught up to her in a few strides, matching her pace without argument.

"Then we go now," he said.

They rode out of the estate and into the darkness. For the first few minutes, neither of them spoke. Evelyn kept her eyes fixed ahead, her mind racing faster than anything.

Her son. Her baby. For five years, she had tried to accept that he was gone. She had mourned a child she had never been allowed to bury.

She had wondered where his grave was. Whether anyone had stood beside him. Whether anyone had prayed for him.

And now Tristan was telling her he had found him. Her throat tightened. "Tristan." She called.

"Yes?"

"How did you find it?"

He was quiet for a moment. "I went looking." He replied. Only then did she remember how he’d gone away for the whole day. He’d been out searching for the grave.

She looked away, wiping a stray tear. An hour later, they arrived at the southern forest where the old temple was.

They passed the ground where she had collapsed, searching for him. And minutes later, they finally arrived there.

Evelyn’s legs shook incredibly. The entire field was covered in weeds and vines except this part—it looked like it had been cleared recently.

"There he is."

Evelyn stopped breathing. For several seconds, she couldn’t move. Then Evelyn slowly walked forward.

Her knees gave way before she reached it. She fell to the ground in front of the grave. The only way to know there’d been something there was the moon sign carved into the ground.

Her fingers slowly traced the sign while she sobbed. For the first time in years, she had a place where her son rested.