Chapter 1206

The scorching breath tickled the edges of Thalassa's ear, carrying an invasive scent of peril.

Her body tensed, frozen in place, her pupils dilated, eyes flickering with uncertainty.

Lysander's words were eerily familiar. Weren't they the same ones she'd uttered to him not too long ago?

Back then, when little Elowen had offered Lysander some homemade cookies, Thalassa, worried that he'd refuse and hurt the child's feelings, had advised him, “Don’t reject the kindness of a child; it might break their heart.”

Now, Lysander had turned her words back on her. How could she possibly refuse?

But sitting on his lap, this way—when a child does it, it’s the sweetness of a father-daughter bond.

And her? Sitting on Lysander’s lap, it could only seem awkward, the sort of thing to set tongues wagging and minds wandering.

Thalassa squirmed uncomfortably, her body rigid, her cheeks burning, she reminded him, “Your leg is still injured. Shouldn’t you be more careful?”

His leg, after all, was still recovering from that nasty burn.

“It’s fine,” Lysander murmured in his deep, resonant voice, his hand circling her waist to pull her closer, adjusting her seating.

Just as he would with Elowen, cradling her small frame, he enveloped Thalassa, creating the image of her nestled safely in his arms.

Although Thalassa was an adult, next to Lysander, her petite form seemed childlike in his strong, broad embrace.

Feeling the masculine scent of him, being held like a child, her face turned a deeper shade of red and her breathing grew labored. But Lysander's words left her unable to struggle or protest, and she didn’t dare to.

Behind her was the heat of Lysander's abdomen, a constant reminder of the potential danger, warning her that any reckless movement might switch on his predatory instincts, and she’d be truly caught in the wolf’s den.

So even with her embarrassment and discomfort, she remained still, enduring the closeness.

Sensing her compliance, Lysander was pleased. His deep eyes shifted to Elowen, who was holding up the phone, “Go ahead and take the picture.”

Elowen, beaming like a blooming flower, lifted the phone, stepped back, and the other children gathered around, peering at the screen with sparkling curiosity.

“Mommy, you look so worried. Give us a smile,” Elowen said earnestly, her large, luminous eyes shifting from the phone to Thalassa, urging her to look happier for the photo.

Caught off guard, Thalassa realized she was supposed to present her best self for the picture. She forced a smile, feeling Lysander's warmth at her back and the innocent, charming faces of the children before her.

Her heart was torn between the fear of Lysander turning into a wolf and the pure joy of the children's innocence.

“Daddy, Mommy smiled, now it’s your turn,” Elowen chimed in.

He was so stunning that a single glance could intoxicate the soul. New chąpter avąilable oո

“Mommy, Daddy’s smiling. Now look at the camera,” Elowen’s sweet voice pulled Thalassa back from her trance.

With a flustered smile, she posed for the photograph.