His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

Chapter 51 Chapter

51

When I moved to hug Cyrus, pulling When I moved to hug Cyrus, pulling him close to me, I felt it again-a strange g him close to me, I felt it again—a strange warmth in the air. I could sense Carlos's happiness, his quiet approval of the way I had handled Nathan. It was almost as if I could feel his emotions radiating through the space between us. It was odd, but strangely comforting at the same time. That's when Tina's voice broke through the air. "Why is Carlos so happy?" she asked loudly, her tone curious but sharp.

I blinked, confused. "Who are you talking to?" I asked, turning to look at her.

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head toward Carlos, who was sitting in the driver's seat of the car. "I'm asking Carlos's wolf."

I stared at her, completely taken aback. "What do you mean, his wolf?"

Tina looked at me like I was missing something obvious. "I mean his wolf. It's our mind link."

I felt my stomach flip. Mind link? My heart began to race as the realization dawned on me. Carlos's wolf had a connection with mine? When had that happened? I hadn't felt it before-at least not consciously. And yet, now that she mentioned it, it made perfect sense. I had been feeling his emotions, his reactions, without even realizing it.

"When... when did this happen?" I asked, my voice shaky as I tried to process everything.

Tina shrugged, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "I'm not sure exactly. But the connection between your wolves must've deepened recently. It's strong enough that I can feel his emotions."

My mind was spinning. I had only slept with Carlos once, and I had never 18:08

His Knees His Pleas But Our Sorde in Dose

imagined that would lead to something like this. A deep, strong connection between our wolves? How could I have missed it?This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Before I could dwell on it further, I turned my attention back to Cyrus. "Come on, sweetheart," I said, forcing a smile. "Let's go play Scrabble."

Cyrus's face lit up with excitement, and I followed him to the table, grateful for the distraction. I watched as he happily shuffled the Scrabble tiles, his little hands moving with precision and confidence. He was only a little over two years old, but already, his intelligence was astounding. His high IQ had been obvious from the beginning, and now, as he formed words with ease, I couldn't help but marvel at how smart he was.

"C-Y-R-U-S," he spelled out proudly, pointing to his name on the board. His tail wagged with excitement, and he looked up at me, grinning from ear to ear.

"You're so smart, Cyrus," I said, feeling a surge of pride. But even as I praised his intelligence, I couldn't help but remind myself of something more important. "But remember, sweetheart, being smart isn't everything. What matters most is that you're happy and healthy." Cyrus nodded, though I knew he didn't fully grasp what I meant. To him, the world was still an exciting place full of puzzles and games, and I couldn't blame him for focusing on the joy of discovery. He was only two, after all.

A few weeks ago, I had found an elite kindergarten for him. It was one of the best schools in the area, a place where his talents and intelligence could be nurtured. He loved it there-the teachers were wonderful, and the other kids had welcomed him with open arms. I knew he would thrive in that environment, and it gave me a sense of relief to know that he was in good hands.

It was more than just academics; it was a place where he could grow, make friends, and feel safe. Seeing the joy in his eyes when he talked about his time there comforted me deeply.

As the sun started to rise, I moved quietly through the kitchen, preparing

breakfast for Cyrus. The routine was calming, grounding in a way, as I flipped pancakes and stirred juice into glasses.

There was something peaceful about the simplicity of it, a contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts that usually occupied my mind. Here, in this moment, it was just me and Cyrus-no business deals, no complications, just the warmth of our small morning ritual.

Cyrus sat at the table, legs swinging back and forth as he watched me intently. His

eyes sparkled with that innocent curiosity that always made me smile. He was full of energy in the mornings, always ready to face the day with excitement and wonder. His small hands played with the edge of the table, and a soft hum escaped him as he waited patiently for his breakfast. It was moments like this that

reminded me how simple things could still bring joy, even when everything else seemed complicated.

"Is Carlos coming to pick us up?" His voice broke through the quiet, tinged with

hope.

I paused, feeling a pang of sympathy for him. Cyrus had always looked up to Carlos, and I knew how much he enjoyed spending time with him.

"No, sweetheart. The doctor is busy today," I said softly, trying to keep my tone light. I knew the news would disappoint him, and I hated seeing that flash of sadness in his eyes.

Cyrus's face fell a little, his bright eyes dimming as he processed my words. "But he said he would come..." he trailed off, sounding lost. His small shoulders slumped as

if the weight of the world had just been placed on them.