~Dawson’s Point of View~
She couldn’t die, I wouldn’t accept that. For all her faults she was my mother, the only one I’d ever have. She gave her entire life to her children, to the crown. To the Drexel dynasty.
Half the palace was gathered outside the medical ward, desperate for word. The word was, she was in a coma and it wasn’t likely she would wake. The staff loved mother, they were all highly devoted.
When Willow brought to my attention that Maxwell could have potentially poisoned something in her room, we literally gutted it and sent all her products for testing. We were still waiting to get the results back, I’d just gotten off the phone with the lab and after some choice words they promised to have it all done today.
~Willow’s Point of View~ We literally had no way to get an unconscious Dawson out of the medical ward without anyone seeing. It was bad enough I just ran through like someone was dying, people would want to know why. I hated having to be so accountable to people, having to explain myself. It was quite a burden to shoulder. *Can’t just walk around naked huh? That sucks. Guess what I can do that,* Mila said. I nearly snorted. Like I didn’t know. Ever since the incident where she almost made me pee my pants during a rather important time, she’s been constantly reminding me of things she can get away with and do that I can’t. *What’s wrong with our mate,* she asked, as I stroked his hair.
~Damien's Point of View~ By the time I got back to my mom’s room, dad had fallen asleep. His heartbeat was a bit slower than I liked and his color was off, but I didn’t see what we could do about it. I ordered another bed to be brought in and I didn’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. It took my brother and I along with two male nurses to get him into the bed and situated. We pushed the beds together making one. Draven then joined their hands. Dad seemed just as lifeless. I wanted him to wake up and fight with me, argue with me about staying out all night. Tell me I wasn’t going to amount to anything. Just say something, have life behind his eyes. He looked nothing like the virile and strong King he was just a month ago. I knew Draven was having the same thoughts.
~Draven’s Point of View~ For three days now I’ve been an orphan. My entire life the big legacy of the Dubois Drexel families was drilled into my mind until I could recite our family tree by heart. In some regards I felt as if it was all slipping away. I looked at my brothers and our mates and knew that wasn’t true but it still seemed that way. You can take all the precautions in the world, have the finest security. Live in a damn palace and it doesn’t matter. Feeling safe is just that, a feeling. It’s not real. I put my head on Jeanette’s shoulder as the minister began to speak. Our family believed in cremation, at least half your ashes were to be carried by the wind. The rest could be buried or kept b
~Willow’s Point of View~ Draven arranged for Victoria, Jeanette and myself to meet with Delia’s girlfriends. I wasn’t sure exactly why it had to be us specifically but I supposed they felt it would grease their wheels. It would be easier to talk with three pregnant she-wolves than with four huge and intimidating lycans. Two that have big crowns on their heads whether they actually do at the moment or not. I supposed talking to anyone with the word ‘King’ in front of their name would be nerve wracking. Although I really enjoyed the talks I had with Dante. He was very easy to speak to, but maybe that was because I was mated to his son. He may not have been as warm and welcoming with everyone. Now, I would certainly treasure them. The tender moments we shared.
~Willow’s Point of View~ I absolutely felt this was an all hands on deck situation. I was currently standing in my mates’ office along with Draven, William, Victoria, Jeanette, Brad, Mom, Nicholas and some others that Dawson insisted were their top security people. He was confident they were absolutely trustworthy. I quickly told them my vision then my plan and everyone stared back at me in shock. “Those raggedy bitches,” Dawson said, slamming his fist into the desk and causing splinters to fly. He got one stuck in his hand and my mom quickly went to work getting it out. “I just had this feeling there was something more we were missing. Some
~Dawson’s Point of View~ The ladies had now been in mom’s room for nearly an hour. Watching them on the cameras made me absolutely sick. They also gossiped freely, truly believing no one was listening. They trashed mom, talked about how she didn’t appreciate her fine things. But oh, they would. They would take better care of her stuff. They were all far more deserving. They already had plans for certain gowns, for upcoming events. I hoped they truly enjoyed their last minutes of freedom and complete indulgence. I was ready to reign down absolute fire on these damn females. At least five pieces of jewelry had been pocketed. They did it without a second thought, and bragged about it. I had to leave the room several times because I got so pissed off. I just saw red. Befor
Ten Weeks Later ~Willow’s Point of View~ Trying to find a new normal when so many of us in the palace were still totally new to this life must be what it’s like for a first grade teacher. Kids that are somewhat eager to learn but mostly want to play with their friends and just have lunch and recess. Only us pregnant hippos loved our nap times. It seemed like all we did was have meetings and eat. I wasn’t complaining since I knew it was all important stuff. But it definitely seemed like we were all just making it up as we went. We had some “guidance” but no real adult to stand there and say ‘this is what you do’. Jeanette and I often joked that we were playing house and the real owners would be home soon. It
~Two Years Later~ ~Willow’s Point of View~ “It’s so dang hard to believe isn’t it,” Jeanette said, as we watched our mates and pups swimming in the lake. We made a pact that every year, during our birth month we would come back to camp, if only for the day. You can do that kind of nonsense when you’re a royal with a helicopter at your disposal. Of course there were so many of us now the poor pilot had to make two trips. Maybe three depending on how many people wanted to come. “It really is,” I said, shifting my son Dylan in my arms. He was only a month old and certainly not ready for swimming. But we’d get him there. Thankfully he slept through anything and everything, and if he woke … well a boob in his fac