Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

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57 Chapter 57

57 Chapter 57

Damien’s POV 1

The sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand jolted me awake at exactly 5:47 AM. For a heart-stopping moment, panic flooded my system as I reached for it, expecting some emergency from the northern territories where Sera was conducting her heritage search.

Instead, I found a text from Ophelia.

*Emergency at the hospital. My mom had a stroke. Can you handle Adrian today? I’m so sorry – I know this is last minute but I can’t

reach anyone else and I have to get to Portland immediately.*

I scrubbed my hands over my face, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness. Of course I could handle Adrian for a day. How hard

could it be?

*Of course. Take care of your mom. Adrian will be fine.*

Her response came immediately: *Thank you SO much. I’ll leave the spare key under the flower pot by the door. He knows the routine.*

Twenty minutes later, I stood outside Sera’s modest apartment building, still slightly disoriented by the early hour and the suburban

quiet. The key was exactly where she’d said it would be, hidden beneath a ceramic pot containing.

I let myself in as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake Adrian before necessary.

“Mr. Damien?” A small voice drifted from the direction of bedroom. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me, I called softly, following the sound of his voice down a short hallway. “Aunt Ophelia had to go help her mom, so I’m

going to hang out with you today.”

Adrian’s bedroom door was cracked open. He was sitting up in bed, his dark curls sticking up at impossible angles and his blue eyes still

heavy with sleep. He wore Spider-Man pajamas that were slightly too big for his small frame, the sleeves covering his hands completely.

“Is her mom going to be okay?”

“I think so,” I said honestly, settling on the edge of his bed carefully. The mattress dipped under my weight, and he scooted closer

doing it. “But Aunt Ophelia wants to be there with her, just like

if you

explanation. “Are we going to

I asked, genuinely curious about how

of someone preparing to deliver a comprehensive lecture, “first we have breakfast. Aunt Ophelia makes really good pancakes,

watch cartoons

clock on his nightstand and realized we had exactly

get him to his preschool

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57 Chapter 57

is,” I said, standing up with more confidence than I felt. “But we need to get moving

time.”

that only children seemed capable of summoning.

at stirring.”

had thoughtfully left out a box of pancake mix and a note with basic instructions, but she’d apparently overestimated my domestic capabilities.

the pancake process. He told me about his friend at school who could allegedly burp the alphabet, about the new teacher who wore “sparkly” earrings, and about a book

to him about dragons who lived in

pancake with disastrous results. “Mommy says that’s

I agreed, scraping pancake fragments off the pan with growing dismay. How had something so

so wrong so quickly?

with

for the bubbles on top, and then you

he demonstrated the proper pancake-flipping technique. The pancake landed perfectly in the pan, golden

do that?” I asked, genuinely

me,” he said proudly. “She says everyone should know how to

managed to produce a stack of reasonably edible pancakes, which Adrian declared “almost as

ones.” Victory, apparently, came in small and

for their day. I watched other parents navigating the drop-off routine with practiced ease, and tried to

completely out of

his

want,” I said, surprised by how much I hoped his answer would be

the picture I’m going to draw of you today. I’m

give you superhero muscles.”

to Adrian’s level. Without hesitation, he threw his small arms around

hug that was brief but