Chapter 22 - Sam

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Sam’s POV

When Marcy’s wolf dragged Isabeau away from me, I was afraid that she’ll do something that Jacques and I will never forgive. Thank God she didn’t.

Marcy leaves for my room to change. Jacques gives me a look to tell him everything. When I mean everything, it’s everything.

“This is impossible,” Jacques mumbles, hugging Isabeau to his chest.

“I thought it was a joke too, that is until I met Marcy’s mother. Jacques, now I know why papa sent me here. He asked me to look for Marcy and my mother,” I say.

Isabeau unattach herself from Jacques to hug me. I pick her up easily and walk over to the couch. Jacques sits on the sofa, looking lost as Isabeau sits on my lap, looking around at my apartment.

She looks at me with a frown. “Where’s the Queen?”

Jacques cracks a smile at his sister’s question.

“She’s in the palace,” I reply, playing with her long blond hair.

Isabeau’s head snap up to look at Marcy, who is now wearing my clothes. Marcy sits next to me while I offer her a smile. She didn’t see my smile, concentrating fully on Isabeau.

“I’m sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to scare you like that, I’ll control my wolf better in the future,” Marcy apologizes.

I can tell that Isabeau is going to like her soon.

Jacques growls quietly. “Don’t talk to my sister, Mutt,” he warns, glaring daggers at her from across the room. I give him a warning look which he easily ignores.

Marcy’s face twists from sincere to anger as she growls back at him, “Then don’t try and turn my own sister against me, Leech.”

Jacques’ glare deepens. “I’ll never hurt Sam.”

“I didn’t say hurt, I said turn her against me.”

“Enough! We have a serious matter in our hands that can cause a war and the two of you are bickering like little children because of what species you are! If there is a war, we might have to cooperate so you two should just shut up and pay attention!” I finally burst out. Did I mention that I have a short temper?

Jacques and Marcy look down at their feet at shame. Isabeau is a little shaken up by my outburst.

Jacques scoffs and mumbles in French, “British and their pride.”

Marcy cracks a smile. “Did you know that I know French?”

His eyes widen as he looks at me, asking me if she was joking.

I slowly shake my head. “This is why I speak Latin with you earlier,” I say in Latin.

Poor Isabeau is so confused that she looks at the three of us quizzically.

Jacques gives me his famous mysterious smile that I hate so much. “Then it’s a good thing we learnt Latin,” he says in Latin, wiggling his eyebrows.

I grimace before rolling my eyes at him. Marcy looks at Jacques and me in question. Jacques keeps his eyes on Marcy as if he’s observing her every move where as Marcy shifts uncomfortably on the sofa.

She looks just like you,” Jacques murmur absentmindedly. “She also has Philippe’s grey eyes…

One of the reason why she dragged me to the pack house to meet her mother,” I state.

Jacques gasps sharply. He snaps his head towards me so fast that I‘m afraid that his head might come out. “She has a beloved’s mark!

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