IN THE WOLF'S DEN

SELENE

I stared into Tamara's eyes, and for a terrifying heartbeat, I forgot how to breathe. Her lips curved into what could've passed for a polite smile, if not for the sharp, assessing gleam in her gaze. It was the kind of smile predators gave when they recognized another predator… or prey.

"I had a sister named Selene," she said slowly, stepping around the vehicle with a grace that was too controlled to be casual. Each footfall was deliberate, the way a wolf circles something it isn't quite ready to pounce on. "You look… familiar."

A cold prickle crawled up my spine.

"Do I?" I murmured, tugging Jaycen closer and lowering my chin, not enough to show fear but enough to shield him.

Jax stood behind her, confusion wrinkling his forehead.

"Is there a problem?" he asked, glancing between us.

Tamara didn’t look away from me. Didn’t even blink.

"Not at all."

Anna shifted beside me, tension radiating off her like heat. Her smile was bright, overly sweet, the kind you give when you’re hiding something sharp behind your teeth.

"We should go inside," she chirped. "We still have some kitchen logistics to discuss with the staff."

"Of course." Tamara’s voice dripped with a softness that somehow felt more dangerous than anger. "I'm sure we'll have time to… catch up." Her gaze slid to my children, lingering just a second too long. "Are these your kids?"

My stomach clenched.

"Yes," I said evenly. "All three."

"Interesting," she murmured but her brother wasn’t listening anymore.

Jax’s eyes were fixed on the boys. Not casually. Not curiously.

Recognizing.

The blood drained from my face. He gripped the stair railing tight enough to splinter wood. His nostrils flared just slightly. His heartbeat stuttered not in shock, but in confirmation.

"Come on, little ones," I said quickly, ushering them inside before the air could grow any thicker, before any of us drowned in the silence.

Once we were through the doors, Anna leaned close, her voice trembling.

"That was too close."

"I know," I whispered. "He saw them."

He had. That flicker in his eyes, the flicker that said mine, blood, familiar, was not imagined. It was real. Too real. And it terrified me in ways I hadn’t felt in years.

The kitchen’s warmth wrapped around me as we entered. Spices simmered, ovens hummed, and pots clattered a world loud enough to anchor me, even as my pulse thundered in my ears.

Anna handed me a clipboard.

"Menu's confirmed for tomorrow. I’ll prep the cold starters tonight."

I nodded automatically, but the words slid off me. My mind was still outside on the porch, on Jax’s stare, on Tamara’s probing questions.

"Selene," Anna whispered, touching my elbow. "He knows. You saw his face."

I swallowed hard, gripping the counter until my knuckles went bone-white.

"He doesn’t know for sure. He can’t. It’s been five years."

"But the boys…" Her voice cracked. "Selene, they look just like the portrait of his father. Anyone with eyes could see it."

Anyone with a memory could too.

"I know," I admitted, my voice barely audible.

"What do we do?" she asked, her worry thick enough to taste.

"We survive the weekend," I said. "Then we leave."

"Even if he finds out?"

I inhaled shakily.

"Especially if he does."

JAX

Sleep should’ve come easily.

After a full day of political posturing, territorial negotiations, and the exhausting civility that came with being Alpha, my body should have collapsed the moment my head hit the pillow.

But every time I closed my eyes, their faces stared back at me.

Her face.

Selene.

She had changed.

Her scent was older, steadier. Her shoulders straighter. Her eyes harder. The fragile girl who used to flinch when addressed was gone, replaced by a woman who carried storms behind her ribs.

But the bond…

The bond hadn’t changed at all.

I felt it the moment she stepped out of the car. Felt like a punch to the lungs. Like air rushing back into a suffocating room.

And the children…

Moon above.

One of the boys looked exactly like my father. Same storm-grey eyes. Same fierce brows. Same stubborn jaw. Even the faint smile it was uncanny.

My father had vanished five years ago. No trace. No scent trail. No note. The pack whispered theories. Rogue attack, secret mission, betrayal but none made sense.

And then Selene shows up out of nowhere with children who bear his features?

Not possible.

Not without answers I didn’t have.

Not without lies I hadn’t uncovered.

And Selene… gods, Selene. She vanished the night I rejected her. I searched, at first restlessly combing the outskirts, chasing shadows with her scent clinging to the wind. But the pack was crumbling, my father gone, and Tamara……

Tamara kept tightening her hold. Her presence. Her influence.

Eventually, I stopped looking.

I convinced myself she had chosen a new life.

But now she was back.

And she wasn’t the same woman I once left crying under the moonlit garden arch.

She had secrets.

Big ones.

And I was going to uncover every single one.

SELENE

The children’s room was small but safe enough. Extra mattresses had been pushed together, blankets piled high, a dim lamp glowing in the corner. It was temporary, everything about this house was temporary but for the moment, it was shelter.

I tucked Jaycen in between his siblings, pressing a kiss to each forehead.

Jaycen blinked, sleepy but thoughtful.

"Mama?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Why does the man on the stairs look like me?"

My heart froze mid-beat.

Cold. Sharp. Unforgiving.

"Which man?" I asked, my voice calm only because years of running had taught me how to mask panic.

"The one who talked to Aunt Anna," he said, rubbing his eyes. "The one in the big painting."

Justin.

Of course, he’d seen the painting. Of course, he would notice the resemblance.

I leaned down and smoothed his hair.

"He’s just someone important in the pack," I whispered. "You’re special all on your own, okay?"

He nodded, already half-asleep.

But the question, his innocent, perfect question, hung in the air like a noose.

I closed the door gently behind me, then sagged against it, letting my head fall back with a soft thud.

The walls felt too tight.

The air too thin.

Everything too close.

The wolf’s den was pressing in on me.

And it was only a matter of time before it closed completely.