The funeral

Sophie’s POV

The black dress felt like armor. I’d chosen it carefully, it was elegant but not expensive, modest but not mousy, the kind of thing that would help me blend into the background at Richard’s funeral. But as I zipped it up and stared at my reflection in the hotel bathroom mirror, I knew that blending in was impossible.

Camille had seen Ethan. By now, the entire pack probably knew.

“Mama, do I have to wear the tie?” Ethan appeared in the doorway, tugging at the navy blue tie I’d insisted on. He looked so grown up in his little suit, so heartbreakingly handsome with his grey eyes serious and his dark hair combed back.

He looked like a Steele.

“Yes, baby. Just for today.” I crouched down, adjusting the tie and smoothing his collar. “Remember what we talked about? We’re going to say goodbye to my stepfather. There will be lots of people there, and some of them might want to talk to us. Just be polite and stay close to me, okay?”

“Will that mean lady be there? The one from the park?”

Smart boy just like…. Let’s not go there.

“Probably. But we’ll be fine.”

Soso whimpered in my chest, anxious and restless. She could sense my fear, could feel the approaching confrontation like a storm on the horizon. He’ll be there, she whispered. We’ll finally see him again.

And he’ll hate us for what we kept from him, I thought back.

The car arrived exactly at one-thirty. James was behind the wheel again, and his eyes were sympathetic when they met mine in the rearview mirror. “Ready, Ms. Hart?”

No. I would never be ready, I said to myself.

“Yes,” I said outside.

St. Patrick’s Cathedral loomed ahead, all Gothic spires and stone, imposing and beautiful and absolutely packed with wolves. I could feel them as we approached—the sheer weight of pack presence, the dominance markers, the hierarchy that saturated every inch of this territory.

The Steele pack was one of the largest in North America. Richard had built an empire, and every wolf in that cathedral would be jockeying for position now that he was gone, now that Dominic was ascending to full Alpha status.

Now that the old order was changing.

“Stay close,” I whispered to Ethan as we climbed the cathedral steps. My hand gripped his so tightly he squirmed, but I couldn’t let go. He was my anchor, my reason for surviving this, and I needed to feel him beside me.

The interior was stunning, soaring ceilings, stained glass throwing colored light across the pews, and flowers everywhere. White roses, Richard’s favorite. The casket sat at the front, closed and covered in more roses, and the sight of it made my throat tight.

He’d been kind to me. In his distracted, businessman way, Richard had tried. He’d asked about my interests, encouraged my sketches of houses and interiors, and had told me once that I had talent. He’d never known what happened after he left on that business trip, had never known about the baby or the exile or any of it.

And now he never would.

Wolves filled every pew, dressed in black, their faces solemn. I recognized some of them, the pack elders, business associates, high-ranking members of the Steele hierarchy. They turned to look as we entered, and I felt the weight of their stares, the ripple of recognition and shock.

Sophie Hart. The disgrace.

And she brought a child.

Look at his eyes.

Moon Goddess, look at his face.

The whispers started, barely audible but impossible to miss. Ethan pressed closer to my side, sensing the hostility even if he didn’t understand it.

“It’s okay,” I murmured, but my heart was hammering.

And then I saw her.

Vivian sat in the third row, dressed in elegant black, her blonde hair perfectly styled, playing the grieving widow with practiced ease. She looked good—she always looked good. It was her greatest weapon and her only real skill.

Our eyes met across the cathedral, and her expression flickered, it was surprise at first then it subtly changed to cold fury. She didn’t expect me to actually come, and she definitely didn’t expect me to bring Ethan.

I lifted my chin and looked away. I wasn’t that scared girl anymore, desperate for her mother’s approval. I’d learned in seven years that Vivian’s love had always been conditional, transactional, and ultimately worthless.

We slid into a pew near the back, and I tried to make myself small, invisible. Just get through the service. Pay respects and Leave. That was the plan.

But Soso was vibrating with awareness, her attention fixed on the front of the cathedral.

He’s here, she whispered. Can’t you feel it?

And I could. Moon Goddess help me, I could. The bond that had been a dull ache in Los Angeles was suddenly alive, electric, pulling at my chest like a hook behind my ribs. He was close. So close that my wolf was practically clawing her way out of my skin to get to him.

The side door opened, and the family entered.

Dominic walked in first, and the sight of him punched the air from my lungs.

Seven years. Seven years since I’d seen him in person, since I’d heard his voice, since I’d been close enough to catch his scent. The photographs hadn’t done him justice. Nothing could have prepared me for the reality of him.

He was devastatingly handsome, taller than I remembered, broader through the shoulders, moving with the unconscious grace of a born Alpha. His black suit was perfectly tailored, his dark hair slightly longer than it had been, and those grey eyes—Moon Goddess, those eyes—were focused straight ahead, his face a mask of controlled grief.

He looked like a man who could command armies. Who could break hearts without even trying.

Who had broken mine and never looked back.

Soso whined desperately. Mate. Our mate. He’s right there.

But he wasn’t mine. He’d never really been mine, no matter what the bond said.

Dominic walked to the front pew and sat down, his movements so majestic. Next to him, Camille appeared from somewhere, her hand possessively on his arm, her expression appropriately somber. She leaned in to whisper something, and Dominic’s jaw tightened.

Then he turned.

His eyes swept the cathedral, Alpha’s instinct, checking his territory, acknowledging his pack, and then they found me.

That was when the world stopped.

Everything, the murmuring wolves, the organ music, the rustling of programs, all faded to nothing. There was only him, only those grey eyes locked on mine across the crowded cathedral, only the bond flaring to life like someone had poured gasoline on dying embers.

I saw the shock hit him, as his entire body went rigid, his wolf clearly surging to the surface. His nostrils flared slightly—he was scenting the air, trying to catch my scent from across the room, trying to confirm what his eyes were telling him.

Sophie. Here. After seven years of silence. Of course I am here, loser.

Then his gaze dropped to Ethan.

I watched in slow motion as Dominic registered our son sitting beside me, as he took in the grey eyes that mirrored his own, the shape of Ethan’s face, the unmistakable Steele features stamped on a six-year-old’s innocent face.

The color drained from Dominic’s face. His hand gripped the pew in front of him hard enough that I heard the wood crack even from across the cathedral.

One look, and he already knew.

Camille was still talking, oblivious of what was happening, but Dominic wasn’t listening anymore. He was staring at Ethan with an expression I couldn’t read, it was shock, fury, wonder, devastation, all mixed together into something almost painful to witness.

Ethan, bless him, just stared back with open curiosity. “Mama,” he whispered, tugging on my sleeve. “Why is that man looking at us like that?”

Because that man is your father. Because I’ve kept you a secret for seven years and everything is about to explode.

“Shh, baby. The service is starting.”

But I couldn’t look away from Dominic. Neither could he. We were locked in this moment, this terrible recognition, while the priest began speaking and the pack pretended not to notice the tension crackling through the air like lightning.

Dominic’s eyes met mine again, but this time around, not woth shock but with pure anger. Pure, incandescent rage.

The bond between us screamed betrayal, seven years of separation, longing and broken promises all colliding at once. Soso was howling, desperate to go to him, to explain and beg for forgiveness.

But I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe.

Because I’d just seen my future in Dominic’s eyes, and it was terrifying.

He stood abruptly, ignoring Camille’s startled gasp, and started walking towards me.

Down the center aisle of the cathedral, while the priest faltered and the pack collectively held its breath, And now I had nowhere left to run.