CHAPTER 5

Fallon POV

Callahan Pierce steps out of the black Bentley, his broad shoulders filling the crisp morning air as he strides across the gravel driveway of the Pierce Pack House, his jaw tightly clenched.

Fallon Whitaker stumbles back another step, her palm pressed flat against her lower abdomen as a wave of dizziness makes the world tilt.

Inside the grand doorway, young Finley is still screaming her name, his small hands clawing frantically against the guards who hold him back.

"Mom! Don't let them take me!" Finley's voice cracks, raw and desperate, echoing off the stone pillars of the pack house.

Callahan freezes halfway to the steps, his sharp, dark gaze sweeping over the chaotic scene before landing squarely on Fallon.

The heavy scent of pine and dominant alpha authority rolls off him in thick, suffocating waves, making Fallon's wolf whimper in sudden, involuntary submission.

"What is the meaning of this racket?" Callahan demands, his deep voice carrying the absolute, unquestionable authority of a pack Alpha.

Sable immediately shifts her stance, stepping gracefully into his line of sight with fresh tears glistening on her lashes.

"Callahan, thank the Moon Goddess you're here," Sable whimpers, her voice trembling with manufactured fragility as she reaches out to lightly touch his sleeve. "I tried to welcome our son, but Fallon refuses to let him go."

Blythe Callahan chimes in instantly, her tone dripping with venom as she glares across the courtyard at Fallon. "The woman has been brainwashing the boy for five years, Callahan! She's using him as a leash to keep her claws in our pack!"

Callahan's dark eyes narrow into lethal slits, shifting back to Fallon with a cold, punishing fury that cuts deeper than any blade.

Fallon stands frozen by the edge of the drive, her fingers soaked in the warm blood spreading down her thigh, her vision blurring at the edges from the excruciating pain tearing through her body.

She opens her mouth to defend herself, to scream the truth about his lies, but the words die in her throat as Callahan takes two long, menacing strides toward her.

"Is this true, Fallon?" Callahan asks, his voice dropping an octave into a low, dangerous rumble that vibrates right through her chest. "Are you using my flesh and blood to play petty games behind my back?"

Fallon stares up into the face of her mate—the man who claimed her body in the dark while loving another woman in the light—and feels every fragile piece of her heart shatter into dust.

She doesn't answer. She can't.

Instead, she sways on her feet, her pale lips parting on a ragged breath as the agonizing cramp in her stomach doubles her over completely.

"Stop acting for an audience," Callahan snarls, misinterpreting her collapse as weakness and gripping her upper arm with fingers like iron bands to haul her upright.

Fallon lets out a choked, breathless cry, her knees finally buckling beneath her as she collapses against his chest, sliding down until her boots hit the dirt.

Callahan freezes, his hand pulling back from her arm.

His fingers are smeared dark with fresh, sticky blood.

The courtyard falls into an absolute, deathly silence, the only sound being Finley's frantic crying in the background.

Callahan stares down at his crimson-stained palm, his dark eyes widening in sudden, unadulterated shock as the heavy scent of copper and distress floods the air around them.

Callahan POV

Callahan Pierce steps out of the black Maybach, his broad shoulders filling the doorway as his sharp, dominant gaze sweeps over the driveway of the Pierce Pack House.

He spots young Finley sobbing in the distance, then turns his dark eyes straight toward Fallon, who is still kneeling in the dirt, her fingers slick with dark crimson.

"Finley, come here," Callahan commands, his voice dropping into the low, effortless authority of an Alpha.

The guards immediately step back, and Finley dashes across the stone courtyard, throwing his small arms around Callahan's waist.

"Dad! They wouldn't let me go!" Finley wails, his small frame shaking.

Callahan kneels down, lifting his son into his arms and stroking his head with steady reassurance. "Tell me what happened, pup."

Before Finley can speak, Sable steps forward, dabbing a handkerchief against her dry eyes with practiced fragility.

"It was just a misunderstanding, Callahan. I tried to greet our son, but Fallon panicked and caused a scene," Sable whimpers, her voice dripping with artificial innocence.

"She's a liar! I only want my real mom!" Finley shrieks, trying to shove Sable away.

Sable stumbles back, catching her heel on the stone edging, and lets out a sharp gasp as if she's about to collapse.

Callahan moves with predatory speed, catching her waist before she hits the ground and pulling her securely against his chest.

"Are you hurt?" Callahan asks, his voice softening in a way Fallon has never, in five years, heard him use for her.

Sable winces, biting her lip. "I think I twisted my ankle, but it doesn't matter. Finley's feelings are what's important."

Callahan's jaw tightens into a hard line. Without a second thought, he lifts Sable into his arms, ignoring the blood pooling on the ground beside Fallon. "I am taking you to the pack healer's quarters."

As he turns to leave, his dark eyes clash with Fallon's tear-filled gaze.

"Is it true?" Fallon whispers, her voice cracking as the pain in her abdomen twists like a knife. "Is Sable truly Finley's biological mother?"

Callahan meets her gaze unflinchingly, his expression completely devoid of guilt. "Yes. Sable is his mother."

The confirmation hits Fallon like a physical blow, freezing the remaining warmth in her veins.

"Finley listens to you," Callahan adds coldly, his tone strictly transactional. "Take him back to your quarters and teach him some obedience."

Without waiting for an answer, Callahan carries Sable to the waiting vehicle, the sleek engine roaring to life before speeding down the pack drive.

Fallon stays frozen on the cold ground, her fingers trembling as she wipes the blood from her palm onto her coat, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps.

"Mom?" Finley whispers, reaching out to tug on her sleeve. "Are we going home now?"

Forcing every ounce of her remaining strength to the surface, Fallon nods, standing up slowly while using the stone wall for support.

She ignores Blythe's triumphant sneer and guides Finley away from the grand estate, the boy clinging tightly to her hand the entire walk back to their quiet quarters.

Once they reach the house, Fallon coaxes a completely exhausted Finley into bed, staying by his side until his breathing evens out in sleep.

She steps out of the nursery just as the heavy front door clicks open, revealing Callahan standing in the entryway.

"Where is Finley?" Callahan demands, his voice flat.

"He is asleep in the nursery," Fallon replies, her voice dangerously quiet.

Callahan brushes past her without a word, heading straight up the stairs toward the child's room.

Fallon follows him to the doorway, her hands clenching into tight fists at her sides. "Where do you think you are taking him?"

"Sable is injured and resting at the main lodge. She needs our son with her," Callahan fires back over his shoulder as he scoops the sleeping boy into his arms.

"He is my pup too—" Fallon starts, stepping forward.

"He belongs to the future Luna of this pack," Callahan interrupts, his voice dropping into a lethal growl that vibrates through the hallway as he walks past her into the cold night.

Fallon stands alone in the empty corridor, the heavy silence wrapping around her like a shroud as the sound of Callahan's car fading into the distance echoes through the night.

Hours later, deep within the high-security sector of the elite Ashbourne territory, Callahan's vehicle pulls up before the grand entrance of the Northstar Heights lodge.

Inside the warmly lit sitting room, Sable sits on a velvet settee with her bandaged ankle propped up on plush cushions, a triumphant smile blooming across her face as the front door opens.

Finley rubs his sleepy eyes as Callahan carries him inside, setting him gently on the rug in front of the sofa.

"Sable and Finley, you're both here," Sable murmurs, her voice dripping with cloying sweetness as she opens her arms. "Come here, my sweet pup."

Finley hesitates, looking up at Callahan for permission, his small brow furrowed in deep confusion.

Callahan rests a heavy, encouraging hand on his son's shoulder. "Go on. She brought you into this pack. You need to respect her as your mother now."

Finley steps forward slowly, the scent hitting his sensitive nose instantly.

Instead of the warm, comforting scent of vanilla and rain that he has known for five years, a heavy, suffocating wave of artificial jasmine and chemical sweetener washes over him, making his young wolf curl inward in instant rejection.