Chapter 6

ELLA 

It will never be my home.

The thought slips out under my breath, a clear denial, but there’s no one left to hear it. He’s long gone.

Jax follows his teammate out of the classroom, the door swinging shut behind them, leaving me stranded in the hollow quiet. 

I stay frozen for a moment, staring at the space he occupied, trying to untangle everything that just unfolded. Nothing makes sense. Not him. Not this place. Not the way my chest feels too tight for a normal afternoon.

The rest of the school day blurs past.

Classes come and go without leaving much of an impression. By the time I climb onto the bus back to the estate at four, exhaustion has settled into my bones like wet cement.

The moment I step through the front door, Sophie barrels into me.

“Ella‑mama! You really came back!”

She hugs me with such enthusiasm that I stagger, barely catching my balance as her arms clamp around my waist. I laugh softly and wrap her up, holding her close, breathing in the familiar sweetness of her strawberry shampoo.

“Of course, how can I bear to leave my little darling?,” I tell her gently. “I promised you, didn’t I? So I have to keep my promise no matter what.”

She pulls back just enough for her to see me, her expression serious but cute. 

“Everyone promises to come but never does. But you’re the only one who came back.”

The words crack something open inside me and somehow mend it at the same time.

Nearby, Mrs. Chen watches us with obvious relief written all over her face. “She asked for you every ten minutes,” she says. “Refused to nap. She hardly ate anything.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmur as guilt creeps in.

She shakes her head. 

“Don’t be. She missed you. And truthfully… It's good for her. She hasn’t really been attached to anyone since….. ”

She trails off, but she doesn’t have to finish. The absence in that sentence is loud enough on its own.

I spend the rest of the afternoon with Sophie by my side. She’s clingy, shadowing my every move, but I don’t push her away.

Being needed feels… good. Comforting. Dangerous, maybe but still good.

Dinner is chicken nuggets, which earns me an enthusiastic thumbs‑up from a sauce‑smeared toddler.

Bath time turns into chaos, water everywhere, Sophie shrieking with laughter as she splashes water wildly, both of us soaked and giggling by the end.

Story time starts with three books then progresses to five.

“One more, please?” she keeps asking, batting those huge brown eyes at me like a weapon.

By eight o’clock, she finally succumbs to sleep. She’s curled in her crib, her stuffed wolf tucked tight against her chest, her face relaxed in a way I haven’t seen since the day I arrived.

I slip into the adjoining bedroom, telling myself I’ll work on my thesis. I manage to complete three pages before exhaustion wins. My head dips toward the laptop Mrs. Chen lent me, my vision blurring as sleep drags me under.

Then 

Screaming.

I’m moving before I’m fully awake, feet hitting the floor as I rush into Sophie’s room.

She’s rolling in her crib, eyes squeezed shut, tears streaking her flushed cheeks. Her whole body jerks as if she’s trying to escape something only she can see.

“No, no, no!” she sobs. “Mama! Don’t go! Don’t leave me!”

“Sophie, sweetheart, wake up.” I scoop her up, holding her close, rocking gently. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

But she doesn’t listen to me. Her breaths grow rapid, panic spiraling fast.

“Sophie, please.”

“What’s happening?”

Jax’s voice comes from behind me. I turn to see him standing in the doorway, barefoot, wearing only pajama pants. His hair is a mess, his face pale and stricken.

“She’s having a nightmare,” I say quickly. “I can’t wake her.”

He crosses the room in two long strides and reaches for her. “Give her to me.”

“Mama! Want Mama!”

His face crumples at the word. “Sophie, baby, it’s Daddy. You’re okay.”

Then his eyes snap to me, sharp and accusing. “What did you do? She was fine earlier.”

“I didn’t do anything!” I shoot back. “She just started screaming.”

Sophie’s cries climb higher, more desperate. Her face is red now, her breaths hitching as she struggles to inhale properly. She’s hyperventilating, tiny chest jerking violently.

“Should I call the doctor?” Jax asks, panic thick in his voice. “It’s never been this bad.”

And then 

I start humming.

That's the only thing I can think of right now. A tune my father used to hum when nightmares kept me awake as a child.

I don’t remember the words.

Only the melody.

The change is immediate.

Sophie’s scream stops instantly. Her eyes flutter open, unfocused and glassy.

I keep humming, pulling her closer, rocking her against my chest.

Her breathing slows. She relaxes.

I don’t stop until she’s completely calm.

Soon she’s asleep again, peaceful, one tiny hand wrapped around my finger.

The room settles into silence, broken only by the sound of our breathing.

“What was that?” Jax asks softly.

“A song my dad used to sing,” I whisper. “I don’t even know the words. Just the tune.”

The color drains from his face so fast it scares me.

“That’s an old pack lullaby,” he says, voice barely audible. “From the ancient bloodlines. How do you know it?”

My heart slams violently against my ribs.

“I…I don’t,” I stammer. “My dad just… sang it. I didn’t know it meant anything.”

Jax steps closer, his presence suddenly dangerous.

“Who are you really, Ella Monroe?”

Before I can respond, Sophie whines.

We both freeze, eyes locked on her, waiting for her reaction. 

She only sighs, snuggling deeper into my arms.

“We’re not finished with this,” Jax murmurs.

We both reach for the blanket at the same time.

Our fingers brush.

The shock that tears through me is unmistakably sharp, and overwhelming. I gasp, breath haggard and painful in my throat.

This time, neither of us can pretend it didn’t happen.

In the dim light, Jax’s eyes become ice‑blue, the unmistakable glow of the wolf shining through.

And I now know that he just saw my eyes flash gold in response.

“When she’s settled, you’re coming to my office,” he says quietly. It isn’t a suggestion. “We need to talk.”

“Talk about what?” I protest, my eyes widening before narrowing defensively. He glances at me, a look sharp enough to wound, and I turn away, heart pounding so loudly I’m sure he can hear it.

“When we get there,” he says coldly, “you’ll understand.”

Something stirs inside me.

My wolf silent for too long lifts her head, restless and alert. 

The suppressants are failing, and she feels it too.

She wants to obey.

I nod once, not trusting myself to speak.

Jax holds my gaze for a long moment, then turns and leaves.

I stand there, Sophie sleeping against my chest, feeling the fragile world I’ve built begin to fracture.

He knows.

Maybe not everything.

But he definitely knows I’m not human.

Sophie makes a soft sound in her sleep, and I look down at her peaceful face.

I should run. Pack up. Disappear before Jax  starts figuring things out. Before he learns the truth and does whatever Alphas do to wolves who don’t belong in their territory.

But I can’t.

Because I know Sofia needs me.

And despite the danger, despite the impossible position I’m in, I need her too.

So I’ll go to Jax’s office.

And I pray that my lies are good enough to keep me alive.