CHAPTER 3: THE PHOTOGRAPH

Silas didn’t remember leaving the Crimson Auction House.

He couldn't remember the ride home to Silvermoon territory. He couldn't remember Dante's worried face or the rain beating on the windshield or the moment they crossed into pack territory. Only her voice he remembered. That cold silver voice cutting him like a knife.

"You shall know in due time."

What did that mean?

The question plagued him all the way home. It ripped at his gut as he walked through the pack house doors. It roared in his ears, and he went up the stairs to his study and slammed the door behind him.

Little one.

His child.

Five years. He'd spent five years convincing himself she'd moved on. That she had someone else. That the child, if there ever was a child, was not his. He'd talked himself into believing that Valentina had lied to hurt him, that she'd tried to trap him, that she'd never really loved him at all.

But he'd seen her face tonight. He'd seen the pain in her eyes. And he knew, with a certainty that made his stomach turn, that she had never lied. Not on this one.

He had a kid.

A child he had never seen.

A 5 year old child who knew nothing of him.

Silas poured himself a glass of the whiskey. Downed it in one go. Poured another one.

The study was dark save the dying embers of the fire. He didn't bother to switch on the lights. He didn’t want to see the room. Didn’t want to see where the Moonstone had been. Didn’t want to see the remnants of the life he’d ruined.

He sat down in his chair. Looked up at the ceiling. And tried to remember how to breath.

A rap came to the door.

"Leave."

“Alpha.” Dante’s voice came muffled through the wood. “You have to see this.

I said, "Go away."

It’s urgent.

Growling, Silas. "Everything's an emergency, Dante. My pack is failing. I have no treasure. Mate—" He stopped. Eaten. “Just leave me alone.”

A pause. The door opened.

Dante entered, a white envelope in his hand. It had no mark on it. No address. No return address: Elegant paper, just fine, which seemed to glow in the dim light.

“This came in while we were at auction,” Dante said. It was sitting on your desk. Nobody saw who brought it.

Silas accepted the envelope. He ripped it open, fingers trembling.

Inside there was a photo.

And the world came to a stop.

A small girl.

She couldn't have been older than five. Her hair was dark and plaited into two neat plaits and her eyes were silver and sparkling with mischief. She was smiling, a wide, gap-toothed smile that lit up her whole face. She wore a black dress and carried a stuffed wolf, the fur rubbed from years of love.

She was good looking.

She was flawless.

She was his,

Silas looked at the photograph. His eyes grew dim. His chest hurted. His eyes traced the line of her jaw, the curve of her cheek, the exact shade of her eyes, his eyes, but softer, kinder, untouched by the cruelty of the world.

'Alpha?' Dante's voice was soft. "Who is this?"

Silas said nothing. He couldn’t. 'He just turned the photo upside down.

On the back, in elegant, recognizable handwriting:

She has your stubbornness. And my memory. You will never learn her name".

Silas held the photograph more tightly. The paper rustled. His wolf howled inside of him, a sound of rage and grief and desperate, clawing need.

“You will never know her name.

Nope. No. That was not all right. That wasn't—

"Alpha, you are bleeding.

Silas lowered his gaze. His claws came out of their own accord. They had sliced his palm, and blood dripped to the floor.

He didn’t care.

“Dante. His voice sounded hoarse. “I want everything you can get on the silver queen. Her history. Her connections. Her kingdom. All."

Dante halted. Alpha, that's... the Silver Queen is inviolable. "Chasing her—"

It doesn’t matter if she’s out of reach.” Silas stood with the picture in his bloody hand. “You got my daughter. My baby. And I'll burn this world to the ground before I let her keep me from my own blood.

Dante's eyes went wide. “Your... daughter?

Silas said nothing. He was already on his way. Already reaching for his coat. Already choosing his next move.

But he stopped then.

Because there was something more in the envelope. Something he had never seen.

A little folded piece of paper.

He opened it. Read it."

And saw the blood drain from his face.

Okay, I know about the debt. I know the Blackwood pack. I know about the deal you made with the rogues a decade ago. I know all, Silas. I always have.

"I'll tell you what. Nite time. One supper. You come to my house You sit at my table You answer all my questions Honestly. All the way. 'No lies.'

"I'll give you the Moonstone for it."

“This is not compassion. This is not forgiving. This isn’t a do-over. This is a deal.”

“Your pack wants to live? You want to see your daughter? Then you will come.

Address is below. "Tomorrow. Midnight.

Don't be late.

Silas read the note over three times. And then he laughed. It was a broken, desperate sound, the laugh of a man who had lost everything and was just now realizing it.

“She wants to play games,” he said. "Okay. "Try me. I'll play.

Again he looked at the photograph. At his daughter’s grin. At her silver eyes at

“I’m coming, little one,” he said softly. "I am coming.

The following nite, Silas was outside a house he’d never seen before.

It was a mansion, but not the kind he had looked for. No marble pillars. No armed guards.” Not a gimmick. A simple place in the woods, gracious, with windows aglow with warmth, a garden full of roses that bloomed even in the depths of winter.

It was gorgeous. It was serene. It was frightening.

Silas climbed the path. Before he could knock the door opened.

Valentina stood in the door.

Her hair hung loose around her shoulders; she wore a simple costume of black slacks and a white silk blouse. She wore no makeup, no jewelry, nothing to mark the power she possessed. She looked near normal. Near human.

But her eyes, her silver eyes, carried the weight of empires.

Alpha Kane.” She said. “You’re on time.”

You said, 'Don't be late.'

"I did." She moved aside. "Come in.

Silas passed through the doorway. The house was warm and smelled of something cooking, something rich and savory that made his wolf stir with hunger. The furniture was elegant, but comfortable. The shelves were lined with books. There was a fire in the hearth, crackling.

It was like home.

I felt trapped.

“Where’s she?” Silas asked. “Where is my daughter?”

Valentina shut the door. Turned to look at him. I could not read her.

"Asleep. You will see her when I think you are ready."

“That wasn't the deal.

“The deal was that you came for dinner and answered my questions. She walked by him toward a dining-room. You didn't ask to see her. The Moonstone is what you asked for. And I'll give it to you. Later.

Silas went after her. The dining room was laid for two. Candles Wine. A meal that looked like it was prepared by a professional chef.

Valentina said, “Sit.”

Silas took a seat.

She sat opposite him. Filled the two glasses with wine. Took a sip of hers.

“First question,” she said. “Why did you turn me down?

Silas gritted his teeth. “You know why.”

I know what you said to me. “I want to know the truth.

“Now the truth is—” He stopped. Inhaled. The truth is, I was scared. "You were more than I was. Better. More powerful. And I was terrified that one day you'd find out and leave me. "So I pushed you away before you could."

Valentina's face remained the same. And Nora?

Nora was… secure. She was feeble. She needed me. I thought that would be enough.

“Was it?”

"No." Silas looked into her eyes. "That was the biggest mistake I ever made.

Valentina took another sip of her wine. “Second question. Why didn't you come looking for me?"

"I didn't know you were alive.

That’s not an answer. I have cast you out. I departed. You could've looked for me. You could have looked for me. Why didn't you?"

Silas sat silent for a long moment. Then: "Because I didn’t think I deserved it."

Valentina tightened her grip on the wine glass. Third question. "If I gave you the Moonstone now, if I let you walk out that door and never come back, would you?"

"No.

"Why not?"

“I don’t just want the Moonstone, you see.” Silas leaned forward. I want my daughter. I want to know her. I want to be in her life. And I want—" He broke off. Eaten. I want you.

Valentina looked at him. For a moment there was a light in her eyes. Something raw. Something delicate.

And then it was gone.

“You want me,” she said again. You turned me down. You said I was carrying a man's child. You chose someone else. “And now you want me?”

"I know it doesn't add up.

"It doesn't do.

“I know I have no right to ask.

"You don't.

I know I don't deserve a second chance.

"You don't.

Silas turned to her. "I'm asking anyway though."

There was a silence between them. Valentina looked at him, her silver eyes inscrutable. Then she set down her wine glass, slowly.

"I have another question," she added.

"What?

"Do you love me?

Silas didn’t pause. "Yup.

"Even after all this?"

Even after all this.

Valentina was quiet for a long moment. Then she got up and went to the window, and looked out on the garden.

You turned me away when I was pregnant" She said softly. "I was going to tell you that nite. I had it all planned out. I was going to cook you dinner. I was going to wear that dress you liked. I was going to tell you we were going to be parents."

Silas's heart contracted. "Valentina—"

Do you know what I did after I left? She didn’t look back. I walked for three days. No food.” No water. No cover. I just walked. I didn't care whether I died. I almost did.

I'm sorry--

“A guy named Marcus Cross found me. He was a crime lord. The most feared man in the underworld. And he let me in. He gave me a house. He gave me a purpose. “He taught me how to live.

She spun. Her eyes shone with unshed tears.

"Three years ago he died. I inherited his empire. “I built it to what it is today. And I did it all raising our daughter.”

"Our baby girl."

“Yes. Our daughter.” Valentina stepped closer. “Her name is Aria. She's got your stubbornness. She has my temper.” And she doesn’t even know who her father is.”

Silas's throat constricted. " Valentina—

'I will give you the Moonstone,' she said. "I will give you pack. I'll give you a chance to get to know Aria. But there are strings attached.”

Anything.

"You won't tell her who you are. Not until I tell you to."

"Fine.

"You will not interfere with my bringing her up."

"Fine.

And you'll never, ever lie to me again."

Silas turned to her. “I promise.”

Long moment Valentina stared at him. Then she nodded slowly.

“Then eat your dinner,” she said. "And then I'll take you to see her."

Silas glanced at his plate. The food was lukewarm. He didn’t care.

He was going to visit his daughter.

He was going to visit his daughter.

The rest of the dinner was in silence. Silas ate without tasting it. Valentina watched him, her face a mask. When they were done she took him upstairs, down a long hall and stopped at a door.

"She's sleeping," Valentina said. "Don't wake her.

Silas nodded. Valentina opened the door.

Silas saw her.

Aria.

She was curled up in her bed, dark hair fanned out over the pillow, her stuffed wolf held tight in her arms. She was the image of the photograph. But to see her in the flesh, to see the rise and fall of her chest, to hear the soft sound of her breathing, it was different. It was right.

She was real.

Silas's knees buckled. He gripped the doorframe to hold himself up.

She was so little. So delicate. So perfect.

"Oh, Aria," he breathed. Oh, my baby.

Valentina was at his side. “Quiet. But still.

And for the first time in five years, Silas allowed himself to cry.

They were tears of silence. Tears of sorrow. Tears of remorse. Tears of thankfulness.

Father’s tears for five years lost of his daughter’s life.

Tears from a man given a second chance he did not deserve.

He watched Aria sleep until Valentina put her hand on his arm.

"It's time to go," she whispered.

Silas nodded. Wiped his eyes. Gave his daughter one last look.

"Goodnight, Aria," he whispered I'll be back.

He meant it.