Chapter 3

Nova

I was surprised to hear that the Alpha’s daughter allegedly had no gift.

As far as I knew, most werewolf children awakened some kind of gift by the time they were three—visions, mind reading, strength or speed, and the list went on.

For a child not to have a gift by the age of six… That likely meant that they had no wolf. And I didn’t know much about werewolf customs, but I could tell from the nasty looks on the women’s faces that it was considered a bad thing.

“Wolfless?” another woman spat out, as if the word were acid on her tongue. “An Alpha’s child, no less? How is that even possible?”

The woman from before shrugged. “Beats me. If you ask me, I think it’s a child-rearing issue. Probably lack of nutrients in the womb or being given formula instead of breast milk.”

The malice in their tones shocked me. I knew werewolves looked down on wolfless people just as much as they looked down on humans, but these women were supposed to adore children.

How could someone who was applying for a nanny position, the sort of job that requires one to love children, say such awful things about a little girl? It wasn’t as if the child had intentionally been born without a wolf.

I realized, bitterly, that perhaps some of these women weren’t here for the job. Maybe when Dominic had accused me of trying to get into his bed, his finger was pointing in the wrong direction.

Perhaps he should have been pointing at some of these women instead.

It was no secret that Dominic was a single father; his wife had passed away six years ago, still eight months pregnant. Miraculously, the child was able to be delivered safely. But Dominic’s wife didn’t make it.

My heart ached just at the thought. I remembered seeing it all over the news—the car accident that had taken Alpha Dominic’s wife had been swift and brutal.

Although I didn’t know much about such things, I knew that his wife was his fated mate, which meant that he had essentially lost a piece of himself when his wife had died. And he was left with a little girl to take care of all on his own.

I might not have understood the full depth of this family’s pain, but at least I understood one thing: what it was like to raise a child on my own.

Just thinking about Lila and hearing these women talk so poorly about a little girl made anger wash over me. I couldn’t help but think of all the people who had gossiped about me and Lila behind our backs, claiming that I was a bad mother, that Lila’s illness messed up my head, that Henry had cheated for a good reason.

The awful things other people had said had severely impacted Lila from a young age. She had stopped trusting people, had had a hard time making friends, had even begun to blame herself for my problems.

If that child, whose mother had died, could hear these women talking so badly now… It might break her.

I couldn’t just stand by and listen to this.

Without hesitating, I stepped forward and cleared my throat audibly. The women halted their conversation and slowly turned.

“You’re here to apply for a nanny job,” I said firmly. “Not to compete for the role of lady of the house. Maybe keep your snide comments to yourself and focus on your real tasks.”

My words were meant to strike a chord, but all they did was make me even more of a target. The woman from before sneered and stepped forward, flashing her gleaming white fangs.

“Such big talk for a little thing,” the she-wolf, taller and more imposing than me, said as she moved forward. I instinctively took a step back, then another. “How do we know you’re not trying to become lady of the house? Hm, human?”

The woman kept advancing, and I backed up into the wall. With nowhere to go, I pressed my spine against the wallpaper, suddenly feeling small and insignificant like a frightened field mouse.

I was never a fighter—especially not against werewolves. A single she-wolf could rip my throat out if she wanted to.

And they all knew it.

“That’s what I thought,” the woman laughed, causing her comrades to snicker and whisper. She flipped a lock of blonde hair over her shoulder and sauntered back to the group, leaving me pressed against the wall.

Once again, I considered leaving—why bother fighting with women like this over a job I probably wouldn’t even get?

But then I thought of that little girl who just needed someone to care for her, and thought about leaving her alone with one of these awful women, and knew I couldn’t walk away just yet.

The poor girl must have felt so alone. I had to try, if only for her. All my years of being a mother and working with children had made me too sensitive to children’s needs to just walk away now.

Suddenly, I inhaled sharply when I noticed a small form pressed into the corner in a very similar fashion.

“Hello,” I said, instantly relaxing as I moved toward the girl. The child looked frightened and wary as she looked at the room full of women. “Are you alright?”

The little girl, a wisp of a thing with long, stringy red hair—the exact color as mine—glanced up at me. She had big green eyes and a cherubine face, although there was a tiredness to her gaze that struck me.

“I’m fine,” the girl said, quickly looking away.

I dropped to her level. “Are you sure, sweetheart? You look frightened. Are you looking for someone?”

The little girl hesitated, then shook her head, causing red locks to fall into her face. “No. I live here.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You do?”

The girl nodded. “My dad works here.”

“Oh.” I sighed softly, taking a moment to study the girl. She reminded me all too well of the traumatized children I had encountered before when I used to be a human daycare teacher—always on high alert, never trusting easily.

Lila was like that, too. She didn’t trust anyone except for me.

“You know,” I said gently, “you remind me of my daughter.”

The girl blinked up at me with those too-big and too-knowing eyes.

“If your daughter was broken like me, would you still love her?”

I froze. My heart cracked at the sound of that little voice, so quiet and strained, as if she’d spent all of her young years crying herself to sleep every night.

Gently, slowly, I reached out to touch the girl’s arm. She flinched, but didn’t pull away.

“Sweetheart,” I whispered, “no child is truly broken. And if you were mine, as long as we’re together, you would feel whole.”

The little girl slowly raised her gaze, her small lips parting. For a moment, she looked like she might say something—but then a familiar voice cut through the silence.

“Now you’re trying to get the attention of an Omega servant child?” The same woman from earlier stormed over, her form blocking out the sunlight as she towered over me and the child. “I suppose it makes sense. Only low-ranking wolves would ever consider a human to be a friend.”

My protective instincts flared. I stood, blocking the woman from getting any closer to the child. “Step away,” I growled.

Just then, the girl shouted, “Daddy, help!”

I whipped my head toward the entryway, where Alpha Dominic was now standing. The little girl raced toward him and quite literally launched herself into his arms. He caught her with ease and held her against his chest.

“Aria,” he said, his voice steady and calm.

My jaw dropped.

The girl… was the Alpha’s daughter.