CHAPTER 6: We need to talk.

Chapter 6

“Mom, I don’t want to go back if they’re just going to make me say sorry for something I didn’t start.”

Landon’s voice was small but edged with frustration as I helped him into his school uniform. My fingers paused on the buttons of his shirt, the bruise on his cheek still faintly visible despite Mira’s healing salve. The morning light filtering through the cottage windows felt too bright, too normal, for the storm still raging inside my chest.

I knelt in front of him, smoothing down his collar with hands that refused to stop trembling. “I know, baby. But we have to try. Maybe the principal has come to his senses overnight.”

Even as I said the words, I didn’t believe them. The memory of yesterday’s hallway encounter with the triplets still burned behind my eyes, their scents, their stares, the way the mate bond had clawed its way back to life like a living thing. I had barely slept, tossing and turning while phantom touches ghosted over my skin.

Mom had already left for an early shift at the clinic, leaving me alone with Landon and my spiraling thoughts. I forced a smile I didn’t feel and grabbed his backpack. “Come on. Let’s face this together.”

The walk to school felt longer than usual. Every shadow between the trees made my pulse spike. I kept scanning the path, half-expecting three powerful figures to emerge from the forest. Landon walked beside me quietly, kicking pebbles, his small hand occasionally squeezing mine as if he could sense my anxiety.

When we reached the school gates, my stomach dropped.

The principal, Mr. Hargrove, was already waiting near the entrance with two beta guards flanking him. His face was pinched, eyes darting nervously. The moment he saw us, he stepped forward, blocking the path.

“Ms. Voss,” he began, voice oily and insincere, “I’m afraid Landon cannot attend classes today. Or any day until he offers a formal, public apology to Kit Kane for the unprovoked violence.”

“Unprovoked?” The word exploded out of me before I could stop it. I pulled Landon closer to my side, my free hand fisting at my hip. “Your precious Alpha’s son called my child a fatherless bastard and insulted me in the worst possible way. Landon defended himself. That’s not violence, that’s survival.”

Hargrove’s gaze flickered with discomfort, but he didn’t back down. Of course he didn’t. He was currying favor with Alpha Victor Kane, just like everyone else in this pack who wanted to stay on the right side of power.

“Be that as it may, the Kane family is influential. Alpha Kane has made his position very clear. An apology, in front of the entire assembly tomorrow, or Landon is suspended indefinitely.”

I felt the blood drain from my face, then rush back in a hot wave of fury. Landon’s hand tightened in mine, his little body going rigid. This wasn’t about justice. This was about politics and power — and my son was caught in the middle because of who his biological fathers were, even if no one else knew it yet.

“I will not force my son to humiliate himself for defending his mother,” I said, my voice low and shaking with barely contained rage. “We’re leaving.”

I turned on my heel, pulling Landon with me. His shoulders were slumped, but he didn’t cry. My brave boy. The walk back home blurred through angry tears I refused to let fall in front of him.

By the time we reached the cottage, my hands were shaking so badly I could barely unlock the door. I called the clinic immediately, requesting the day off. My supervisor was understanding, but I hated how this was affecting my work, my one stable thing in this world.

Landon went to his room quietly, but I could hear him moving around, probably building another fort with his toy wolves. I sank onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. The weight of everything pressed down on me the triplets’ sudden reappearance, the bond that wouldn’t stay dead, the constant fight to protect my son in a world that rewarded strength and punished the vulnerable.

A soft knock sounded at the door twenty minutes later.

I wiped my eyes quickly and opened it, expecting maybe a delivery or a concerned neighbor.

Instead, Marcus stood there, holding a paper bag that smelled suspiciously like fresh pastries and a small first-aid kit under his other arm. His warm brown eyes softened the moment he saw my face.

“I heard what happened at the school,” he said gently, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Word travels fast in a pack this size. I took the day off too. Figured you could use some help with Landon… and maybe someone to talk to.”

The kindness in his voice nearly broke me. I closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a second as gratitude and guilt warred inside my chest. Marcus was everything the triplets weren’t — steady, gentle, safe. No games. No cruelty. Just quiet support.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I whispered.

“I wanted to.” He set the bag on the kitchen table and pulled out warm croissants and fruit. “Landon needs stability right now. And you… you’ve been carrying too much alone for too long, Elara.”

We spent the next hour together. Marcus helped Landon with some simple homeschool activities at the dining table while I made tea. I watched them from the kitchen, Marcus patiently explaining math problems, Landon’s laughter occasionally breaking through his earlier sadness. It was so painfully normal. So safe.

For a brief moment, I let myself imagine a future where Marcus was the one helping raise Landon. No terrifying alpha energy. No resurrected mate bond threatening to tear my world apart again.

But even as I thought it, the traitorous pull in my chest twisted painfully. The bond knew they were close. Somewhere in Silverveil, Ryker, Ronan, and Rafe were waiting. Watching.

The doorbell rang again just as we were finishing lunch.

I froze, teacup halfway to my lips. Marcus glanced at me, concern flickering across his face. “Are you expecting anyone?”

“No,” I said, voice tight. My heart began hammering as I walked to the door. Every instinct screamed danger. I cracked it open just enough to see —

Three towering figures filled the porch.

Ryker stood front and center, his silver-grey eyes locked on mine with unrelenting intensity. Ronan leaned against the doorframe with that signature half-smirk, though his amber eyes were dark with something far more dangerous than playfulness. Rafe remained slightly behind them, silent as always, but his midnight-blue gaze burned into me like he could see straight through my soul.

The mate bond detonated.

Heat flooded my body so suddenly I gasped, gripping the doorframe to stay upright. Their combined scents crashed over me, cedar and storm and smoked whiskey rich, masculine, and achingly familiar. My knees weakened. My core clenched with unwanted awareness.

“Elara,” Ryker said, his deep voice rolling over me like thunder. “We need to talk.”

Ronan’s gaze flicked past me into the house, landing on Marcus and Landon at the table. His expression darkened instantly. “And it looks like we have a lot to discuss.”

I tried to slam the door, but Ryker’s large hand shot out, stopping it effortlessly without hurting me. His touch on the wood sent sparks racing up my arm.

“Not this time, little omega,” he murmured, low enough that only I could hear. “You’ve hidden our son from us for six years. We’re not leaving until you let us in.”

Behind me, I heard Marcus stand up sharply. “Elara? Who are these men?”

The tension in the air thickened until it felt like it might snap. Landon peeked around the corner, eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of fear.

My past and my present stood on a collision course right at my doorstep.

And this time, there was nowhere left to run.