MasukNick and I stare at each other across the hallway.
“We’ll use Alexander’s bond,” I say before Nick can speak. Dr. Harrison’s expression shifts to concern. “Ms. Winters, I need to be very clear about the risks—” “I understand the risks. Alexander will bond with her.” “Emily—” Nick starts. “No.” I cut him off. “This is my decision. She’s my daughter and I’m choosing what’s best for her.” “What’s best for her is the bond with the highest success rate,” Nick’s voice is strained. “Which is mine.” “What’s best for her is stability,” I counter. “Alexander has been in our lives for a year. You just found out she exists twenty minutes ago. She doesn’t know you. She doesn’t trust you.” “She doesn’t have to trust me for the bond to work.” “But she has to live with the consequences of it.” I meet his eyes. “Daily contact for weeks, maybe months. Living under the same roof as you. Being connected to you for the rest of her life. I won’t do that to her.” “You mean you won’t do that to yourself,” Nick says quietly. The words hit too close to home but I refuse to flinch. “Dr. Harrison, please schedule the bonding ceremony with Alexander for first thing tomorrow morning,” I say, my voice final. Dr. Harrison looks between us, clearly uncomfortable. “I’ll make the arrangements. But I want it on record that I strongly advised the biological bond.” “Noted,” I say. She leaves. The silence in the hallway is suffocating. I can feel Nick’s eyes on me but I refuse to look at him. If I look at him, I might waver. And I can’t afford to waver. “If his bond fails—” Nick starts. “It won’t.” “But if it does, Emily, please—” His voice cracks slightly and despite myself, I look at him. He looks wrecked. His hair is disheveled from running his hands through it, his tuxedo is still stained with Mia’s blood, and there’s something raw in his eyes that I haven’t seen since that night in the cabin six years ago. “I know I don’t deserve anything from you,” he says quietly. “I know I destroyed us. I know I should have believed you, should have listened, should have trusted you. And I’ve spent six years regretting it. Six years wishing I could take it back.” My chest tightens. I don’t want to hear this. Don’t want to feel the way his words are pulling at something inside me that I thought I’d buried. “I can’t change what I did,” Nick continues, and his voice is rough with emotion. “But I can be here now. I can try to make it right. I want to be her father, Emily. I want to know her. I want to be there for her the way I should have been from the beginning.” I can’t trust you,” I whisper, and the admission costs me more than I want it to. “I can’t trust that you won’t leave. That you won’t decide she’s too difficult or too complicated or not worth the effort. That you won’t break her heart the way you broke mine.” “I won’t—” “You don’t know that.” My voice gets stronger. “You can’t promise me that. You thought you loved me six years ago and look how that turned out.” He flinches like I slapped him. “That was different. I thought you betrayed me—” “And you didn’t give me five minutes to explain. You saw what you wanted to see and you destroyed me without a second thought.” I wrap my arms around myself. “What happens when Mia does something you don’t understand? When she makes a mistake? Will you give her a chance to explain or will you just… turn off?” “I wouldn’t, Emily. Not giving you a chance is the biggest mistake I made in my life and everyday, I wished I could take it back.” The mate bond pulls hard at his words, and I have to physically force myself not to step toward him. “You don’t know anything about being her father,” I say, but my voice wavers. “Then let me learn.” He takes a careful step closer. “Let me be there. Let me prove to you that I can do this, that I want to do this. She’s my daughter and I just found out she exists and she’s dying and I can save her. Please don’t take that away from me. I want to be there for her the way I am for my son.” Everything stops. “Your… what?” “My son. Mason. He’s five.” The math hits me like a physical blow. Five years old. Jessica was pregnant within months of destroying me. “You have a son,” I say flatly. “Yes. And I’m a good father to him—I’m there for every school event, every bedtime. I could be that for Mia too.” The words twist something in my chest. “You’ve had five years with him,” I say. “Mia’s six and you just found out she exists.” “Because you didn’t tell me—” “Because you didn’t give me a chance!” My voice rises. “You married Jessica, had a baby with her, built a whole life. And now you want to play father to Mia the way you do with your son?” “I want to try—” “Mason has had you his whole life. Mia has had nothing. That’s not my fault, Nick. That’s yours.” His jaw tightens. “I know I missed six years. But I can be here now—” “Being a good father to one child doesn’t automatically make you a good father to another. You don’t know Mia. She doesn’t know you.” “Then let me change that—” “No.” The word comes out firm. “Go home to your son. Be the father to him that you can’t be to Mia.” ““Emily, I was wrong—” “Yes. You were.” I force myself to look him in the eye. “And I can’t risk you being wrong again. Not with her. Not with my daughter.” “Our daughter,” he says quietly. “No.” The word comes out firm. “Mine. I’m the one who’s been there. I’m the one who gets to decide.” “And you’re deciding to use a bond that’s twenty-four percent more likely to fail?” His voice rises slightly. “You’re willing to risk her life to keep me away from her?” “I’m willing to risk a slightly lower success rate to protect her from someone who’s already proven he can’t be trusted.” The words hang between us, brutal and final. Nick stares at me for a long moment and I watch something shift in his expression. The desperation fades, replaced by something that looks almost like resignation. “At least let me know if she’s okay,” he says finally, his voice flat. “After the ceremony. Just… just tell me she made it through.” I should say no. Should cut him off completely. But the look on his face, the genuine fear for Mia, the defeated slump of his shoulders, makes me hesitate. “Fine,” I hear myself say. “One text. After the ceremony. To let you know she’s stable.” “Thank you.” The relief in his voice is palpable. “And Emily… I meant what I said. About regretting everything. About wishing I could go back and—” “Don’t.” I can’t hear this right now. Can’t process it. “Just… go home, Nick.” He hesitates for one more second, like he’s going to say something else. Then he turns and walks toward the elevator. I watch him go and something in my chest aches. The mate bond is screaming at me that I just made a mistake. That I should call him back. That Mia deserves her biological father. But I can’t risk it. Can’t risk him breaking her heart. Can’t risk letting him close enough to destroy us again. The elevator doors close and he’s gone. Alexander appears beside me, his hand warm on my shoulder. “You okay?” “No,” I admit, my voice shakier than I want it to be. “But I will be once Mia is safe.” “I’ll save her,” he says quietly. “I promise.” I lean into him for just a second, letting myself take comfort from his steady presence. He’s good and kind and here. Everything Nick wasn’t. Everything Nick can never be for me again. Tomorrow, Alexander will bond with Mia. Tomorrow, she’ll be safe. And whatever I’m feeling right now, this ache in my chest, this pull toward Nick, this tiny voice saying I just made a mistake, I’ll bury it. And Nick can go home to the child he actually raised. The one that didn’t include us.SAGECole's blood has dried into the lines of my palms. It's under my fingernails now, dark and stubborn, and I've stopped trying to wipe it off because there's nothing clean left to wipe it on. Forty minutes I've been sitting on this road with his head in my lap, watching his wolf work beneath the surface of his skin. The gash on his forehead has closed to a pink seam and the swelling around his eye is going down, but he hasn't opened his eyes, and his chest keeps catching mid-breath in a way that stops mine every single time.I should have screamed when the car hit. When the metal crumpled and the glass broke and his head snapped forward into the steering wheel, some sound should have come out of me, but Derek's hand was over my mouth before it could, and now the scream lives behind my ribs, building pressure with nowhere to go.A few feet away, Mason is curled against Nick's side. Nick's wolf hasn't moved since Derek and I dragged him out of the trees. His silver fur is matted dark
EMILYThe ceiling is white and the room is cold and my wrists are burning.I blink until the fluorescent strip above me stops swimming. It hums, a thin whine I can feel in my molars. The air stings the back of my throat, antiseptic layered over something chemical that makes each breath feel like swallowing a coin.I try to sit. Leather catches both wrists. My ankles are free but my legs don't feel like mine. The metal bed is pulling heat straight out of my spine and the shaking starts in my shoulders and runs down through my ribs before my brain catches up to where I am and why and who put me here."Mia." My voice sounds like I swallowed gravel. "Where is Mia?""She's here."Alex. Behind me. I wrench my head sideways and the room tilts but I find him in the corner, legs crossed, tablet in his lap. Showered. Changed. Rested. Looking at him is like finding a photograph of someone you buried and realizing the person standing in front of you has the same face but nothing behind it."She's
EMILYThe impact is a sound before it's a feeling. Metal giving way, a deep wet crunch, and then my body is airborne, the seatbelt locking across my chest as the car spins. Glass explodes inward. I don't think. I just grab. My arms find Mia and Mason and I curl around them like a shell closing, my back taking the spray, my head cracking against the window frame hard enough that stars bloom behind my eyes.We slide. We stop.The engine hisses. Steam vents from under the crumpled hood. My ears ring so loud I can't hear my own breathing, but I can feel it, ragged and shallow, catching on something sharp in my ribs.Under my arms, Mia trembles. A full-body shake I can feel through my chest. Mason is rigid, his small fingers clamped onto my wrist."Mama." Mia's voice is a wet whisper. "Mama, there's glass in your hair.""Stay down. Both of you. Don't move."I lift my head. The world tilts. Cole is slumped against the steering wheel, blood running from his hairline down the side of his face
NICKThe phone screen glows between us, casting harsh light over our faces. Alex's words sit there in the dark, smug and invasive. He knew about the moonlight. He knew about the third date, intimate details Emily shared with him years ago when he was someone she trusted. He's been hoarding those memories like currency, waiting to spend them the moment they would hurt her the most.Emily is sitting up in bed with the white sheets pooled around her waist. Her hand is still outstretched, frozen in the moment she handed me the phone. She keeps glancing toward the window where the moonlight falls across the pillow, the same moonlight Alex referenced in his message. Her chest is rising and falling too fast."He knows about the cabin," she whispers. "He knows things I only told him when I thought he was the one."I swing my legs off the bed and grab my jeans. "He knows what you told him, Em. That's a memory. It doesn't mean he's actually here.""He knew about the bedroom window." Her eyes ar
I should go to my room. Close the door, open the laptop, work.I walk to the kitchen.He's leaning against the counter with a glass of water, sleeves rolled up, forearms still damp from Mason's bath negotiation. He doesn't look up."Kids are down," I say from the doorway."Good.""Mason called lukewarm a non-committal temperature.""He's not wrong."I open the fridge, grab a water, close the fridge, and lean against the opposite counter. Maximum distance. Six feet."You can take the first shift," I say. "I'll sleep and relieve you at two.""I'm not doing shifts. I'm staying up.""All night?""Yes.""That's unnecessary.""It's protocol.""Protocol." I take a sip. "Your favourite word. Right behind drop it and goodnight."He looks up for the first time since dinner. His dark eyes find mine across the kitchen and something in my ribs tightens."Go to bed, Sage.""There it is. Three words, right on schedule.""It's not a dismissal. It's practical. One of us should sleep.""Then YOU sleep.
The first crisis happens fourteen minutes after Nick and Emily leave.Mia wants mac and cheese. Mason wants pasta with butter. I'm standing in the kitchen of the Blackwood estate holding a box of macaroni in one hand and a box of penne in the other while two children stare at me from the kitchen table like opposing counsel."They're both pasta," I say."Mac and cheese has CHEESE," Mia says."I can put cheese on the penne.""That's not mac and cheese. That's pasta pretending."Mason sits with his hands folded on the table. "I just want butter. Butter is easy.""I'M not being hard," Mia says. "I'm being SPECIFIC."Cole walks through the kitchen on his way to check windows, sees me holding two boxes and two children at war."Make both," he says without stopping."I'm not making two pots for two kids."He's already gone. His footsteps fade down the hallway and I stare at the empty doorway and add it to the list of things I want to throw at his head.I make both.Mia eats her mac and chees
MASONThe car stops and Jessica pulls me out and we’re somewhere with little planes.Not the big airport where Dad took me once to watch planes land. A small place with a fence and a gate and a man who waves Jessica through without checking anything. It’s dark and the lights on the ground are blue
EMILYNick walks into my studio carrying a backpack and a boy who isn't crying anymore but hasn't started talking yet either. Mason rides on his hip with his face pressed into his father's neck, arms locked around his shoulders. He's holding himself still. Dry-eyed. Breath shallow and even against
NICKCole is sitting across from me looking like a man who already knows how this ends.“Tell me again,” I say.“I set up the resort. Donated the trip through Reed Consulting. Structured it through the school competition.”“Without telling me.”“You wanted time with her outside the apartment. You s
NICKMason is finally asleep.It took forty minutes. He cried for the first twenty not loud, not the thrashing kind, just the kind that a five-year-old does when he’s too tired to sob but too upset to stop. He asked me three times if Mia was really his sister. I said yes three times. On the third o







