Chapter 5

   “Let’s see… marrying you and leaving my mom, accepting his family’s business and abandoning a pregnant woman. I understand you trying to speak for your husband but—” Maxton’s voice hardened.

Amaretti cut in softly. “His wolf was bounded.”

Maxton blinked. What?

“Excuse me? What do you mean his wolf was bounded?”

Her voice was calm but heavy with sorrow. “His wolf was caged within him when his father learned he was searching for your mother. His wolf suffered for years. He couldn’t leave the clan. Your grandfather threatened to kill your mother if he kept looking for her. So he stopped—hoping one day, she would find him.”

Maxton stared at her, thinking she must be insane. Maybe she was speaking in metaphors. “Ohh… okay,” he muttered, unsure how else to reply.

She only nodded, motherly in her expression.

Then her gaze sharpened. “How did you know the details of your crime scene? I thought there were no witnesses.”

He hesitated, unsure if he should reveal his truth. But he did anyway. “I have this gif—I mean, curse. If I touch people, I see their memories. I feel their emotions. I know what they’re going through.”

He braced himself for disbelief. Instead, she smiled, nodding as if it made sense. She touched his hand, and a wave of satisfaction, happiness, peace coursed through him.

“She’s… happy?” he thought, unsettled.

“I understand now,” she whispered. “You have been in alignment with your wolf.”

Not the wolf talk again. He frowned. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean. Isn’t all this wolf talk figurative? Is there something I should know?”

Her emotions changed immediately. Worry deepened. The emotions flowing from her—fear, doubt, anxiety—only made him more restless. She suddenly stood, calling out:

“My lord! My lord!”

Mason entered quickly, eyes sharp. “What’s going on?”

“He doesn’t know.” Her helpless glance told him everything.

Maxton’s voice cracked with frustration. “Is there something I should know about?”

Mason quietly locked the door, drew the curtains, and faced his son. “Calm down, Maxton. Take a deep breath.”

Then the sound of cracking bones filled the room. Maxton’s eyes widened in horror. His father’s body bent, reshaped, grew. Fur sprouted. Within moments, standing before him was not a man, but a massive wolf.

Maxton stumbled back, speechless. “He… he… he—”

Amaretti smiled faintly. “Yes. A wolf. Your father is a werewolf. Alpha of the Crescent Wolf Clan. He rules all seven borderlands in Seattl…...”

Mason shifted back, standing naked in his human form. “That’s enough, Ama. The boy’s already terrified.” He wrapped a blanket around himself and approached his son.

“I am a werewolf,” Mason said firmly. “That makes you one too—a hybrid. Born of human and wolf.”

“So you mean… I’m a…” Maxton struggled to finish the sentence.

“Yes,” Mason said softly.

Maybe this was why his mother had told him to find his father.

Maxton stepped back, shaking.

“It’s a gradual process,” Mason assured him.

But Amaretti interrupted. “He saw who killed his mother.”

Mason froze. “What?”

“He can look into memories by touch. He feels emotions. He shares them too, I think.”

Mason’s brow furrowed. “But he hasn’t embraced his wolf yet. How is that possible?”

Maxton felt like he was in a movie. A bad one. But this...this was real. The most powerful man in Seattle was a wolf. And that made him one too. His twenty-three years of life suddenly felt like a lie.

“Can I see?” Mason’s voice broke through his shock. “Your mother’s killer. Can I look into your memory?”

Maxton blinked. “Come again?” is that even possible?

“Let me in. I need to see the man who murdered my mate. Please.”

Maxton hesitated, then nodded. “What do I have to do?”

“Nothing. Just stay calm. Don’t fight it. Let me in.”

For the first time, father and son held hands. A flood of emotion rushed through Maxton—grief, rage, loss. He saw his father’s memories, the torment of losing a mate, the ache of silence. At the same time, Mason saw his son’s memories: his childhood, his mother’s warmth, her last breath, her pleas for mercy. Then–the murderer’s face.

Mason ripped himself free, trembling, eyes glowing crimson. Fury burned through him. His chest heaved. His wolf clawed at the surface.

“My lord, control yourself!” Amaretti shouted, terrified.

Mason’s jaw clenched. He looked at his wife. “See that he is cared for. He stays until he’s ready.” His voice rumbled like thunder.

“What should we prepare for?” Amaretti whispered.

Mason’s eyes blazed. “War.”

He stormed out.

Meanwhile, Dryann returned from patrol, longing for a hot bath and the warmth of his lover. “Dan, I’m ho—”

But the moment he entered, dread choked him. The house was in shambles: bullet holes in the sofa, a shattered window. A wolf’s intrusion.

“No… no no no…” he whispered, panic clawing at his chest. “God, please no.”

He ran to the weapons room.

Dan lay there, torn apart—limbs ripped from his body, his heart carved out and placed neatly beside him.

Dryann collapsed, trembling. “Dan? Ahh… Dan?” His voice broke. “Dan?”

Then he saw the words scrawled across the wall in blood:

EVERYONE WILL GET WHAT COMES FOR THEM.

I CALL FOR BLOOD.