Chapter 7

“Maxton, you possibly can’t expect me to leave you alone. You’re breaking inside, and you’re my son. Let me be there for you.”

Alpha Mason’s voice carried a weight Maxton had never heard before, desperation. The man who ruled empires with an iron hand suddenly sounded like a father afraid to lose his child.

But Maxton only felt the air closing in, suffocating. He stepped back, putting space between them.

“All my life, I’ve been lied to,” Maxton hissed. His voice cracked, his fists clenched. “From dreaming of being chased by a shadow dog, to finding out I’m part animal that runs on all fours. And now I’m the heir to a house of furs, expected to embrace this curse, or else I die.”

His eyes burned with grief as he jabbed a finger toward his father.

“My mom died because of me. Because of you.”

Mason flinched, but he didn’t look away.

“My life is unraveling. Out of control. I feel like I’m going crazy.” Maxton’s voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. “I want to escape this nightmare. Escape this choking room. I just… want to disappear.”

Silence hung heavy.

Mason’s throat tightened. He moved closer, laying a strong but trembling hand on his son’s shoulder. For the first time, he didn’t speak as Alpha Mason, but as a father.

“Then disappear.”

Amaretti’s sharp gasp broke the moment. “My lord—”

But Mason’s eyes never left Maxton’s. “Go. Anywhere you want. Be who you need to be. Prepare yourself. Live the way you want. And when you’re ready… come back to me.”

The sincerity in his gaze melted something in Maxton’s chest. He saw no legend, no alpha, no tyrant, only a man aching to love his son.

“Six months,” Maxton said, voice trembling but firm. “Give me six months, and I’ll come back. To you. To whatever it is waiting for me. I will return”

“This is madness,” Amaretti snapped, stepping forward. Her fiery eyes cut between the two men. “Both of you! The hunters won’t spare you, Maxton. You’re barely in control of your wolf, and six months without protection is a death sentence. You don’t know how to fight, you’re unstable—your wolf will eat you alive. You’ll be prey.”

Mason’s jaw clenched. “Then we bind his wolf.”

The words sound like thunder.

Amaretti froze, her face draining of color. “No. My lord, even when you were nearly Alpha, binding almost killed you. Maxton is young—his body won’t withstand it.”

“Then we stop if he falters,” Mason said flatly.

Her voice shook. “He could die.”

Mason’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous pride. “He won’t. He’s my son. He won’t die.”

The pride in his father’s face stirred something Maxton hadn’t felt in days since his mother's death. Belief. If this man, a stranger yet blood of his blood, believed he would survive, then maybe… maybe he could.

“Let’s do it,” Maxton said quietly.

Amaretti’s lips parted in horror. “Oh my gods…”

He turned to her, his gaze softer now. “Ma’am… I promise, I’ll be fine. Whatever this ritual does, I’ll endure. If it keeps me alive long enough to escape the hunters’ lair, then it’s worth it.”

Amaretti gripped his hands tightly, her voice breaking. “You have no idea what binding does. It strips you down to bone and soul. I’ve never had reason to protect anyone, but you…” Her voice faltered, tears brimming. “You made me want to be a mother. To keep you safe.”

Maxton swallowed hard. “But I can’t accept your care if I stay caged. I need to leave.”

The woman shook her head, broken. But she saw both father and son were resolute. With a heavy heart, she summoned the clan’s sage.

Dixton, Mason’s younger brother, returned from overseeing a business deal that afternoon. The estate was alive with whispers, servants moving quickly, preparations happening everywhere. Confusion knitted his brow as he strode through the garden.

Then he saw her. His wife. Red-haired, beautiful, moving gracefully as she carried a tray.

“Joanne,” he called.

She turned, and her smile faltered. “My lord.” She bowed, voice dipped in respect that tasted like mockery.

“What’s going on? Where’s my brother?”

Joanne’s lips curled with disdain. “Rumor says Alpha Mason is coming home with his long-lost son.”

Dixton’s eyes darkened. “His son? That’s impossible. I took care of that chapter.”

“That’s what I’d like you to explain, husband. Why do I have to hear about a bastard’s homecoming?”

He grabbed her arm and dragged her into the shadows. “Lower your voice.”

But Joanne yanked her hand free, her eyes blazing. “I thought you wanted to be the next Alpha. I thought you were capable.”

“I do want it,” Dixton snarled. “And I won’t fail again. If that boy returns, I’ll make sure he doesn’t live long enough to wear the crown. I swear it.”

Her expression softened into a sly smile. She stepped close, whispering against his ear. “It’s not just about you anymore. It’s us. Fail again, and we leave you. Our child deserves better.” She guided his hand to her slightly rounded belly.

Emotion clouded Dixton’s reason, his wife’s promise of legacy igniting his hunger. He kissed her fiercely, then left in a storm of rage.

Joanne watched him go, her hand stroking her stomach with a serpent’s smile. “As long as your father listens to me, child, you will inherit everything. I promise you.”

That evening, the sage arrived. Her eyes, clouded but sharp as steel, landed on Maxton the moment she entered. She grasped his hand, her voice trembling with reverence.

“He looks just like your father, my lord,” she whispered to Mason. “And he carries his power.”

Mason’s chest swelled with pride. Now it all made sense, the bursts of power, the uncontrolled visions. His son carried the bloodline unaligned with his wolf, just as his father once had.

“I suppose you know why you are here,” Mason said.

The sage nodded. “Yes. But beware, binding a free wolf is dangerous. If the boy feels welcomed in the spirit realm, he may never return. He may choose to stay with his wolf until his body withers in this world.”

Amaretti’s eyes widened. “No. Please. Don’t do this.” She grabbed Maxton’s arm, shaking her head desperately. “Maxton, listen to me. I’ll give you anything you want. Be your mother. Protect you. Just don’t risk this.”

“I’ll be fine,” Maxton whispered.

Mason moved behind her and, with a swift strike to her acupoint, caught her as she slumped unconscious. He handed her gently to a servant. “Take her to her room.”

Then he turned back, placing a steady hand on Maxton’s shoulder. His voice was low, fierce, unwavering. Reassuring. “I’ll be here when you return, son.”

Maxton nodded. His chest rose as the sage chanted, her voice like ancient thunder. Shadows gathered, curling into his vision. His body went slack as the spell dragged him inward,

into the place where he and the wolf would finally meet.

Into the heart of the beast.

His own very beast.