CHAPTER 12

I returned from work with my body aching and my mind spinning. Alpha Conan’s visit had left me raw and exposed. His words still echoed in my chest like a quiet storm. *I never loved her.*

For a moment, I had seen something behind his eyes. A flicker of understanding. Not pity, no. Something colder. Something sharper. Maybe disappointment.

The house was quiet when I stepped in. Jonathan had left a note on the kitchen counter. "Put Jayden to bed. Made his favorite pasta. See you in the morning."

He was sleeping in the guest room again or pretending to.

Jayden was already curled up on the couch, a blanket half-tucked under his chin. I bent down and kissed his forehead. He stirred slightly, murmuring something I couldn't catch.

I sat on the floor beside him and watched the TV screen flicker with colors. Some cartoon about animals learning to share. I didn’t pay much attention, my mind was still in that office, still standing across from the Alpha, still hearing the weight of his words.

"You’re being watched. Don’t trust your walls."

That wasn’t Conan, though. That was something else. A thought? A fear?

I shook it off and carried Jayden upstairs, placing him gently in bed. I lingered for a moment, watching his small chest rise and fall. My boy. My only anchor.

Back downstairs, I opened my laptop to try and write my reports. But my hands wouldn’t cooperate. My mind had other plans. I stared at the screen until my eyes burned.

It was just past midnight when the knock came.

Three soft taps, deliberate and measured.

I froze.

Another knock made me jump, and I stood, heart thudding against my ribs, and walked toward the door. My fingers hovered over the handle.

"Who is it?" I whispered.

No answer. But through the glass, I saw a figure cloaked in black, standing beneath the porch light. The hood was deep, but the stance was familiar.

I opened the door a crack. "Yes?"

The figure leaned in slightly. A woman's voice, quiet but firm: "It’s me. Nina."

I blinked. Nina? The Alpha’s old courier? I hadn’t seen her in years. Since the death of the first Luna.

I opened the door fully. She pulled back her hood, revealing her sharp green eyes and dark braids, silver starting to streak through them.

"You shouldn’t be here," I said, stepping aside anyway. She left after the Luna died, following a scandal. No one really knew what the scandal was about.  "What’s going on?"

She shook her head. "I won’t stay. Just listen."

She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small scroll wrapped in faded cloth. She pressed it into my palm.

"Don't open it now. Wait until you're alone. Completely alone."

"What is it?"

"It’s a warning. But not just for you. You need to decide who you’re going to be when things begin to fall apart."

I stared at her. "What do you mean fall apart? Is this about Luna Samira? Or Jonathan?"

Her face hardened. "This is about everything."

And then she turned and walked away. Her cloak melted into the shadows, and she vanished into the tree line like she had never been there.

I shut the door slowly, locking it. I checked the windows. Twice.

My hands trembled as I clutched the scroll. The cloth was old, stained with something I couldn’t name. But the weight of it was undeniable.

I slipped it into a hidden drawer in my closet, behind the winter coats I never wore. Then I sat on my bed and stared into the dark.

***

By dawn, I couldn't take it anymore.

The house was still. I stepped out into the backyard, barefoot, the grass cold and wet beneath my feet.

Birds chirped far off in the trees. A soft wind moved through the leaves.

I knelt by the old tree stump and opened the scroll.

The markings were rough, drawn in charcoal or ash. They weren’t in any language I recognized, but the shape of them twisted something deep in my gut. And then, on the last fold, a few words appeared. Written in old ink:

"Beware the silence in familiar voices. The dagger comes smiling."

I read it again.

"Beware the silence in familiar voices. The dagger comes smiling."

It didn’t make sense.

But I understood.

Someone close to me. Someone I trusted. Not Conan. Not Nina.

Jonathan.

Maybe even someone else I hadn’t considered. I folded the scroll and held it to my chest.

The house was dark when I returned, save for the flicker of a hallway light someone forgot to turn off. Silence hung thick in the air. I dropped my bag on the console table and toed off my heels, each step toward the kitchen echoing louder than I liked.

A post-it note sat on the counter, scribbled in Jonathan’s handwriting:

'Put Jayden to bed. Don’t wake him. Had a long day.'

I stared at it. Not a "Welcome back" or "How was work?" Just an instruction. I crumpled it slowly in my hand, walked to the trash, and tossed it.

Jayden’s door was cracked open. I stepped inside quietly. Moonlight filtered through the curtains and settled over his little body curled beneath the covers. His thumb was tucked beneath his chin, lashes casting shadows on soft cheeks. My baby.

I sat beside him, brushing his hair back gently.

His lips moved suddenly, breath catching.

"...don’t want two mommies," he mumbled. "I already have one..."

My hand froze. The ache that burst in my chest was immediate. I kissed his forehead and pulled the blanket over his shoulder.

"And she’s not going anywhere," I whispered, more to myself than him.

Back in the living room, I sat on the couch and rubbed my temples. My phone buzzed on the coffee table. I leaned forward, expecting a message from Conan, but it was an unknown number.

"You might want to move faster, mother."

I blinked. My body stiffened. My hand trembled slightly as I reread it.

No name. No context. Just a warning.

I blocked the number, though I knew it wouldn't matter. Whoever it was wanted me off balance.

That night, I tucked myself in on the couch, pushed aside my thoughts, and went to sleep.

Morning came too fast.

Jonathan was already in the kitchen when I came down. A ridiculous apron was tied over his button-down.

He glanced up with a smile that felt stapled to his face. "Hey. Slept okay?"

"Mm-hm," I lied, stepping past him to pour coffee.

"I made pancakes. Jayden's favorite."

"Great." I didn’t meet his eyes. My attitude towards him was a subconscious response, and as much as it hurt, there was nothing I could do.

Jayden came bounding in, hugging my waist tightly. Disgust pushed bile up into my throat.

"Mommy! Daddy said I could take syrup to school in my lunch."

I laughed softly, crouching to his level. "You planning on drinking it?"

He giggled, but his eyes didn’t sparkle.

Jonathan bent to kiss my cheek, still lingering. "I'll drop him off today. You rest. You look tired."

I gave a smile tight enough to crack glass. "You're so thoughtful."

When the door shut behind them, I finally let myself exhale.

I pulled the ring recorder from my jewelry box, checked the file system. The clip from before was still intact.

“I love you too, Samira.”

I played it once more. It stung no less.