Chapter 3

[KAELEN]

I have never seen Elara move that fast.

One second she's sitting across from me with that ice queen attitude, the next she's spinning out of her chair so quickly it nearly tips over. Her face goes white. Her whole body locks up like every muscle just remembered how to be afraid at the same time.

I follow her gaze to the doorway.

And my entire world stops.

There is a child standing in my council room. A little boy, maybe four years old, breathing hard like he's been running. Dark hair sticking up in every direction, crayon stains on his shirt, cheeks flushed red. He's clutching an orange cat against his chest with both arms and the cat looks absolutely murderous, ears flat, tail puffed up, eyes promising violence.

"Mama, Mr. Whiskers got out of his box and he run out of the car when the man opened the door and I had to chase him all the way inside and the big guys at the door tried to stop me but I was too fast!"

He said all that in one single breath, chest heaving and Proud of himself like he just accomplished something heroic.

Nobody in the room moves. Nobody breathes.

Because I can smell him.

This boy does not smell like a human child. He does not smell like a wolf pup. He smells like smoke and fire. My wolf is recoiling and lunging forward at the same time, confused by a scent that belongs in history books not in my doorway.

Every wolf at this table can smell it too. Gerald has gone the color of paper, extremely pale. Lady Voss has both hands pressed over her mouth. My new Beta has taken a step back from the door like the child might explode.

And Dorian is sitting perfectly still with his hands folded and the faintest smile on his lips.

But my brain can only hold one thought right now and it's screaming so loud everything else is static.

That boy has my face.

Like someone took my features and shrunk them down and stuck them on a four year old body. Even the way he's standing with his weight on one hip and his chin tilted up, that's mine.

But his eyes are wrong. Not golden like mine, not brown like Elara's used to be or purple like my wolf’s. They're the color of molten lava. Bright burning orange with red flecks swirling in them like flames.

No wolf has eyes like that. Not now, not ever.

"Elara." My voice comes out hoarse and broken. "Who is that."

She's already moving, putting herself between me and the boy like a wall. Her eyes meet mine and they're not cold anymore. They're burning with something raw and protective. A mother who will rip your throat out if you take one wrong step.

"Leo come behind Mama," she says without looking away from me.

"But Mama the cat…"

"NOW Leo."

He flinches and shuffles behind her legs, confused about why everyone is acting strange.

"Is he mine," I say. Not a question. A demand.

"He's MINE. That's the only answer you're getting."

The council is whispering now. I catch fragments from Gerald. The human wife. That smell. The old laws.

The old laws. Words like eradication and no mercy carved into stone a thousand years ago. Laws about creatures that breathe fire.

"Everyone out," I say quietly.

Nobody moves fast enough.

"OUT. NOW."

Chairs crash. Papers scatter. Bodies scramble for the exit. Gerald trips over his robe. Lady Voss practically sprints and that woman hasn't sprinted in thirty years.

Dorian stands calmly, buttons his jacket, walks toward the door. He pauses beside Leo and looks down at the boy with an expression I can't read. Something that lasts half a second too long before his easy smile returns.

"I'll be right outside Alpha." He nods at Elara. "Good to see you. You look wonderful."

"I wish I could say the same," she says flatly.

He laughs and walks out. He's amused by her coldness. Something about that bothers me but I can't figure out why yet.

Then it's just us. Me and her and the boy and the cat.

Leo peeks out from behind Elara's legs. He's not scared of me which is strange because most people are. He's looking at me like I'm a new animal at the zoo.

"Mama," he says tugging her jacket, "why does that man smell like me?"

Something cracks open in my chest. A place I've spent five years sealing shut. Because he can smell the blood connection. At four years old his instincts already know who I am.

"Baby, grown ups are talking. Be quiet for a minute."

"But Mama…"

"Leo. Please."

He goes quiet. Pouts. Buries his face in the cat's fur.

"He's mine isn't he." My voice is barely holding. "Four years old. My face. My hair. He's MINE."

"He's mine," she repeats quieter. The anger is there but underneath it I hear exhaustion. Four years of carrying this alone.

"How could you not tell me."

"Are you SERIOUS?" The fire comes roaring back. "You threw me out Kaelen. Right here at this table. Told me I was nothing. And I was supposed to call you up and say hey by the way you're a daddy?"

"YES."

"So you could what? Take him? Raise him where everyone treated me like dirt? Let Lady Voss teach him to be ashamed of his human mother?"

Every word lands like a fist. I deserve all of them.

Before I can respond the cat hisses. Loud, sharp, aggressive.

Leo flinches and squeezes the cat too tight.

And a tiny burst of flame shoots from his mouth.

Small and fast, barely a spark, but it hits the door handle dead on. The metal glows red and melts in slow motion, it drips onto the stone floor like candle wax.

Dead silence.

Leo blinks. Looks at the melted handle, looks at the puddle of metal then looks up at his mother.

"Oops," he says in a tiny voice.

Elara grabs him fast, pulling him behind her like a shield. She's breathing hard, eyes locked on mine, bracing for horror and disgust.

Because she knows what I know.

Wolves don't breathe fire. In a thousand years not one wolf has ever produced a flame. There is only one species in the supernatural world that does. The same species my ancestors hunted to extinction. The same species every wolf alive is sworn to destroy on sight if it ever resurfaces.

I look at the melted handle, then at the scorch mark on the wall.

Then at my son.

Then at Elara. The wife a dumped who now runs a company called EMBER Industries.

How did I not see it?

"What," I say slowly, "the hell was that."

Her chin lifts and her eyes harden.

"We're leaving."

She scoops Leo onto her hip, cat and all, and turns toward the broken door. And every instinct in my body erupts at once.

She cannot walk out that door.

Not because I want to control her. Because twelve council members just saw what happened and by morning every Alpha in the territory will know. A child breathed fire in the Shadow-Claw council room. They won't come with questions. They'll come with swords.

"Elara wait."

She doesn't stop.

She doesn't even slow down.