The Alpha's Hidden Heir

The forest presses in on me like a cage of shadows. My lungs burn as I run, clutching the small, warm hand of the boy at my side. His legs are too short to keep pace with mine, but Kaelion doesn’t complain—he never does. His little chest heaves, but his storm-gray eyes, mirrors of my own, flash with stubborn light.

“Faster, Mama,” he pants.

I lift him into my arms before he stumbles, hugging him close against my chest as my wolf thrums beneath my skin. The rogues are still behind us; I can hear the crunch of their paws on leaves, smell their foul, unwashed stench. The sound makes my wolf snarl, but I grit my teeth. Shifting would risk him falling, risk me losing him in the chaos.

Not him. Never him.

I’ve already lost too much.

Branches whip at my face. My heart hammers in rhythm with Kaelion’s soft gasps. He’s only four years old, yet I’ve dragged him across borders, hidden him in human towns, forced him into silence when danger passed. He doesn’t deserve this life. He deserves safety. A home. A pack that would protect him, not hunt him.

But packs don’t forgive traitors. And to Shadowfang, I am worse than dead.

A flash of memory cuts through me as sharp as claws: Kaelen’s icy blue eyes the night he cast me out.

“You disgust me, Aria. A traitor’s blood is poison. You are no mate of mine.”

His hand had ripped the bond from my soul that night. I can still feel the tearing sensation, like my chest had been split open, my wolf howling in agony. And all the while, Kaelen’s expression had been carved from stone. The Alpha I loved—the mate I would have died for—looked at me like I was dirt beneath his boots.

The sting of tears blurs my vision, but I keep running. That was years ago. I survived the rejection. I survived the exile. But I hadn’t been alone.

Three months after leaving Shadowfang, I had discovered I carried his child.

My Kaelion.

The rogues’ howls pierce the air, closer now. I push harder, my legs screaming. At the riverbank, I skid to a halt, chest heaving. The moonlight glitters off the water, cold and silver. Too wide to cross safely with a child.

Trapped.

Kaelion tucks his face into my neck, his small body trembling. I whisper fiercely against his hair, “I won’t let them touch you.”

Something stirs inside me. My wolf, rising, furious, desperate. And Kaelion—he lifts his head, his little hand pressing against my collarbone. His stormy eyes glow faintly, not with wolf light but something older, deeper.

The rogues crash into the clearing. Snarls, teeth bared. My wolf surges, preparing for a last stand. Then the air shifts.

Kaelion exhales, and the river surges as if answering him. A wall of water rises, slamming into the rogues and sweeping them downstream with howls of shock.

I freeze, clutching him tight. My son leans against me, exhausted, his glow fading.

Not wolf magic. Something else. Something dangerous.

I swallow hard, heart pounding. We can’t keep running. He’s too powerful, too noticeable. It’s only a matter of time before someone stronger than rogues comes hunting.

Which means only one thing.

We have to go back. Back to Shadowfang. Back to him.

---

The border town reeks of smoke and ale, but it offers shelter for the night. I tuck Kaelion into the narrow bed of a rented room, brushing damp hair from his forehead. He sleeps like he fought a war, his little fists curled tight.

I sit at the window, watching the moon climb higher. My chest aches with the weight of the decision pressing down on me. For four years, I’ve kept him hidden. I’ve told myself I don’t care that his father doesn’t know him, that Kaelen doesn’t deserve him. But tonight proved what I’ve always feared: I can’t protect him alone anymore.

And Kaelen—he might hate me. He might still believe I betrayed him. But Shadowfang is powerful, and the boy is his heir. If Kaelen realizes the truth, he won’t let anyone take Kaelion.

My hands tremble in my lap. I don’t know if that thought terrifies me more… or gives me the faintest, most dangerous flicker of hope.

---

The next morning, Kaelion chatters as we walk the dusty streets. “Mama, when we get to the pack, will there be pups to play with? Do they have training fields? Will they like me?”

His questions twist a knife in my gut. I force a smile. “You’ll see soon enough, my little wolf.”

But the word wolf catches in my throat. Because he’s not only wolf. I don’t know what he is. And I’m terrified Kaelen—or worse, the Elders—will try to control him once they find out.

By the time we reach Shadowfang’s border, my chest is so tight I can barely breathe. The land is the same as I remember: towering pines, the air sharp with the scent of pack territory. Memories slam into me with every step—of laughter, of belonging, of Kaelen’s lips on mine before it all shattered.

Kaelion skips ahead, clutching a wildflower he picked along the way. His hair shines black in the sunlight. He’s so much like his father it hurts to look at him.

We follow the road into the heart of the territory, where preparations for the annual Harvest Moon Festival are underway. Wolves bustle through the square, stringing lanterns, carrying baskets of food. Laughter echoes, pups dart between stalls.

For a moment, Kaelion’s eyes light with wonder. He bolts from my side, darting into the crowd.

“Kaelion!” I shout, panic slicing through me. My wolf claws to the surface, but I don’t dare shift here, not in front of all these wolves. I shove through bodies, heart hammering.

And then I see him.

Kaelion has barreled straight into a tall, broad figure standing at the edge of the square. Strong arms catch him before he falls.

The man bends, steadying the boy. Midnight-black hair catches the sunlight, a jaw hard as carved stone, and those eyes—icy blue, piercing, impossible to forget.

Alpha Kaelen Draven.

The breath leaves my body like a blow.

Kaelion tilts his head back to stare at him, wide-eyed. “You look just like me,” he says with innocent wonder.

Time freezes. Kaelen’s gaze flicks from the boy’s storm-gray eyes to my face as I break through the crowd. His jaw tightens, his entire frame going rigid.

“Aria,” he growls, voice low and dangerous.

The square seems to fall silent. Wolves glance our way, sensing the tension.

My son presses closer to him, small fingers clinging to the Alpha’s arm. And Kaelen doesn’t push him away. He just stares at me, betrayal and fury and something darker blazing in his eyes.

My worst nightmare has just begun.