Dad: Sophia’s Perspective

I wake to urgent voices in the corridor, the heavy tread of boots against stone pulling me from fitful sleep. My body aches in unfamiliar places, a constant reminder of what happened hours ago in this bed. Zane's scent surrounds me, on the sheets, on my skin, inside me, marking me as claimed in ways that go beyond the bite on my neck. I push myself up on my elbows, wincing at the soreness between my thighs, and strain to hear the whispered conversation outside the door.

"—at the northern checkpoint," Vance's voice carries through the wood. "Says he's her father."

My heart stops. My father? 

'He's alive?' Nyx perks up in my mind, suddenly alert. 'Our pack-father is alive?'

The door opens, Zane's massive form silhouetted against the hallway light. His expression is unreadable as his eyes find mine in the darkness.

"Your father has been caught trying to cross our border," he says without preamble, already pulling on clothes. "Apparently, the Council exiled him instead of killing him."

I scramble to sit up, ignoring the protest of sore muscles. "My father? He's alive? I need to see him."

"You need to stay right here," Zane counters, his tone brooking no argument as he buttons his shirt. "I'll handle this."

'No!' Nyx snarls in my head. 'Pack-father needs us!'

"Zane, please," I try, hating the pleading note in my voice but unable to suppress it. "He's my father."

"And you're my mate," he replies, as if that settles everything. "This could be a trap. Stay here. I'll bring him to you if he checks out."

He crosses to the bed, leans down to press a possessive kiss to my forehead. "Don't make me lock you in."

The threat hangs in the air between us, but when he leaves with Vance, he doesn't turn the key. His footsteps fade down the hallway, and I count to thirty before throwing back the covers.

'We're going,' I tell Nyx, not bothering to frame it as a question.

'Obviously,' she replies with satisfaction. 'Pack-father needs us. Zane can deal with his feelings about it later.'

I grab the first clothing I can find, a simple dress from the wardrobe, and pull it on without undergarments. No time for that. Every second matters if I want to reach my father before Zane does something stupid like deny him entry or, worse, turn him away entirely.

The pack house is eerily quiet as I slip through corridors, my bare feet silent against cold stone. A few night guards glance my way but don't stop me, either they don't recognise me in the dim light or they assume Zane's new mate has permission to wander. Either way, their mistake is my gain.

Outside, the night air hits my lungs like a shock of cold water. The moon hangs heavy and full overhead, calling to my wolf. I sprint across the manicured grounds toward the tree line, already feeling the familiar itch beneath my skin as Nyx pushes forward.

'Faster if I run,' she urges, and I don't fight the shift.

My bones crack and reform, the momentary pain lost in the urgency of our mission. Soon I'm racing through the forest on four paws, Nyx's superior night vision guiding us down the sloping terrain toward the northern border. My father's scent is faint but unmistakable, pine, leather, and something uniquely him that I'd know anywhere. Nyx follows it like a beacon.

'He's hurt,' she growls as we draw closer. 'I smell blood.'

I push harder, our paws barely touching the ground as we fly through the darkness. The border checkpoint appears ahead, a small outpost manned by four guards, their forms tense as they surround a kneeling figure.

My father. Even in the moonlight, I recognise him instantly. His powerful frame is thinner than I remember, his brown hair matted with dirt and leaves. One of the guards, Kier, I realise, holds his arms behind his back while another keeps a blade at his throat. The sight ignites fury in me that rivals anything I've ever felt.

I skid to a stop just outside the clearing, shifting back to human form with barely a thought. The guards notice me immediately, their postures stiffening in recognition.

"Release him!" I command, striding forward with more confidence than I feel.

"We can't…” one starts, but I cut him off.

"That's my father," I snarl, Nyx's rage lending an edge to my voice that makes the wolves take a step back. "Take your hands off him right now."

Kier's grip on my father's arms tightens. "We have orders to hold all trespassers until Alpha Thorne…"

Something in me snaps. Nyx surges forward in my mind, pushing past barriers that shouldn't exist, forcing a connection that shouldn't be possible. 'RELEASE HIM!' she growls directly into Kier's consciousness, the command carrying all the weight of my need and her protective fury.

The effect is instant. Kier's hands drop from my father's arms as if burned, his eyes widening in shock. My father staggers to his feet, his shocked gaze finding mine.

"Sophia?" His voice breaks on my name.

I run to him, throwing my arms around his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. He's alive. Somehow, impossibly, my father is alive.

"You're here," I sob against his shoulder, feeling his arms close around me with crushing strength. "You're alive."

"My little wolf," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I found you."

I pull back to examine his face, noticing the fresh cuts along his cheekbone, the bruise darkening his jaw. The guards weren't gentle with him.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Zane's voice cuts through our reunion like ice. I feel him before I turn, his presence like a physical weight pressing down on me through our new bond. Vance stands at his shoulder, expression carefully neutral despite the obvious breach of protocol unfolding before them.

"I told you to stay put, Sophia," Zane says, his voice deceptively calm while fury blazes through our bond.

I shrug, not releasing my grip on my father. "And I chose not to listen."

'You will learn to obey me, especially in public,' his voice fills my head, the mental command vibrating with alpha authority.

I ignore him completely, turning back to my father. His eyes fix on the claiming mark visible on my neck, grief and resignation washing over his features.

"Where's mum?" I ask, though part of me already knows the answer from the hollowness in his eyes. "Did she make it out too?"

He shakes his head, tears gathering in eyes that look so much older than when I last saw him. "She sacrificed herself so I could find you, pup."

The world collapses around me. My knees buckle, and only my father's strong arms keep me upright as I press my face against his chest, raw sobs tearing from my throat. My mother. My beautiful, brave, gentle mother who taught me to heal with my hands and fight with my mind, gone. Forever.