Chapter 4

Ethan.

“Uncle Ethan!”

I barely had time to brace myself before a small, curly-haired missile crashed into my legs. I let out a huff of laughter, crouching down to scoop my niece into my arms. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her giggles warm against my skin.

“There’s my girl,” I murmured, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Did you today, Emma? Did you drive your teachers crazy? Are you going to end up needing to explain something to Mom?”

She pulled back, nodding with a seriousness that only a four-year-old could muster. “I shared my crayons and didn’t push Danny off the slide, even though he was being super mean. I'm not going to tell mom that I did anything wrong. I did everything correct today. I even got a golden star. My teacher said that I was a good girl.”

“Good girl.” I smoothed a stray curl from her face. “That’s what Alphas do, right? Stay strong and fair. You don't push others, nor do we tease them. We stand strong by their side and we teach them how to be good. That is why we are stronger and more superior.”

“Yes, just like you. When I grow up, I'm going to be a hero and an alpha just like you. I'm going to be very strong and I'm going to be sure that everyone sees that.” Emma said, making me smile.

Emma beamed, pride lighting up her chubby cheeks. She was my brother’s daughter, but the bond between us was unshakable. With my brother constantly busy with pack duties, I had become Emma’s favorite, and only, uncle.

While I was the alpha of the park, I always made sure sometimes to take care of her. He had his other duties to be taken care of and I believe that it was a better option for him not to be the one to pick her up, especially with the wound that he has on his face. Children or humans would not understand why he has such a wound.

“Ready to go home?” I asked softly.

“Yes!” She wriggled in my arms, her little fingers gripping the collar of my jacket. “Can we get ice cream on the way? I want so many scoops. I want chocolate, I want vanilla, and I want cookies.”

I chuckled, standing and balancing her on my hip. “I think that you're going to be getting a sugar rush if I allow you to have all this ice cream.”

“I will not. I'm going to be good and I'm not going to scream. I'm not going to run. I'm going to listen to you, pinky promise.” She said as her eyes widened with mock horror.

“We'll see you when we get to the ice cream stop.” I said, making her smile.

I carried her through the small daycare, exchanging nods with the other parents and teachers. Miss Clara waved at us from behind her desk, a sweet woman who had helped Emma settle into human schooling while we kept our pack’s secrets hidden.

“See you tomorrow, Emma!” Miss Clara called.

“Bye, Miss Clara!”

I pushed open the door, the cool afternoon air brushing against my face. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows along the street. Emma rested her head on my shoulder, her earlier energy fading into the drowsy calm that always settled over her after a long day of play.

I started down the path, the familiar hum of the city filling the silence between us. My mind wandered, pack meetings, rogue patrols, the endless responsibilities that came with being an Alpha. But beneath it all was that ever-present void, the emptiness that I felt was one that I couldn’t quite fill.

It had been three years. Three years since she disappeared.

Aurora Ross.

No matter how many times I tried to search for her, no matter the number of days that I spent looking out for her, calling for her, howling as I wondered whether or not she would hear my call. Nothing. She was not there.

Her name whispered through my thoughts like a ghost. I had convinced myself that she was dead, that the river had claimed her fragile body. It was easier than facing the possibility that she had survived, that she had chosen to leave, to abandon the pack.

“Uncle Ethan?”

Emma’s sleepy voice pulled me back. I adjusted her on my hip, offering a small smile. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

She didn’t answer, her eyelids already drooping. I chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Guess that ice cream will have to wait. I'm guessing that you're going to need to go to sleep. A little nap is not going to hurt you.”

“No, I'm wide awake.” She said, and I chuckled. She was halfway asleep. She would have passed out the second that I got her inside the car. I knew that.

We turned the corner, approaching the small playground adjacent to the daycare. Parents milled about, gathering their children, sharing soft laughter and gentle scolds. I slowed, my wolf stirring within me, a sudden prickle of awareness that set my instincts on edge.

And then I saw her.

A woman stood by the daycare gate, one hand resting on a small, curly-haired girl’s shoulder. She was bent down, murmuring softly, her expression tender and weary.

My breath hitched.

The little girl tugged on the woman’s coat, her eyes, green, bright, achingly familiar, shifting through the crowd. For a moment, her gaze landed on me, and something flared inside my chest.

Recognition.

Bond.

No…

My wolf pushed against my skin, a low growl rumbling in my chest. Emma stirred, and I tightened my hold on her, my mind racing.

It couldn’t be.

The woman straightened, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her face came into full view, and the world seemed to narrow, every sound fading into a dull hum.

Aurora.

My mate.

My rejected, long-lost mate.

She looked different, thinner, her features sharper, shadowed by exhaustion. But it was her. The same soft curve of her lips, the same delicate arch of her brows. And to make matters worse, she was hiding her scent. She was trying to hide from me.

And the little girl...

The bond that I felt towards her. It was impossible. No…

My daughter.

There was no mistaking it. Her scent mingled with Aurora’s, threads of my own woven into the fabric of their bond. It was undeniable, a truth that crashed over me with the force of a tidal wave.

My muscles locked, every instinct screaming at me to move, to go to her, to demand answers. But my feet remained rooted to the ground, my mind struggling to piece together the jagged edges of reality.

Aurora turned, her hand slipping into the little girl’s. She led her down the street, their figures blending into the flow of the crowd.

And I could only watch, my heart thundering, my mind a tangled snarl of disbelief and fury.

She was alive.

She had a child.

My child.

And she had hidden it all from me.

The betrayal burned, white-hot and blinding. My wolf snarled, claws scraping against my control. I wanted to chase after her, to grab her and force the truth from her lips.

But I couldn’t.

Not yet.

Instead, I held Emma closer, my fingers digging into the soft fabric of her jacket. I forced my breathing to steady, my expression to remain impassive.

Because if Aurora thought she could run from me again, if she believed she could keep my daughter from me…

She was about to learn just how dangerous it is to mess with me.