Chapter 7

Ethan.

I couldn’t stop myself from staring at her. The moment I saw Aurora standing in front of me, everything else faded into the background. My anger, which had been simmering for so long, was still there, but it had shifted. It was no longer just anger—it was something darker, something primal. My wolf paced restlessly inside of me, urging me forward, urging me to claim her, to drag her back to where she belonged.

My breath caught in my throat as I watched her, her figure more beautiful than I remembered, the same fiery defiance in her eyes. It didn’t matter how much time had passed; the effect she had on me was undeniable. Three years. Three fucking years. And I couldn’t stop myself from wanting her. From needing her.

"You’re the last person I ever thought we bother searching for me," Aurora said, shaking. "What the hell are you doing in my apartment? How did you sneak in?"

I clenched my fists at my sides, struggling to keep my wolf in check. I could feel the urge to snap, to take her right here, but I knew I had to play this carefully. My emotions were a dangerous thing around her, and I couldn't lose control.

Instead of answering her, I turned away and started walking around her small apartment. The walls were lined with bookshelves and a few mismatched paintings, but there was one thing that caught my eye. A photo. I moved toward it, my steps heavy and deliberate, and as I picked it up, I couldn’t help but feel my chest tighten.

It was a picture of Aurora, smiling, holding a small child in her arms. The kid looked to be around three years old, and she was the same girl I had seen with Aurora earlier. I turned it over, my mind racing, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in a way I wasn’t ready to accept.

I looked up at her, my voice hard. "A pleasant surprise," I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "I didn’t realize you had a child. Three years old, huh? Exactly the same age as the time you decided to run away from the palace."

Aurora froze, her expression unreadable. She didn’t say anything at first, and for a moment, I thought maybe I had miscalculated. 

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

I felt my blood boil. The disbelief in her voice made my wolf snarl, and I could feel the tension building in me. I hate lies!

I stepped toward her, my voice louder this time. "Don’t play coy with me, Aurora. Is that child mine?" I could feel the words ripping through my chest.

Aurora didn’t flinch. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, standing tall. "You don’t have any right to ask me that," she said, her voice almost a whisper, but there was an edge to it. "You’re the one who rejected me three years ago. You’re the one who decided I wasn’t worth it. And I left, so why the hell are you look for me?"

Her words cut deeper than I expected. My wolf has not been able to forgive me ever since that happened. But that doesn't give her the right to keep my child from me.

I moved toward her, my anger boiling over. My fist hit the wall before I even realized I was moving, the force of it cracking the plaster. The sound of it was deafening, and I could feel the heat of my rage radiating out of me.

Aurora jumped, her eyes wide with fear.

"Where is the child, Aurora?" I asked again, my voice a low growl. "Tell me where my daughter is."

Her eyes never left mine, and I could see the resistance in her. She wasn’t going to give in. Not easily.

"I’m not telling you anything," she replied. "I don't have your child and you will not take mine away from me!"

I took a step toward her, my jaw clenched. "You’re being stubborn, but I’m going to show you what stubborn actually is."

I turned to the men I had brought with me, standing near the door. My voice was cold, commanding. "Bring her. Now."

Aurora’s head snapped toward the door, her eyes widening as she realized what I meant. But it was too late. The men moved quickly, grabbing her arms before she could protest, pulling her toward the door. I watched, as they forced her to walk, her steps reluctant but steady. She didn’t struggle—just like I knew she wouldn’t. She never did.

The fact that she was so calm, so indifferent, pissed me off even more. That was exactly how she reacted when I first rejected her! More like she never loved me.

She didn’t say a word the entire ride to the mansion. The silence between us was suffocating. I could hear her breathing, but nothing else. I wanted her to yell at me, to scream, to fight back. But instead, she was like a statue, cold and unfeeling. It was the one thing I hated most about her.

When we arrived at the mansion, I didn’t waste any time. I gave orders to my men, and they led her inside.

"Lock her in her room," I told them, my voice hard. "Make sure she doesn’t leave until she decides to tell me where the child is. And I want her to be punished if she tries anything stupid. Lastly, I want you to watch her closely, she's very good at escaping!"