Chapter 4

DAMIEN'S POV

The heavy oak doors of my estate snapped shut behind us with a loud, final click, echoing off the towering marble walls of the foyer.

 

My chest felt like it was caving in. 

 

Every breath I pulled into my lungs tasted like ash. I stood in the center of the entrance hall, staring at the slender woman shivering beside the entryway, her arms wrapped tightly around the sleeping boy tucked against her shoulder.

 

Four years. Four agonizing, hollow years my wolf and I had spent scouring every city, every pack territory, every human corner of the continent for a single trace of her. 

 

I had torn through full packs, nearly started a war with neighboring territories, and bled myself raw searching for Ava.

 

And now, here she was. Soaking wet, smelling of rain and cheap disinfectant, standing in my hallway with another man's child in her arms.

 

My wolf clawed wildly against the back of my mind, its low, guttural snarl reverberating straight through my skull.

Mine, the beast roared, pacing furiously beneath my skin. 

 

She is ours. Mine.

 

She left us, I spat back internally, clenching my jaw until my teeth ached. She walked away, built a life, and had a child with someone else.

 

"Take your hand off my shoulder," Ava whispered coldly, not even looking at me. Her hazel eyes were fixed on the floor, her shoulders trembling, though whether from the freezing rain or sheer hatred, I couldn't tell.

 

I slowly pulled my hand back, forcing my fingers to unclench. "Marcus," I called out, my voice coming out lower than I meant it to, like something in my chest had cracked and the words were leaking out through it.

 

My head of security stepped out from the shadows of the adjacent hallway, bowing his head respectfully. "Yes, boss?"

 

"Prepare the guest suite on the East Wing," I ordered, keeping my eyes locked on Ava's pale face. "Bring up dry towels, fresh clothes, and warm food immediately."

 

"I don't want your food," Ava snapped, her gaze flashing up to meet mine. The fiery defiance in her eyes burned through the quiet hall. "I don't want your towels, and I don't want your damn room. Let us go, Damien."

 

"Look at your son, Ava," I said, pointing a finger toward the small boy whose head rested heavily on her neck. "He’s shivering. His clothes are damp, and he has nowhere to sleep. Are you really going to let your pride keep him cold just to spite me?"

 

She bit her bottom lip hard, enough to draw blood, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She hated that I was right. She hated every second of being in my presence.

 

"Fine," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "Just the room. Then leave us alone."

 

"Show her up, Marcus," I said, stepping back to give her space. As Marcus led her toward the grand staircase, I couldn't stop my eyes from trailing down to the child in her arms. 

 

The boy shifted in his sleep, his little dark brown curls bouncing slightly as Ava adjusted her grip. A strange, sharp tug pulled at my chest, a heavy, suffocating weight that made my wolf go dead silent for a fraction of a second.

 

I turned away before the feeling could consume me, walking straight into my private study and slamming the door shut behind me.

 

I didn't turn on the lights. I crossed the room in the dark, found the edge of the desk by memory alone, and gripped it so hard the oak splintered under my fingers. Nothing in this house was built to hold what I was feeling. Not even the wood. How could she do this? How could she sit in that cheap room and tell me she had built a family? 

My father had locked me away in the pack dungeon the very next hour to force me into an alliance, and the entire time I was chained in silver, the only thing that kept my sanity intact was the thought of getting back to her.

 

I spent months breaking my body to escape, only to find her apartment completely empty. She had wiped away every trace of her existence. And now I knew why.

 

A soft knock rattled the study door, cutting through my spiraling thoughts. "Enter," I growled. The door swung open, and Marcus stepped inside, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. 

 

"She is settled in the East Wing, sir. The boy is asleep, and she has accepted the food, though she refuses to speak to any of the staff."

 

"Keep two guards outside her door," I commanded, staring out the floor-to-ceiling glass window into the rainy courtyard below. "She is not to leave the estate grounds under any circumstances."

 

"Understood, Alpha. But..." Marcus paused, hesitating. "What about the pack council? Your father expects you at the assembly tomorrow evening to discuss the Blackwood merger. If Alpha Victor finds out you brought a human woman and a child into the estate….”

"My father does not rule this estate,” I cut in sharply, turning around to glare at him. My silver eyes narrowed in the dark room. “Victor Ashford can think whatever he pleases. If anyone in the pack tries to step foot in the East Wing, rip their throat out.”

 

"Yes, Alpha," Marcus bowed his head quickly. "There is one more thing. I asked our scouts to pull the city records on Ava activities over the past three years."

 

My pulse hammered against my ribs. "And?"

 

"She has been living in complete isolation," Marcus said, pulling a thin folder from his coat. "No record of marriage. No public records of a co-parent or domestic partner registered at her previous address. She worked two low-paying jobs and raised the boy entirely on her own."

 

I froze. "No partner?"

 

"Yes sir." I took the file from his hands, my eyes scanning the brief police and housing reports. No male co-tenant. No secondary signature on her lease.

 

If there was no man living with her, why had she lied to my face? Why had she claimed she had a family? "Leave," I ordered softly.

 

Once Marcus left the room, I walked out into the corridor. The house was deathly quiet, save for the rhythmic patter of rain against the glass roof. 

 

My feet carried me down the long, carpeted hallway of the East Wing before my brain could even process the decision.

 

I stopped right outside her door. The two guards bowed their heads and silently stepped aside. I turned the handle gently and pushed the door open.

 

The suite was softly lit by a single floor lamp in the corner. Ava was sitting on the edge of the large king-sized bed, wearing an oversized sweater one of the maids had brought up. 

 

She was staring blankly at her knees, her hands tightly folded in her lap. When the door clicked, her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing instantly.

 

"I told you to stay away from us," she said, her voice dropping into a tight, protective whisper as she glanced toward the small boy sleeping soundly under the duvet beside her.

 

"Who is his father, Ava?" I asked, walking into the room and closing the door behind me. I stopped at the foot of the bed, keeping my distance, but locking my eyes onto hers.

 

"I already told you," she said, her chest heaving as she stood up from the bed. "He's my son... My life is none of your business."

 

"Don't lie to me," I hissed, stepping closer. "I ran your records, Ava. There is no husband. There is no boyfriend listed on your apartment lease. You raised him alone."

 

Ava flinched slightly, her cheeks flushing red, but she held her chin high. "So what if I did? That doesn't mean he belongs to you. You lost any right to ask about my life the day you walked out on me four years ago."

 

"I didn't walk out," I shouted, taking another sharp step forward until I was standing right in front of her. 

 

The scent of her, sweet, pure, and completely overwhelming, flooded my senses, making my chest ache with a violent longing. "I spent four years searching for you. I almost died trying to get back to you!”