LUNA'S POV
"Are you my daddy?"
The question hangs in the air like a grenade with the pin pulled. Every wolf in the ballroom holds their breath, waiting for the explosion.
Kieran's face goes through a thousand emotions in seconds—shock, joy, terror, wonder. His hand trembles as it hovers near Asher's cheek, not quite touching.
"I..." His voice cracks. "Yes. I'm your father."
Asher's smile could light up the entire world. "I knew it! I told Mommy you had to be real because I have your eyes and Uncle Dante said—"
"Asher, baby, not now." I stand quickly, lifting him onto my hip despite the fact that he's getting too big for it. My hands shake as I hold him close, putting myself between him and Kieran. "We need to get you somewhere safe."
"But I want to talk to my daddy—"
"Later." My voice comes out harsher than I intended. Asher's face falls, and guilt stabs through me. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. But the bad wolves might come back. We need to protect you first."
Kieran rises to his feet, his expression fierce. "He'll stay in my personal quarters. Top floor. Most secure room in the estate. I'll assign my best warriors—"
"He stays with me," I cut him off.
"Luna, be reasonable—"
"I don't care about reasonable! He's my son and he's not leaving my sight!"
Dante clears his throat, playing mediator for once. "What if we compromise? The boy stays in the guest suite with Luna. I'll take a separate room. Kieran's warriors guard the hallway. My warriors guard the exterior. Maximum security, and Luna keeps Asher close."
It's logical. Smart. Everything I should agree to.
But I can see the hunger in Kieran's eyes as he looks at Asher. Four years of missed birthdays, first words, first steps—he wants it all back. And I'm terrified that if I let him in, he'll take Asher away from me.
"Fine," I say tightly. "But Kieran doesn't come near him until we deal with the rogue threat."
"The hell I don't—"
"Those are my terms!" My power flares, making the chandeliers swing. "You want to be his father? Prove it. Protect him. Keep him safe. Then maybe—maybe—we'll talk about visitation."
Kieran's jaw clenches so hard I hear his teeth grind. But he nods. "Deal. But after this is over, we're having a very long conversation about custody."
"There's nothing to discuss—"
"He's my heir, Luna. My son. You can't keep him from me forever."
"Watch me."
Before Kieran can respond, Marcus approaches with an urgent expression. "Alpha, we need to prepare for the summit dinner. The other pack leaders will be arriving soon. Protocol demands—"
"Cancel it," Kieran snaps.
"We can't. The alliance negotiations—"
"I said cancel it!"
Marcus flinches. "Alpha, with respect, canceling now would show weakness. The other Alphas are already questioning your ability to protect a True Luna. If we don't proceed as planned..."
He's right. Pack politics are brutal. Any sign of weakness gets exploited.
Kieran's expression turns cold and calculating—his Alpha mask sliding into place. "Fine. Dinner proceeds as scheduled. But I want triple security. Nobody gets within fifty feet of Luna or the boy without clearance."
"What about me?" Asher pipes up, his voice small. "Do I have to go to the scary dinner?"
"No, baby." I kiss his forehead. "Cass will stay with you upstairs. You can have pizza and watch movies until I get back."
"But I want to stay with you and my daddy—"
"Asher." I make my voice gentle but firm. "This is grown-up business. Dangerous business. You need to be somewhere safe."
His bottom lip trembles. He's been so brave, but he's still just four years old. Still my baby.
Kieran kneels down again, bringing himself to Asher's eye level. "Hey, little wolf. Your mom's right. But I promise—after we deal with the bad guys, you and I are going to spend lots of time together. Okay?"
Asher looks at him with those heartbreakingly hopeful eyes. "Really?"
"Really. I've missed four years with you. I'm not missing another day if I can help it."
The gentleness in Kieran's voice breaks something in my chest. This is the man I fell in love with five years ago—before the rejection, before the pain. The man who would have been an incredible father.
If he hadn't thrown us away.
Two hours later, I'm sitting at a formal dinner table surrounded by Alphas, their mates, and political sharks disguised as wolves. Asher is safely upstairs with Cass and a small army of guards. I should feel relieved.
Instead, I feel like I'm about to crawl out of my skin.
Kieran sits at the head of the table, every inch the powerful Alpha. But his eyes keep finding mine, burning with questions and accusations and something darker that makes the mate bond pulse with heat.
I'm seated between Dante and a Blackwood pack member—a she-wolf named Helena who won't stop chattering.
"So, Mrs. Volkov, how did you and Alpha Dante meet? Everyone's dying to know!"
I paste on a smile. "He saved my life. I was being attacked by humans who didn't like wolves in their territory. Dante intervened."
All true. Just missing the part where I was pregnant and terrified, where Dante offered me protection in exchange for a contract marriage, where I agreed because I had nowhere else to go.
"How romantic!" Helena sighs dreamily.
Across the table, I hear a metallic creak. Kieran's fork is bending in his grip, silver warping under the pressure of his fingers.
Our eyes meet. The mate bond screams.
I look away quickly, focusing on my untouched food. My stomach is twisted in knots. Being this close to Kieran after five years of separation is torture. Every instinct I have wants to go to him, to touch him, to complete what was started.
My wolf is whining constantly, begging me to acknowledge our mate.
But he's not our mate anymore. He gave up that right.
Dante leans close, his breath warm against my ear. "You're shaking."
"I'm fine."
"You're not. The bond is affecting you." His voice drops lower. "Do you want to leave? I can make an excuse."
Yes. God, yes. I want to run upstairs, grab Asher, and disappear into the night where Kieran Blackwood can't find us.
But that would be cowardice. And I'm not that broken girl anymore.
"I'm staying."
Dante's hand finds mine under the table, squeezing gently. It's meant to be comforting, but I see Kieran's nostrils flare as he scents Dante's touch on me.
His wolf is close to the surface. Dangerously close.
The dinner drags on for eternity. Course after course of food I can't eat. Conversation I can't follow. And always, always, Kieran's eyes on me like brands.
Finally, mercifully, it ends. Wolves begin mingling, forming political alliances and making deals. I slip away from the crowd, needing air, needing space, needing anything but this suffocating proximity to my past.
I find myself on a balcony overlooking the forest. The night air is cool, helping to clear my head. I lean against the railing, closing my eyes, trying to find some semblance of calm.
The mate bond is pure torture. Being this close to Kieran makes my wolf howl with longing. Five years of separation and it's like no time has passed.
I hate it. Hate him. Hate myself for still feeling this pull.
"You look beautiful tonight."
Kieran's voice behind me. Of course. Of course he followed me.
"Go away," I say without turning around.
"We need to talk."
"We have nothing to talk about."
"We have a son, Luna. That's a lifetime of things to talk about."
"You mean the son you didn't know existed until two hours ago?" I finally face him, anger giving me strength. "The son I raised alone because you decided I wasn't good enough?"
Kieran's face tightens with pain. "That's not—I never said you weren't good enough."
"You didn't have to. The rejection said it loud and clear."
He steps closer, and I instinctively back up until I'm pressed against the railing. Trapped between cold metal and the heat of my mate.
"I rejected you to protect you," Kieran says, his voice low and intense. "Not because you were weak. Because you were precious. Vulnerable. And my enemies would have used that against me."
"So you used it against me instead?"
"I made a mistake!" The confession bursts out of him. "The worst mistake of my life. I know that now. I've known it for five years. But Luna, you have to understand—being Alpha means making impossible choices. Protecting the many by sacrificing—"
"By sacrificing me," I finish bitterly. "How noble."
"It wasn't noble. It was cowardice." His honesty stuns me. "I was twenty-five years old, new to being Alpha, terrified of losing everyone I loved the way I lost my father. So I pushed you away before my enemies could take you from me. And in doing so, I lost you anyway."
The raw pain in his voice makes my chest ache. For a moment, I see past the powerful Alpha to the scared young man who rejected his mate to save her.
Then I remember the humiliation. The shame. My father's death.
"Your excuses don't change what you did."
"I know." Kieran's hand lifts, cupping my face with devastating gentleness. "But I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to make it right. Starting with protecting our son from whatever's coming for him."
The mate bond flares hot between us. I can feel Kieran's heartbeat, his breath, the warmth of his skin. My wolf is screaming to kiss him, to claim him, to finish what we started five years ago.
"Don't," I whisper, but I don't pull away. "Don't do this."
"Do what?"
"Make me feel something I don't want to feel."
"Too late." His thumb brushes across my cheekbone. "You've been making me feel things I can't control for five years. Fair's fair."
He leans in, and I know I should stop this. Should push him away. Should remember all the reasons I hate him.
But the mate bond is too strong. The pull too intense.
Our lips are an inch apart when a scream tears through the night.
A child's scream.
Asher's scream.
I'm moving before conscious thought, shoving past Kieran, running for the house. Terror floods my veins, turning everything cold.
Not my baby. Please, not my baby.
We burst through the ballroom. Wolves scatter as we race for the stairs. Kieran is right behind me, both of us running toward our son's screams.
The guest suite door is hanging off its hinges. Cass is unconscious on the floor, blood pooling beneath her head.
And Asher—
The room is empty. The window open.
My son is gone.