Chapter 6

Monday came too fast. I drove Theo to the Pup Academy myself. I hadn't slept.

Theo was cheerful in the backseat, swinging his legs, singing a little song about the Great Bunny and the Moon. He had his yellow cap pulled low over his ears and a juice box in his lap. He didn't ask about my neck again. Four-year-olds forget, I told myself. Four-year-olds forget.

I pulled up to the Academy gate. Teachers were lined up waiting for morning drop-off. Theo unbuckled himself before I had the car in park.

"Daddy, I can walk."

"Stay close —"

Too late. He was already out. He trotted across the courtyard, backpack bouncing. I climbed out and followed, meaning to catch him before he reached the classroom line.

I didn't make it.

Ethan was standing by the low iron gate. Black coat. Hands in his pockets. He was talking to one of the teachers. The second he saw us his whole face shifted.

Theo saw him too.

"Fry Uncle!"

I opened my mouth to call him back. Theo was already running. He hit Ethan at the knees and wrapped both small arms around his leg.

Ethan stopped mid-sentence. The teacher blinked. Three other parents looked over.

I watched Ethan Blackwood, future Alpha of Blackwood Pack, a man who had pinned my hands to a mattress twelve hours ago without mercy, go down on one knee in front of my son.

"Pup. You shouldn't run in the courtyard."

"I can run," Theo said, breathless and proud. "Look. I have new shoes. Daddy bought them."

Ethan held Theo's small ankle in his palm. His thumb brushed over the leather. "They're good shoes." His voice had gone quiet the way voices go when someone is trying not to break. "Does it hurt when you run, pup?"

Theo shook his head hard. "No. Pup is strong."

"Very strong."

Ethan's eyes came up to find me. He didn't say anything to me. He didn't need to. The look said everything — I know. He's mine. Don't you dare.

I walked over and crouched down. "Theo, come on. Teacher's waiting."

"One more hug," Theo demanded. He hugged Ethan's neck. Ethan's jaw worked. When Theo let go, Ethan set him carefully back on his feet and smoothed the yellow cap.

"Have a good day, pup."

"Bye bye, Fry Uncle!"

I took Theo's hand and walked him toward the classroom. I did not look back. I could feel Ethan watching us the whole way. The Mark at my throat burned.

In the car, I sat with my hands on the steering wheel until my breathing slowed. Then I dialed Caleb.

"He saw Theo," I said. "At the gate. Today."

A pause. "Alright." Caleb was calm the way he was always calm when things had already gone over the cliff. "How'd the cub handle it?"

"He called him Fry Uncle. He hugged him."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"Milo, listen. Ethan's not going to let this one go. You and I both know that." Caleb's voice dropped. "Elder Silas is back from the coast next week. If the old man finds out there's a pup — a Blackwood pup — out of a Pack-Law violation, Ashford Pack has to respond."

"I know."

"Do you want me to book tickets?"

I stared out the windshield. The Academy courtyard had emptied. The gate was closed. Somewhere inside, Theo was sitting at a little plastic table, coloring a picture of a moon.

"Not yet."

That afternoon I tried to pry without looking like I was prying. Over dinner I asked Theo who his best friend at the Academy was.

"Ellie," he said, chewing. "She has yellow ribbons. She lives in the big house by the lake."

"Ellie," I repeated.

"Ellie Blackwood." Theo tried the full name carefully, proud that he'd remembered. "She says her Papa is a big Alpha and he's the scariest one and also he gives her candy in his pocket."

The fork slipped out of my hand and hit the plate.

"Daddy?"

"I'm fine, pup. Keep eating."

Ellie Blackwood. Ethan's daughter. Theo's classmate. Of course. The universe had made sure of it. Same Pack territory, same age cohort, same school district. There was never going to be an escape route through coincidence.

Somewhere on the other side of the city, in an office that looked out over the river, Ethan was standing at the window with his phone to his ear. I didn't know that yet. I would find it out later.

"The girlfriend's ruled out." Ethan's voice was flat. He was talking to his assistant. "It was never her."

"Sir, the blood work —"

"I know what the blood work said. I also know what my own nose told me last night." He paused. "The scar on his hip is from my Marking bite. Silver residue under the canine. The Crescent Club suite. Four years ago."

"Then the pup at the Academy —"

"Is mine."

There was a very long pause on the line. Then the assistant said, carefully, "Sir, what do you want me to do?"

Ethan turned away from the window. "Cancel the engagement party next month."

"Sir —"

"Cancel it."

He hung up. He set the phone on the desk. He pressed two fingers to his temple and closed his eyes. On the wall across from him, in a small silver frame, sat a single red ruby earring — a Blackwood heirloom, one of a matched pair. The other one had been missing for over twenty years.

He already knew who had it.