Jace gazed at Rowan as if he had just witnessed the moon plummeting from the sky.
His chest rose beneath the material of his dark button-down, and he breathed quickly and shallowly. From astonishment to disbelief to something that made my heart flutter, his eyes—those familiar amber eyes—had changed.
Recognition.
Not from memory.
From blood.
From instinct.
"He's mine," he muttered.
With tiny fingers sinking into the hem of my shirt, Rowan held on to me even more tightly.
I said sharply as I moved ahead of him. "You dare not approach."
Jace froze. "Quinn—"
"You don't get to say his name. You are not allowed to gaze at him in that manner.
His jaw clenched. "He has my scent."
"He has your eyes, too," I snapped. "But that didn't stop you from tearing out our bond five years ago."
"I didn't—" His voice broke off. "I don't remember. You have to believe me."
I chuckled, but it was insincere. "You truly believe that "I don't remember knocking you up" is a sufficient justification?"
"I'm not offering an explanation."
"So, what on earth are you doing?"
"I'm trying to understand how I have a son that I was unaware of!"
I knelt down and held Rowan to my chest while he whimpered. "Shhh, baby. It's okay."
Jace's expression twisted with pain. "How old is he?"
I glared at him. "Do the math."
His shoulders sagged.
Five years.
Five years of silence. Five years of burying the memory. Five years of raising a child alone while he sat on a throne of lies.
"He was conceived the night we—" Jace stopped. His hands fisted. "The full moon. The one before I… rejected you?"
I said nothing.
But the silence was answer enough.
Abruptly, as if the weight of it all would crush him where he stood, Jace turned away. His shoulders shook as he pressed himself against the desk. I could feel the storm inside him — confusion, rage, grief, instinct all colliding.
It almost made me pity him.
Almost.
But then I remembered the months I spent vomiting alone in the woods, the birth I endured with no pack healer, the fear that my pup might inherit his father's strength with none of his control.
Pity had no place in me anymore.
"Why did you summon me?" I asked finally, still shielding Rowan. "What do you want from me?"
Jace turned back to face us.
His voice was low. Controlled. Alpha-command tight.
"There's been rogue movement near the northern ridge. You grew up on that border. You know the terrain better than anyone in the active ranks."
"And you just happened to call me back now?"
"I didn't know you were pregnant when you left. I didn't know you had my son."
"But you did know you rejected me."
Something flickered in his eyes—shame? Maybe. But I didn't care. Not yet.
"You're asking me to risk my life again for a pack that abandoned me, along with my son."
"Please help us protect our people," Jace asked. "Even if you don't forgive me."
I snorted. "That would require me believing you actually care."
"I do," he said firmly. "Whether or not you believe me."
The escalating tension was cut short by a loud knock on the office door.
Jace's head snapped toward it.
"What?" he barked.
The door opened a crack. A young Beta peeked in—barely twenty, still smelling of fresh adrenaline and rank uncertainty.
"Alpha, sorry to interrupt. The council is asking for you. There's been… an incident. Patrol found a sigil burned into the west field."
Jace's body went rigid.
"What kind of sigil?"
"The same one from the rogue attack last moon."
He tightened his jaw. "Inform them that I will arrive in five minutes."
The Beta nodded and disappeared.
I stood, lifting Rowan into my arms.
"I'm not staying," I said.
"You're not leaving," he replied just as fast. "Not until I get answers."
"You had five years to come looking for them."
"I didn't know what I'd lost," he growled.
I turned toward the door.
"Where will you go?" he demanded.
I didn't answer.
"Rogues are circling our borders. That sigil? It's a warning. If you're out there with Rowan, you're a target."
"Why would they pursue us?"
"Because you're mine," Jace replied in a menacingly low voice. "And they know hurting you would hurt me."
My pulse spiked.
Rowan pressed his head to my shoulder.
Jace stepped closer. "Stay. Just for now. You'll be safe in the Alpha wing."
"You think I trust you to keep us safe?"
"No," he said. "But I'm asking you to try."
I should've said no.
Should've turned and walked out the door.
But Rowan was yawning against my shoulder, and the sound of that young Beta's voice still echoed in my head—a sigil burned into the west field.
The same one from the last rogue attack?
I didn't like coincidences.
Especially not when my son was involved.
I gave a tight nod. "One night."
Jace relaxed. "I'll have a room prepared."
"No," I said sharply. "I'm not leaving him alone."
"You won't have to."
"I want separate quarters. And a lock."
"You'll have it."
Later, as the sun dipped low behind the hills, I stood at the window of the guest suite in the Alpha wing and watched the pack warriors shift into their wolf forms for the evening drills.
Rowan was curled up on the bed behind me, already dozing.
My arms still ached from holding him so tight during the drive.
Jace hadn't come back after the council meeting.
Good.
I wasn't ready to face him again.
Not until I understood why he didn't remember.
Because I'd spent years believing he abandoned me on purpose.
That he'd used me, discarded me, and moved on like I'd meant nothing.
But the way he looked at Rowan…
That wasn't faked.
That was real.
And it terrified me.
I became anxious as I heard a gentle knock on the door.
I grabbed the blade I concealed in my coat's inside.
"Quinn," came Jace's voice. "It's just me."
I opened the door a crack. He stood there alone, jacket off, eyes tired but steady.
"Can we talk?"
I hesitated.
Then stepped aside.
He moved quietly, glancing once at the bed where Rowan slept, then back to me.
"I'm not here to fight," he said.
"Good. I don't have the energy."
He nodded. "I wanted to ask about the night I lost my memory."
I folded my arms. "Now you're curious."
"I didn't know I was missing anything. No one told me."
"Convenient."
"Not for me," he said. "I've had nightmares ever since. Gaps. Flashes. Pain that doesn't make sense."
I swallowed hard.
"I remember… a fire," he said slowly. "And your voice. And a mark on my neck."
I blinked. "A mark?"
He looked at me. "Yours."
My heart struck my ribs hard.
I muttered, "That shouldn't be possible."
"I know."
He stepped closer.
"I don't remember the night. But my wolf does."
I backed up.
He didn't stop.
"Jace…"
"I think someone took it from me."
"What?"
"The memories. The bond. Something's wrong. I can feel it."
My head spun. "That's not possible. Bond memories can't be erased—"
"Unless they were blocked." His voice was tight. "Magically. Or chemically."
"That's forbidden," I said. "Only the high council can"
His expression said everything.
The council.
His uncle.
The traitors.
A loud bang shook the walls.
I jumped.
Jace turned sharply, instincts flaring.
Then came the scream.
High-pitched.
Child-sized.
"Papa!" Rowan shrieked from the other room.
I bolted.
Jace was right behind me.
We burst into the bedroom
Just in time to see Rowan floating above the bed.
His eyes had a golden light.
He clenched his fingers into claws.
And wolves-shaped shadows moved across the walls.
Unnatural wolves.