Nathan's POV
We were in the jet, heading back home. For the past hours, my eyes had been fixed on them. The boys sat across from me, small, quiet, pretending to be braver than they were. Oscar leaned against the window, his green eyes following the clouds outside, though I knew he wasn't really seeing them. Oliver fidgeted with the seatbelt, his lips pressed together, his curiosity sparking every few minutes as if he wanted to ask me something but didn't dare. And Ozzy—calm, watchful—sat still as stone, his brown eyes locked on me like he was trying to read every move I made.
I told myself to look away. I told myself to stop. But my gaze always drifted back, especially to Oscar. Every breath he took, every twitch of his small hands, echoed inside me like thunder. My wolf paced, restless, clawing, whispering over and over: Mine. Mine. Mine.
