Blackwood Pack Territory, upstate New York
Two days later
The gates opened without a sound.
Ryan's black Range Rover rolled in slowly, like it was dragging chains.
The guards at the entrance straightened when they saw the car, but the moment Ryan stepped out, they froze.
Their Alpha looked wrong.
His face was carved from stone, eyes red-rimmed, jaw covered in two-day stubble.
The usual cold authority was still there, but now it carried something darker.
Something broken and furious at the same time.
The pack members in the courtyard felt it instantly.
Conversations died. Children were pulled inside.
Even the wind seemed to hush.
Ryan walked straight toward the pack house, boots crunching on frost-covered gravel.
Scarlett was waiting on the front steps, arms crossed, red hair glowing under the porch light.
She wore a tight white dress and a smile that used to make him weak.
Now it made his stomach turn.
"Ryan!" She hurried down the steps, voice sugary. "Finally! Did you bring my ring? I've been dying to see it!"
He stopped two feet away.
Looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time.
All the memories hit him at once:
The night of the ceremony. Scarlett's arm around his waist. Her laugh when Aria cried.
The way she had whispered, "She was never good enough for you," while he shattered his mate's heart.
He felt sick.
Scarlett reached for his hand. "Baby? Talk to me."
He pulled away.
"No ring," he said, voice flat and dead. "Not yet."
Her smile faltered. "What do you mean not yet? You were gone two days!"
He didn't answer.
Just walked past her, up the steps, into the house.
Scarlett stood there, mouth open, watching him disappear.
Inside the hallway, she caught the scent.
Very faint. Almost hidden under his cologne and the city smell.
But unmistakable to a she-wolf.
Another female.
Scarlett's manicured nails dug into her palms.
She pulled out her phone, turned her back to the guards, and dialed.
"Jace. It's me. I want eyes on Ryan. Twenty-four seven.
Find out who he met in New York. I want names, addresses, photos. Everything.
If there's a woman, I want to know what she looks like before she takes her next breath."
She hung up, smiled sweetly at a passing omega, then followed Ryan inside.
Manhattan, same night, 9:17 p.m.
The penthouse was quiet except for the soft hum of the city far below.
I sat on the edge of Leo's bed, pulling the blanket up to his chin.
His black curls were still damp from bath time.
He smelled like baby shampoo and warmth.
"Mommy," he murmured, already half-asleep, "the man with my eyes… he cried in the hallway."
My heart cracked open all over again.
I brushed his hair back gently. "Some grown-ups cry when they remember sad things, baby."
"Was he sad because of you?"
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Maybe."
Leo's little hand found mine. "Don't be sad, Mommy. I love you most."
"I love you mostest," I whispered, kissing his forehead.
His breathing evened out.
He was gone to dreams in seconds.
I stayed there a long time, watching the rise and fall of his small chest.
Ice-blue eyes.
Ryan's eyes.
Every time Leo looked at me with them, I saw the man who destroyed me.
And the man I once loved more than life.
I stood up slowly, turned off the night-light that projected tiny stars on the ceiling, and walked out.
In the living room, I poured myself a glass of wine with shaking hands.
I couldn't stop replaying Ryan's face when he realized.
The tears. The broken voice.
Sorry doesn't fix five years, Ryan.
I opened my laptop.
On the screen: the final design of Scarlett's engagement ring.
Black diamond. Blood rubies. A hidden mechanism inside the band (my own little addition).
When the ring was finished, one tiny twist would release a needle tipped with liquid wolfsbane.
Not enough to kill. Just enough to burn for weeks.
Petty? Yes.
But I had earned petty.
My phone buzzed. Unknown number.
I ignored it.
It buzzed again.
Then a text.
Unknown: I know you're awake. The light in your window is on.
My blood turned to ice.
I ran to the window, yanked the curtain aside.
Sixty-eight floors below, on the empty sidewalk, stood a lone figure in a black coat.
He looked straight up.
Even from this distance, I knew it was him.
Another text.
Ryan: I'm not leaving until you talk to me.
I closed the curtain, heart hammering.
Another text.
Ryan: I fired the guards who let you run that night.
I banished the Elders who said nothing when I rejected you.
I have spent five years trying to become someone who deserved you.
I failed. But I'm trying again.
I threw the phone across the room.
It hit the sofa and bounced.
I pressed both hands to my mouth to keep from screaming.
He didn't get to do this.
He didn't get to stand there like a tragic hero after everything.
I grabbed my coat, my keys, took the private elevator down.
The lobby was empty except for the night doorman, who knew better than to speak when I looked like this.
I stormed out into the freezing night.
Ryan hadn't moved.
He stood under the streetlight, hands in pockets, breath fogging in the air.
I stopped five feet away.
"What the hell do you want?" I hissed.
He looked exhausted. Beautiful and ruined.
"I want my family," he said simply.
"You don't have a family. You threw it away."
"I know." His voice cracked. "I know what I did. I live with it every single day."
I laughed, sharp and ugly. "Good. I hope it eats you alive."
"It does." He took one step closer. "Aria—"
"Eva."
"Eva." He tasted the name like it hurt. "I'm not here to take him from you. I'm here to beg. On my knees if I have to."
He actually started to kneel.
I grabbed his arm and yanked him up. "Don't you dare make a scene in front of my building."
He let me pull him into the shadows beside the entrance.
Up close, he looked worse.
Dark circles. Unshaven. Eyes bloodshot.
"I fired Scarlett tonight," he said quietly.
I blinked. "What?"
"She's gone. Banished from the pack. For good."
I stared at him. "You're lying."
"I wish I was." He gave a broken laugh. "She tried to claw my face when I told her. Took four warriors to drag her out."
I didn't know what to say.
He kept talking, words tumbling out.
"I kept your room exactly the same. Your white dress is still hanging in the closet. I couldn't… I couldn't touch it."
"Stop."
"I built a playground in the east clearing. For when… for if you ever came back with… with him."
"Stop it, Ryan!"
"I named the new school library after you. Aria's House of Books. The kids love it."
I slapped him.
Hard.
His head snapped to the side.
We both breathed heavy in the cold air.
When he turned back, blood trickled from his lip.
He didn't wipe it away.
"I deserve that," he whispered. "I deserve everything you want to give me. Hate me. Hurt me. I'm not going anywhere."
I backed away until the wall touched my spine.
"Leave," I said, voice shaking. "Or I disappear tomorrow. New names. New country. You will never find us again."
He closed his eyes like I had stabbed him.
Then he nodded once.
"Okay."
He stepped back into the streetlight. "But I'll be here every night. Same spot. Until you're ready to talk. Or until you leave. If you leave, I'll follow. Quietly. From a distance. Just to keep you both safe."
He turned and walked away.
Disappeared into the night.
I stood there until my fingers went numb from cold.
Then I looked up at the sky.
The moon was almost full.
She watched me, silent and silver.
I whispered to her, the way I used to when I was eighteen and heartbroken.
"What do I do now?"
The moon didn't answer.
But somewhere inside my chest, the broken bond pulsed.
Once.
Like a heartbeat that refused to die.