ASHER'S POV
Marcus walks into my office at six AM carrying a folder that could either save my life or destroy it.
"You look like hell," he says bluntly, dropping into the chair across from my desk.
"I didn't sleep." I grab the folder before he's even settled. "Tell me everything."
"Coffee first. You're shaking."
He's right. My hands are trembling so badly I can barely open the folder. I haven't slept, haven't eaten, can barely think past the image of those silver eyes. My children's eyes.
Marcus sets a cup in front of me. I ignore it and rip open the folder.
"Lily Rose Quinlan and Lucas James Quinlan," Marcus begins, watching me scan the documents. "Born four years and three months ago at Saint Catherine's Hospital. Emergency C-section after twenty-two hours of labor. Mother nearly bled out—required three transfusions and emergency surgery."
My stomach drops. "He almost died."
"Yeah. And he was completely alone. No mate listed, no pack, no family. Just an emergency contact named Sophie Chen who arrived six hours after delivery."
The words hit like punches. Ezra went through twenty-two hours of labor alone. Nearly died bringing my children into the world. While I was doing what? Probably closing some business deal. Going to pack meetings. Living my life like nothing was wrong.
"Birth certificates?" I force out.
"Mother: Ezra Quinlan. Father: blank."
Something hot and painful twists in my chest. "He didn't list Kai."
"No. He didn't list anyone."
Hope surges through me—irrational, desperate hope. "So legally, I could—"
"Slow down." Marcus holds up a hand. "Blank doesn't mean you have automatic rights. It means Ezra is sole legal guardian. To claim paternity, you'd need DNA tests and probably a court order since Ezra clearly doesn't want to cooperate."
"They're MINE. I could smell it. My wolf recognized them."
"I believe you. But courts don't accept 'my wolf told me' as evidence. You need proof."
I slam the folder shut, frustration making my Alpha dominance leak out. Marcus doesn't flinch—we've been friends since childhood—but I see his jaw tighten.
"What about Kai Volkov?" I ask, trying to control my temper.
"Alpha of the Volkov Pack—smaller than yours but well-respected. Known for progressive policies, Omega rights advocacy, takes in rogues. His first mate died of cancer three years ago before they could complete the bond."
"So he's single."
"Technically. But he's been publicly linked with Ezra for about two years. They attend events together, charity galas, business dinners. Photos show him with the twins frequently—park visits, school pickups, the whole domestic package."
Each word is a knife. "Do they live together?"
"No formal address sharing on record, but that doesn't mean much. Rich people are good at hiding living arrangements." Marcus pauses. "Asher, you need to understand something. Whatever Kai Volkov is to Ezra and those kids, he's been there. For two years, he's been the father figure while you didn't even know they existed."
"That's not my fault!"
"Isn't it?" Marcus's voice is gentle but firm. "You broke up with Ezra. Publicly humiliated him. Never tried to find him. If you'd reached out even once in five years, you'd have known."
The accusation stings because it's true. I could have fought my mother's threats. Could have searched for Ezra. Could have done a thousand things differently.
But I didn't.
"Is there anything else?" I ask coldly.
Marcus studies me for a long moment. "Yeah. One more thing. Ezra's not some struggling single Omega anymore. He built a consulting empire from nothing. His company is worth millions. He's got resources, connections, and a reputation as a fierce negotiator. If you go to war with him over custody, it won't be easy."
"I don't care about easy. Those are my children."
"Are you sure this is about the kids?" Marcus asks quietly. "Or is it about Ezra?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You've been miserable for five years. Wouldn't date, couldn't move on, kept that box of photos under your bed like some lovesick teenager. Now suddenly he's back and you're talking about custody battles?" He leans forward. "Be honest. Do you want the kids, or do you want an excuse to force Ezra back into your life?"
The question hits too close to home. "Both," I admit. "I want both. The twins are mine by blood, by bond, by every law that matters. And Ezra—" My voice breaks. "He's my mate. The Moon Goddess chose us. That doesn't just go away."
"It does if you destroy it," Marcus says softly. "Which you did."
"I know!" The words explode out of me. "I know what I did! I live with it every single day! But I can't change the past. I can only try to fix the future."
"By threatening him with lawyers?"
"I'm not threatening—I'm trying to do this properly! Through legal channels, with rights established, so there's no confusion about my role in their lives."
"Asher." Marcus's tone makes me stop and look at him. "You texted him last night that you hired a lawyer. How do you think that sounded to an Omega who's been raising his cubs alone for four years?"
Oh god. I thought I was being clear, establishing intentions. But from Ezra's perspective...
"He thinks I'm threatening to take them away," I whisper.
"Yeah. He probably does."
I bury my face in my hands. Everything I touch turns to poison. "I just want to see them. Talk to them. Be part of their lives."
"Then maybe start with an apology instead of legal threats."
He's right. Of course he's right. But my wolf is screaming that those are OUR cubs, that we have RIGHTS, that we can't let another Alpha raise our children.
"I need to see him," I say suddenly. "Today. Face to face."
"He's not going to meet with you."
"Then I'll find him." I pull up my computer, accessing the files Marcus sent. "His consulting firm has an office downtown. He's probably there right now, first day back at work."
"Asher, this is a bad idea—"
But I'm already grabbing my jacket. "I'm not threatening him. I'm just... being there. Showing him I'm serious about this."
"You're stalking him."
"I'm pursuing my mate and establishing a relationship with my children." I head for the door, then pause. "What was his coffee order? Back at the academy?"
Marcus sighs, knowing he's lost this argument. "Caramel macchiato. Extra hot. Two pumps vanilla."
"He still drinks that?"
"How would I know?"
But I know. Deep in my gut, I know Ezra still orders the same coffee because some things don't change. The small details, the tiny habits—those are the pieces of people that remain constant even when everything else falls apart.
Twenty minutes later, I'm standing outside Ezra's office building holding two expensive coffees from the fancy shop three blocks away. Caramel macchiato, extra hot, two pumps vanilla. And a black coffee for me because my hands need something to do besides shake.
This is insane. I'm ambushing him at work like some obsessed ex-boyfriend.
Which is exactly what I am.
My phone buzzes. Text from Marcus:
"Don't do this. You're making it worse."
But I can't stop. Won't stop. Those children have my eyes. Ezra is my mate. And I've wasted five years being a coward.
Not anymore.
I see him before he sees me. Walking through the lobby with his head down, scrolling through his phone. He looks tired, stressed. Beautiful.
My wolf surges forward: MATE.
I step into his path. "Ezra."
He looks up, and his expression goes from surprised to furious in half a second.
"What are you doing here?" His voice is dangerously quiet.
"I brought coffee. Your favorite. I remembered—"
"I don't want your coffee." But his eyes flick to the cup anyway, and I see recognition. He does still drink it. "How did you even know where to find me?"
"I—research—"
"You mean stalking." His amber eyes flash with anger. "You hired investigators to find out where I work. Where my children go to school. Where I LIVE."
"I needed to know they're safe—"
"They were safe until YOU showed up!" His voice rises, drawing stares from people in the lobby. "Do you have any idea what you've done? I spent four years building a life where they feel secure, and you've destroyed it in twenty-four hours!"
"I just want to talk—"
"No. You want to take them from me. That's what the lawyer threat was about, wasn't it? Establishing your 'rights' so you can drag me into court?"
"That's not—Ezra, I would never—"
"LIAR!" The word cracks through the lobby like a whip. "You're a liar. You lied when you said you loved me. You lied when you threw me away. And you're lying now about your intentions."
He turns to leave, but I grab his arm without thinking. "Please, just listen—"
The moment I touch him, everything stops.
A jolt of electricity shoots through my hand, up my arm, straight into my chest. The bond—the mate bond I thought was dead—surges to life like someone just hit me with lightning.
From Ezra's sharp gasp, he feels it too.
We both freeze, staring at where my hand grips his arm. The bond is ALIVE. Damaged, bleeding, broken in a thousand places—but alive.
Which should be impossible.
Because according to every law of wolf nature, rejected mate bonds don't come back.
Ezra jerks away from me like I've burned him, his eyes wide with shock and something that might be terror.
"No," he whispers. "No, that's not possible. I rejected it. I felt it die. This can't be—"
But it is.
The bond neither of us can deny is back.
And from the look on Ezra's face, this is his worst nightmare come true.