The silence in the office was deafening, a vacuum that sucked the oxygen right out of Killian's lungs. He stared at the boy, at Leo and felt a phantom pain in his chest, as if his own heart were being ripped out and shown to him.
The child had his brow, his jawline, and that unmistakable amber fire in his eyes.
"Leo," Killian whispered, the name tasting like ash and hope all at once.
He took a step forward, his hand trembling. The Alpha who had faced down armies was suddenly terrified of a four-year-old. But before he could get within three feet, a cold, metallic click echoed through the room.
Vincenzo had leveled a suppressed pistol at Killian's forehead.
"One more step, Alpha, and I'll see how fast a wolf heals from a silver round to the brain," Vincenzo said, his voice as flat and emotionless as the concrete streets of Palermo.
Lexa didn't look at the gun. She kept her eyes on Killian, her hand resting gently on Leo's head. "Leo, go. Now."
The boy sensed the jagged electricity in the room. He looked at the 'sad man' one last time, a look of strange, unnerving recognition and then turned, scurrying out the back door. The moment the door clicked shut, Lexa's expression shifted from protective mother to ruthless sovereign.
"Lower the gun, Vincenzo," she commanded. "He's not going to do anything. Are you, Killian?"
Killian didn't even acknowledge the weapon pointed at his skull. His eyes were fixed on the door where his son had just vanished. "He's mine. He's a Blackwood. I can feel him. How... How is he even alive? The healers said a human woman couldn't carry a Lycan's seed to term without the pack's protection. They said it would drain your life."
"Maybe your healers only know how to treat sheep, not lions," Lexa countered, stepping around her desk. She paced toward him, her heels clicking like a countdown. "I nearly died three times in the first six months. I bled, I starved, and I fought every day to keep him alive while you were probably busy bedding down with whatever 'warrior wolf' you thought was more worthy of your name."
Killian winced, the words cutting deeper than any silver blade. "I didn't know. Alessandra, if I had known"
"If you had known, you would have taken him!" she snarled, her mask finally slipping to reveal the raw, blistering rage beneath. "You would have ripped him from my arms the moment he was born and raised him in that cold, miserable pack house to be a weapon. You would have treated me like a broodmare and him like a trophy. I didn't save him for you, Killian. I saved him for me."
Killian slumped, the weight of five years of pride crashing down on his shoulders. He looked at her, at the woman who had built an empire out of the scraps of his rejection and he realized he had never known her at all. He had seen a doll; he had missed the goddess.
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice broken. "The mining rights? Take them. The territory? It's yours. Just let me... let me see him. Let me talk to him."
Lexa stood mere inches from him. The scent of her was overwhelming now, jasmine, expensive wine, and the cold, metallic tang of power. "You think it's that easy? You think you can trade a few rocks for five years of fatherhood? No, Alpha. You want an alliance? You want to see your son?"
She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear, her voice a deadly silk. "You will move into this estate. You will be my 'guest.' You will follow my laws, eat at my table, and act as my subordinate. If you so much as growl at one of my men, if you so much as mention the word 'Mate' to me, I will strip your pack of every weapon they have and leave you to the rogues."
Killian's wolf howled in protest at the thought of submission. An Alpha did not live under a human's roof. An Alpha did not follow a woman's laws.
But he looked at the door where Leo had gone. He remembered the tiny growl he had heard, a sound that proved his legacy survived in the most unlikely of places.
Killian Blackwood, the Butcher of the North, slowly lowered his head. He dropped to one knee, a gesture of absolute surrender that shattered the very foundations of Lycan tradition.
"I accept your terms, Lexa," he rasped. "I am yours. Just don't shut me out again."
Lexa looked down at the man who had once been her entire world, the man who had broken her heart without a second thought. She felt a flicker of the old bond, a ghost of a spark, but she crushed it under her heel.
"Vincenzo, prepare the guest quarters in the basement. The dark ones," she said, turning her back on him. "And tell the guards... we have a new dog in the house. Make sure he knows his place."
She walked back to her desk, the Shadow Queen once again. Killian stayed on his knees, his eyes fixed on the floor, knowing that the war outside his borders was nothing compared to the war he had just entered.
He had come for silver. He had found a son.
And he had finally met the woman who would be his ruin or his salvation.