Logan’s POV
I felt the blood drain from my face. “Edward?” I repeated.
“Yes,” Erinne said, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Aria’s son. The child she claimed was yours.”
I stood there, frozen, as the weight of her words sank in. The child that had been hunting my thoughts for all this time… was right in front of me.
And it was in Erinne’s arms.
I stared at the child in Erinne’s arms, and a load of bile rose in my throat. Blonde hair. Bright eyes. The child was the spitting image of Denderick. How had I fallen for Aria’s lies? How had I believed for even a second that this boy was mine?
I gritted my teeth, feeling the anger bubbling up inside me, threatening to spill over. Was I that desperate for an heir?
My eyes bore into the child, but I spoke to Erinne instead. “Where did you find the boy?”
Erinne held the boy ever tighter to herself. That infuriating smugness never left her face. “I never killed him,” she said casually, as if the whole thing had been some minor inconvenience. “I only told Aria that to break her spirit. I wanted to see her cry, wanted to see her wail.”
She paused, then spoke again. “I grabbed the boy when Denderick stormed the pack house. Figured he might be useful.”
I could hardly believe it. She’d lied, manipulated Aria just as I had, but for her own twisted reasons. My fists tightened even more, my nails digging into my palms. The sight of the boy, Denderick’s boy, filled me with disgust and rage. I had been played-first by Aria, and now by this child’s very existence.
My voice shook with anger as I spat, “Kill him.”
Erinne blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“I said kill him,” I growled. “Stick a knife in his heart or drown him. I don’t care. Just get rid of him. I do not want to see him.”
I watched Erinne’s eyes widen for a split second before she composed herself, shaking her head slowly. “That’s a crazy move, Alpha Logan. You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment here.”
I shook my head even as she spoke. “The boy is a constant reminder of what I’ve lost, of the lies Aria fed me. He’s Denderick’s bastard, not mine.”
Surprisingly, Erinne remained calm. “You need to think beyond your bruised ego, Logan. This boy is leverage. Do you really want to throw that away?”
Her words stopped me for a moment. Leverage. It had a nice ring to it. But my anger flared again. “Leverage for what? You think Denderick will just roll over and give up everything because we have his son?”
“Not immediately,” Erinne cut back at me, her voice sharp and calculated. “But the boy is a piece on the board, a powerful one. You want your kingdom back? We use him. We can squeeze Denderick until there’s nothing left.”
I didn’t answer right away. My thoughts were a whirlwind of rage, frustration, and grudging acknowledgment of the sense in her words. The child, much as I hated him, could be useful. But the sight of him made my skin crawl, my fists itch to crush something.
I looked at Erinne, my eyes narrowing. “So what do you propose we do?”
Erinne smirked again, her lips curling upward like a snake ready to strike. “It’s simple. We send Denderick a message. A nice, formal letter. We make him sweat. We make him realize what’s at stake if he doesn’t give you back what’s yours.”
She held the boy a little tighter in her arms, rocking him gently. “All I need is a piece of parchment, some ink, and a quill. Leave the rest to me.”
I stared at her in mild surprise. Of course, a letter was the best way to convey our message. Erinne was shockingly smart about this. The idea was sound, but it still felt like giving in. Like admitting that I couldn’t just take what I wanted by force.
But I knew we weren’t in a position to storm Denderick’s territory, at least not yet. I had only about fifty men with me-less, if what Erinne said about them leaving was true. I couldn’t just let my emotions drive me into another reckless mistake.
“Fine,” I muttered. “Do whatever you must. But make sure it works, Erinne. I’m not in the mood for another failure.”
Erinne’s smirk grew even wider. “Don’t worry, Logan. I know exactly what I’m doing.”
I didn’t respond, just turned away, staring out at the forest beyond the treehouse. My mind churned with thoughts of vengeance, of reclaiming what I had lost. The child… Denderick’s son… was the key. As much as I hated it, I would have to use him.
“I’ll need your warriors to get me the writing supplies,” she said, still in that calm, calculating tone.
I nodded stiffly. “They’ll provide what you need.”
Erinne stood, adjusting the boy in her arms as if he were some fragile treasure. She glanced at me, a sly smile playing on her lips. “This will work, Logan. You’ll get your kingdom back, and more.”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t care for her reassurances. All I cared about was seeing Denderick suffer, seeing Aria broken and begging for mercy. They had taken everything from me, and I would see them pay in blood.
Erinne turned and began to leave, carrying the boy with her. I watched her go, my eyes narrowing as the trees swallowed her figure. I had no idea where she was going to, but I was assured of her competence. If anyone could match my callousness, it was Erinne. The sight of that child still made my skin crawl, but at the very least, I had a weapon now. A way to strike back.
I sat back down on the floor, my hands trembling with anger and anticipation. The thought of Denderick realizing his son was in my hands, knowing that I could destroy him at any moment, sent a thrill through me, a dark satisfaction.
As long as that boy lived, Denderick would never be safe.
But there was one thought that wouldn’t leave me, one thought that nagged at the back of my mind, no matter how hard I tried to push it away.
What if Aria came back for her son?
A cold smile spread across my lips. If she did, she would regret it.