Alethea
“This has to be a joke, right?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. My whole body trembles, and I grip the phone tighter, desperate to wake up from this nightmare.
But Harvey’s voice pulled me back to reality “A child-around three years old-was found drowned in the nearby river. And judging by the description you gave me… your boy is three years old, right?”
No.
I shake my head violently, refusing to believe it. “No, no, no! That’s not my son!” The words spill out in a rush, but they feel hollow-like I’m trying to convince myself more than him.
My heart clenches painfully, my chest so tight it’s hard to breathe. Tears stream down my face as I squeeze my eyes shut, with the hope that this is some kind of cruel mistake.
But Harvey didn’t back down. “Isn’t that what you told me? That your boy is three years old? Blonde hair, green eyes?”
His voice is not on a slight edge now, probably because I’m testing his patience. But I don’t care about anything except the desperate hope that he’s wrong.
My breath hitches as I force myself to answer. “Yes, yes!” My words come out in a rush. “He’s three years old-blonde hair, piercing green eyes.” My voice breaks, and I slap a trembling hand over my mouth to stifle the sob threatening to break free.
I can’t break down right now. I need to be strong. For Declan.
Taking in a shaky breath, I force my body to stop trembling, but it’s nearly impossible. This… this is a nightmare I need to wake up from.
“Where are you right now?” I demand.
“I’m making my way to the river,” he says. “A rescue team has already dived in to retrieve the child.”
My heart clenches so tightly it feels like it might burst. It’s not my son. It’s not Declan. But despite my desperate denial, I need to see for myself.
“I’m coming there right now,” I say quickly, wiping at my tear-streaked face. “Give me the description.”
Harvey gives me the details, I nod even though he can’t see me.
“Thank you,” I whisper before hanging up.
For a moment, I just stand there, gripping the phone so tightly my knuckles turn white.
Please, goddess… let him be safe. Let this be a mistake. Let my boy come home to me.
I take a deep breath and glance at myself in the mirror. I look like a complete mess right now. My eyes are swollen, my face pale, but at least I don’t look completely unhinged.
With that, I dash out the door, my heart pounding in my chest. I’m drained. Emotionally and mentally.
My body feels weak, and for a moment, I wonder if I even have the strength to drive. But walking isn’t an option, and there’s no cab in sight.
I make my way toward Selena’s car. I need to get my damn car back soon-I can’t keep relying on hers.
Just as I reach for the door handle, a firm hand lands on my shoulder. I freeze.
Sparks erupt across my skin, tingling warmth spreading from where he’s touching me. I know exactly who it is.
Asher.
Slowly, I turn to face him. His dark, stormy eyes hold a mix of emotions I can’t even begin to unravel. But I’m too exhausted to care right now.
“I’ll drive,” he says, Without waiting for my response, he gently steers me toward the passenger seat.
I didn’t argue.
“Thank you,” I whisper as he helps me fasten my seatbelt. His fingers grazed against my skin, and his familiar scent wrapped around me, a mix of cedarwood and musk. My wolf stirs, purring loudly at the proximity of our mate.
Asher notices-he smirks-but I quickly turn my face away. I can’t let myself fall into this right now. My son is the only thing that matters.
Without another word, he moves to the driver’s seat, starts the engine, and pulls onto the road.
“To the riverbank, right?” His voice is calm, but there’s something in his tone-like he already knows the answer.
I snap my head toward him. How does he know?
For a second, I consider asking, but I don’t have the energy.
“Yes, the riverbank,” I murmur before resting my head against the seat.
“Okay,” he says simply and keeps driving.
The silence between us is heavy. But for once, I didn’t try to fill it.
All I can do is pray.
Please, let my son be safe.
I notice Asher’s jaw is clenched, his grip on the steering wheel tightening with every passing second. He’s angry. Hurt. Finding out about his son at a time like this-when Declan has been kidnapped-is killing him.
I understand his pain. But I had my reasons. I couldn’t let anyone take my son from me.
I almost want to scream at him, to explain, to defend myself. But I bite the inside of my cheek instead, stopping myself from saying anything that might push him over the edge.
The drive is long. I stare out the window, taking in the scenery of this quiet little town. It should feel peaceful, but something about it just feels… off. Maybe it’s my fear, or maybe it’s the tension between Asher and me.
He’s giving me the silent treatment, and honestly, I don’t blame him. I just wish I knew what was going through his mind. But I’m too exhausted to ask.
Suddenly, the car jerks to a stop, snapping me out of my daze.
I frown, turning to him. “Wait a minute… Why are you here, Asher? You shouldn’t be away from Redwood Pack for long. It isn’t good for you, and you know that.”
Finally, he looks at me. Like he wants to say something. But then he shakes his head and sighs as if deciding against it.
Without a word, he gets out of the car, rounds it, and opens my door.
I step out slowly, and that’s when I see it.
The river.
My breath catches in my throat as my eyes land on the crowd gathered near the water’s edge.
Something is happening.
I take a shaky step forward, my heartbeat hammering in my chest. No. No, no, no. That’s not my son. It can’t be my son.
Before I get too far, I feel Asher’s presence beside me. He reached for my hand, and for once, I didn’t pull away. I can’t. I’m too drained, too terrified to fight him.
Then, I hear Harvey’s voice. “Alethea.”
I turn toward him, and I feel Asher tense beside me. His grip on my hand tightens slightly. He doesn’t like Harvey.
But that doesn’t matter right now.
“Come have a closer look,” Harvey says, motioning me forward.
I hesitate, my legs trembling beneath me. My heart is pounding so hard it physically hurts. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to see it.
Please, Moon Goddess, let it not be my son.
Asher must sense how tense I am because he squeezes my shoulder gently. I turn to him, and despite everything, despite the storm of emotions raging inside him, he looks… calm.
Grounded.
It’s strange how much I need that right now.
“Thank you for being here,” I whisper.
He exhales sharply as if holding back a thousand words he wants to say. But in the end, he only nods.
And together, we take a step closer.
We walk toward the small, still figure on the ground, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst. This can’t be my son. I keep telling myself that.
I feel Asher’s gaze on me, and I know he can sense my emotions spiraling. My wolf is restless, clawing at the surface, desperate to protect what’s ours.
A lone tear slips down my cheek. Before I can wipe it away, Asher reaches out, with his gentle touch as he brushes it off my face. The warmth of his hand against my skin makes my breath hitch. Even now, when we’re drowning in so much pain
I swallow hard and reach for the fabric covering the child. My hands are shaking. I don’t want to do this.
But I have to.
As soon as I pull back the fabric, my heart jumps to my throat.
No.
A sharp gasp escapes me as Asher’s hand tightens around mine, with his firm grip, steady me.
His reaction tells me that he sees it too.
The truth is staring back at us.