Stella, her hair plastered to her forehead, pushed herself up from the sun-baked concrete, the rough texture scratching against her skin.
“Look, I’m sorry!” Brandon blurted, the words tumbling out in a rush. His voice, usually bright and playful, was strained with a mixture of guilt and exhaustion.
Stella, her face etched with concern, watched him. She saw the tremor in his hands, the way his breath hitched in his chest. She nodded slowly, a silent acknowledgement of his apology. “It’s fine,” she replied, her gaze darting away, avoiding his gaze.
Brandon took a deep, shaky breath, his eyes flicking towards Bryce, whose struggles in the water had been the catalyst for this tense moment.
This was his chance to explain, to clear the air, but before he could utter a word, Stella seized the opportunity, her voice sharp and edged with a frantic energy.
“Damn-”
The word hung unfinished, cut short by the sudden rush of water as Stella splashed a generous amount onto Brandon’s face. He sputtered, gasping for air, his eyes wide with surprise and a touch of anger.
“Stop!” he choked out, his hands instinctively reaching for his throat.
A mischievous glint flickered in Stella’s eyes. “What? I can’t hear you!” she teased, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm, even as she continued to drench him.
“STELLA!” Flora’s sharp cry cut through the air, her finger pointing towards the water with a frantic urgency.
Bryce, far from the shallow end, was struggling desperately, his small body thrashing against the waves.
Without hesitation, Stella plunged into the water, her movements swift and powerful, a stark contrast to her previous breathless apology.
Brandon followed close behind, fueled by a surge of adrenaline and fear, but Stella reached Bryce first, her strong arms pulling him towards the surface.
They dragged Bryce to the shore, collapsing onto the hot concrete, his small body limp and lifeless.
Daisha, her face pale with terror, knelt beside them, her voice sharp and urgent. “Do CPR!”
Stella’s hands moved with practiced efficiency, a rhythmic push and pull against Bryce’s chest.
The tension in the air was palpable, broken only by the rhythmic sounds of CPR and the ragged gasps of those watching. Then, a miracle a weak gasp, a shuddering breath.
Bryce was alive.
Stella slumped back, her body trembling with relief and exhaustion.
Brandon, his heart pounding in his chest, pulled Bryce close, holding him tight, burying his face in the boy’s wet hair. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Bryce, still shaken, began to cry, his small body wracked with sobs. “Mommy!” He whimpered, his voice small and broken, reaching out for Stella.
A wave of maternal instinct washed over Stella, erasing the earlier tension. She gathered her strength, pulling Bryce into a tight embrace. “I’m really sorry, honey,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears, holding him close, the warmth of her body a comforting shield against the world’s harshness.
The salty tang of tears mingled with the chlorine on their skin, a stark reminder of the near-tragedy and the overwhelming relief that followed.
Bryce’s sobs subsided, replaced by sniffles as he nodded, his small body trembling.
The decision to go home hung heavy in the air.
“Why are you so care-” Daisha began, her voice laced with curiosity and a hint of concern.
Stella’s eyes flashed, silencing her sister with a sharp, “Stop!”
Darrel stepped in, taking Daisha’s hand. “Let’s go, Daisha,” he said gently, his voice firm but kind. They ascended the stairs, leaving Stella and the lingering tension behind.
Flora, her gaze lingering on Stella, offered a quiet farewell. “We are going back home now,” she said, her voice soft but resolute.
Stella offered a heartfelt, “Thank you so much!”
Flora nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the shared experience and the unspoken gratitude between them.
With Flora and Tyros gone, Stella and Bryce were left alone in the living room, the silence heavy with unspoken words.
“I’m-”
Brandon began, his voice hesitant, but Stella cut him off, her voice warm and reassuring. “Nah, don’t apologize,” she said, her eyes softening as she looked at Bryce. “You should go home too,” she added, her tone suggesting a gentle push, a recognition of the need for space and healing.
Brandon’s gaze shifted to Bryce, concern etched on his features. “But-” he started, but Stella interrupted again, her voice firm but not unkind.
“I can take care of him alone,” she insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Brandon, recognizing the unspoken need for Stella to process her emotions and care for her son without the added pressure of his presence, conceded. “Yeah, you’re right! I should leave now,” he said, his voice a mixture of understanding and a touch of sadness.
Stella didn’t meet his eyes, her focus remaining on Bryce. She carefully lifted Bryce into her arms, his small body nestled against hers.
“I can help-” Brandon offered, his hand instinctively reaching out.
“I can do this alone, Brandon,” Stella said, her voice steady, her resolve unwavering.
Brandon, understanding her need for solitude, refrained from further offers of assistance. He simply nodded, accepting her silent dismissal, a hint of disappointment lingering in his eyes.
He retrieved his belongings from his room, the quiet shuffle of his movements a counterpoint to the quiet intensity in Stella’s room. She gently placed Bryce on the bed, tucking him in, her movements gentle and loving.
“I’m really sorry,” she whispered to Bryce, her voice barely audible, a soft murmur lost in the quiet stillness of the room, a silent apology for the day’s events and the unspoken anxieties that lingered in the air.
Dawn painted the sky in soft pastels as Stella awoke, her eyes fluttering open to an empty space beside her. Panic clawed at her throat.
Bryce wasn’t there.
A cold dread iced her veins as she frantically searched the room, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. “Bryce! Bryce!” she called, her voice trembling, a desperate plea echoing in the quiet stillness of the bedroom.
“BRYCE!” she yelled, her voice cracking with rising panic, before bursting from the room, her bare feet padding softly against the floor.
“I’m here, Mommy!” a small voice chirped from the living room, instantly dissolving the icy grip of fear.
Relief washed over Stella in a tidal wave, leaving her weak-kneed and breathless. There he was, her precious Bryce, giggling as he played with Daisha on the plush living room rug.
Stella took a shaky breath, her chest heaving, the lingering echoes of her fear still reverberating within her. She walked towards him, her steps slow and deliberate, her eyes searching his face for any sign of distress. “You scared me!” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, collapsing onto the floor beside him.
Bryce, oblivious to the intensity of her fear, threw his arms around her, showering her cheeks with sloppy kisses.
Daisha explained with a casual shrug, “He woke up early, so I played with him!”
Stella nodded, a silent acknowledgment of her sister’s kindness, a wave of guilt washing over her for her immediate panic. “Yeah, I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice laced with genuine remorse.
Daisha, sensing her sister’s need for reassurance, stood up, her hand gently resting on Stella’s shoulder. “You should calm down now,” she said softly, before heading upstairs, leaving Stella and Bryce alone.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Stella said, her voice regaining its composure, gently guiding Bryce back to their room. She washed her face, the cool water a soothing balm against the lingering remnants of her fear, while Bryce happily played alone on the bed, his small toys scattered around him.
Once refreshed, they went downstairs, the familiar scent of home filling the air.
Stella began preparing breakfast, the rhythmic clatter of pans a soothing counterpoint to the morning’s events. “Daisha!” she called, her voice echoing through the house.
Daisha appeared almost instantly, her expression a mixture of curiosity and mild annoyance. “What?” she asked, her tone sharp but not unkind.
“Breakfast?” Stella asked, her voice hopeful.
Daisha rolled her eyes, her exasperation evident. “Dang! You scared me!” she exclaimed, her voice laced with a touch of playful annoyance.
Stella chuckled, combing Daisha’s hair, her earlier panic now a distant memory. “Do you want to eat breakfast with us?” Stella asked again, her tone softer this time.
“We already did! We woke up early!” Daisha replied, her voice matter-of-fact.
Stella simply nodded, patting Daisha’s shoulder, a silent understanding passing between them. “I’ll go home tomorrow,” she announced, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.
Daisha’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really? Why? You don’t like it here?” she peppered Stella with questions, her curiosity piqued by her sister’s sudden announcement.
“Nah! Don’t think like that, I just miss him!” Stella insisted, a slight tremor in her voice betraying the depth of her unspoken feelings.
Daisha smirked, a knowing glint in her eyes. She shook her head, a mixture of amusement and understanding in her expression, before patting Stella’s shoulder in a gesture of quiet support. “Fine,” she conceded, her tone suggesting a reluctant acceptance of Stella’s emotional state.
Daisha headed upstairs, leaving Stella alone with Bryce in the dining area.
“Let’s eat!” Stella announced, her voice regaining its usual cheerfulness as she attempted to push aside her lingering melancholy.
They ate breakfast, the familiar routine a comforting anchor in the uncertain currents of her emotions.
Afterwards, they ventured outside, the morning sun warming their faces. Their walk was peaceful until Bryce suddenly stopped, his small hand gripping Stella’s arm. “What is that?” he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, pointing towards the edge of the nearby woods.
Stella followed his gaze, her breath catching in her throat. A wolf, its fur the color of shadows, stood at the edge of the trees, its eyes fixed on them.
Instinctively, she shielded Bryce with her body, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. “Maybe a huge dog!” she said, her voice a little too high-pitched, trying to mask her rising unease with a forced laugh.
Bryce, easily distracted, nodded, his earlier apprehension seemingly forgotten as he resumed walking.
But Stella couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. A prickling sensation crawled up her spine, her senses heightened, her gaze constantly scanning the woods. “We should go back,” she said, her voice strained, the forced calm crumbling under the weight of her growing unease.
Just as she voiced her concern, Bryce’s attention was once again diverted. “I want to go there, Mommy!” he exclaimed, pointing towards a barely visible path leading deeper into the woods.
Stella took a deep breath, trying to regain control, her voice firm as she responded, “We can’t do that! It’s dangerous there!”
Before Stella could elaborate, a woman emerged from the trees, her presence as unexpected as the wolf’s. The scent of woodsmoke and something else, something primal and wild, hung in the air around her.
Stella instinctively pulled Bryce closer, her senses on high alert. She eyed the woman cautiously, her voice wary as she asked, “Do I know you?”
The woman smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. “I came from a different pack,” she replied, her voice soft yet commanding.
Stella’s grip on Bryce’s hand tightened, her body tense, her protective instincts kicking in. “Is he a young wolf?” the woman asked, her gaze lingering on Bryce, a hint of something unreadable in her eyes.
Bryce, echoing the woman’s words, repeated, “Wolf?”
Stella, her unease escalating, knew it was time to leave. “I’m sorry, but we need to go,” she said, her voice firm, her eyes never leaving the woman. “We should go,” she repeated, her tone brooking no argument.
With Bryce firmly in hand, they turned and walked away, leaving behind the enigmatic woman and the unsettling encounter at the edge of the woods.
Their retreat was cut short as another woman, her face etched with suspicion and anger, stepped into their path, effectively blocking their way home.
“What do you want from me?” Stella demanded, her voice tight with a mixture of fear and defiance.
The woman’s voice, sharp and accusatory, cut through the air. “I heard that your pack opened your land to the mortals. Are you not afraid of them now? Or you reveal our existence to them?”
Stella shook her head vehemently, her denial ringing with conviction. “We will never do that!” she insisted, casting a worried glance at Bryce, who stood beside her, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.
The woman’s gaze shifted to Bryce, her voice hardening. “But you have a plan to reveal our existence to that mortal!” she accused, her finger pointing directly at the unsuspecting child.
Stella, feeling a surge of panic, instinctively tried to shield Bryce from the woman’s accusatory gaze.
The two women circled Stella and Bryce, their eyes narrowed, their suspicion palpable.
“He’s just a child!” Stella pleaded, her voice strained.
“But still a mortal!” one of the women retorted, her tone unwavering.
Just as the situation threatened to escalate, a figure emerged from the shadows Theo. His presence was like a sudden storm, instantly shifting the balance of power. He stood beside Bryce, his mere presence exuding an aura of quiet strength that silenced the two women.
Startled by his sudden appearance, the women visibly recoiled, their earlier aggression replaced by a wary apprehension. “Do you know that lady?” one of them asked Theo, her voice barely a whisper.
Theo’s response was calm but firm. “Yeah, she’s my mate,” he stated, his tone leaving no room for doubt.
The women, clearly intimidated, exchanged a fleeting glance before turning and fleeing, their retreat as swift and silent as their arrival.
Stella, her body trembling with relief, let out a long, shaky breath, the tension finally releasing from her shoulders. She turned to Theo, her eyes brimming with gratitude, and threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. “I’m glad that you came,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
Theo, his gaze softening as he looked at Bryce, leaned down and whispered, “Who is he?”
Their arrival at Darrel’s house brought a temporary respite.
Stella quickly enlisted Daisha’s help, asking her to keep Bryce occupied.
“Let’s go, Bryce!” Daisha chirped, extending her hand to the child, her usual playful demeanor masking any apprehension she might have felt about the events that had just transpired.
Darrel followed them outside, leaving Stella and Theo alone.
Theo’s question hung in the air, his eyes searching hers. “So who is that kid?” he asked again, his tone serious.
Stella met his gaze, her expression resolute. “I will adopt him,” she declared, her voice steady, her decision firm.
Theo’s expression was unreadable, a mixture of surprise and concern etched on his features. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice a low murmur, his gaze intense.
Stella nodded, her conviction unwavering. “Then I will not stop you,” he said, his voice soft yet supportive.
Stella, overwhelmed by his acceptance, threw her arms around him again, her gratitude overflowing. “Really?” she asked, her voice muffled against his chest.
“Yeah, you already made up your mind,” he replied, his words a gentle reassurance, a silent affirmation of their shared future.
A wave of warmth spread through Stella as she introduced Theo to Bryce. “Bryce, this is Uncle Theo!” she said, her voice brimming with happiness.
Bryce, ever the sociable one, greeted Theo immediately. “Hi!” he chirped, his small hand reaching out to Theo.
“Hi!” Theo responded, his voice gentle as he opened his arms, welcoming the child into a warm embrace.
The seemingly innocent question that followed, however, hung in the air like a discordant note.
“Mom, where is Daddy?” Bryce asked, his voice innocent yet laced with an undercurrent of uncertainty.
The question, so simple on the surface, struck a jarring chord, causing Theo to turn his gaze to Stella, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern.
“Daddy?” Theo echoed, his voice laced with a questioning tone.
Stella, sensing the delicate situation, deflected the question with a gentle, “I will explain it later.”
Theo, recognizing the unspoken complexities, wisely refrained from further probing.
Their night at Darrel’s house, however, proved to be more challenging than anticipated.
Bryce, usually so adaptable, displayed a noticeable discomfort around Theo. The child’s unease was subtle yet palpable. “Mommy, I don’t like him,” Bryce whispered to Stella, his voice barely audible, his small body tense.
“Who?” Stella asked softly, her voice laced with concern.
Bryce pointed towards Theo, his gaze avoiding the man’s presence.
Stella, trying to reassure her son, responded with a gentle, “He’s a good man, honey,” but Bryce shook his head, his apprehension evident.
“He looks scary!” he whispered, his eyes darting away from Theo.
Stella took a deep breath, trying to remain calm, and gently caressed Bryce’s shoulder. “He will not hurt you,” she reassured him, her voice soft and soothing.
Bryce, however, remained unconvinced. “I want my Daddy!” he insisted, crossing his arms, his small body radiating a stubborn defiance.
Stella, seeing the distress in her son’s eyes, offered a compromise. “Okay, I will call your Daddy later,” she promised, her voice laced with a gentle firmness.
The promise seemed to soothe Bryce, a small smile finally gracing his lips.
The next morning, they returned to their land, the familiar surroundings offering a sense of comfort.
Theo drove his car, while Stella drove hers, Bryce nestled safely beside her.
“I will meet Daddy there?” Bryce asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
Stella smiled, confirming his hopes. “Yes! I will call him to meet you,” she said, her voice brimming with reassurance.
Bryce’s reaction was immediate and unrestrained a delighted clap of his hands, his joy infectious.
As they arrived at their home, the familiar sight of their house brought a sense of relief and closure.