Chapter 4
Three years later
"Mama, look what I drew!" Golden's excited voice pulled me from the kitchen as he burst through the door, his preschool drawing clutched in his tiny hands.
My heart clenched the way it always did when I looked at him. Three years old and already so much like his father; the same wheat-colored hair, the same stubborn chin, and those eyes. God, those eyes were exactly like Zeke's, molten gold that seemed to see right through you.
"Let me see, sweetheart." I set down the kettle and lifted him onto my lap, studying his crayon masterpiece. "Is this our house?"
"Uh-huh! And that's you, and that's me, and that's Aunty Fatima!" He pointed to each stick figure with pride. "Miss Sarah says I'm the best drawer in class."
"You absolutely are." I pressed a kiss to the top of his head, breathing in his sweet scent. "Why don't you go show Aunty Fatima? She's in the back counting today's catch."
Golden scrambled down and raced toward the storage room, his little feet pounding against the wooden floors. I smiled as watched him go, my chest tight with so much love for him. Love for this perfect little boy who'd become my entire world.
"Your boy's got too much energy," Fatima grumbled as he emerged from the back room, Golden clinging to her weathered hand. "Reminds me of my children at that age. Always into something. Never staying at ne place."
"Speaking of which," I glanced at the clock, "I should get him ready for lunch soon. You know how it is a hassle to strip him of his clothes so that I can bath him.”
As soon as Golden heard the word ‘bath’ he ran into the backroom, and me and Fatima chuckled.
Fatima helped me lay out the dining for the dishes.
“Where are your children?” I asked her. “Aren’t they supposed to be back from school?”
“I let them play by the shore,”
“Is that safe Fatima?” my voice grew worried. She smiled brightly at me. “They all know how to swim.”
I set some vegetables to boil, and I sat down by the dining, Fatima slipped in beside me. . "Cecelia, I've been meaning to ask. You ever think about... well, about Golden's father? He’s going to start asking questions soon."
I sat up straighter, alarmed by the sentence.. "There's nothing to discuss. Golden has everything he needs right here."
"I'm not trying to pry, but—"
"Mama!" Golden's scream cut through the air like a blade. "Mama, help!"
I spun around, but he was gone. The back door hung open, creaking in the harbor breeze.
"Golden!" I sprinted outside, Fatima close behind me. "Golden, where are you?"
“Golden!” We both yelled simultaneously. We were greeted with deafening silence.
The only noise was the cry of seagulls and the lapping of waves against the dock.
"Check the boat slips," Fatima shouted and I could hear the tremor in her voice. She walked toward the market. "I'll take the street."
My wolf senses kicked in as panic flooded my system. I could smell Golden's scent, faint but growing fainter, leading toward the tree line behind the Fishermen’s warehouse. My heart hammered as I followed the trail, calling his name until my voice went hoarse.
Nothing. My baby was gone.
By evening, we had alerted the pack, and half the pack was searching. Fatima organized search parties while the men combed every inch of Seacreek territory.
I sat in the pack house, staring at Golden's drawing, my hands shaking so violently I could barely hold it.
"We'll find him," Fatima said softly, placing a warm cup of tea in my hands. "These things happen sometimes. Kids wander off—"
"He didn't wander off." My voice came out flat, like all my life have been stolen from me "Someone took him. I can feel it."
Fatima squeezed my shoulder. "The Seacreek pack isn't large, but we're thorough. We've searched everywhere twice. If he's in our territory—"
"He's not." I stood abruptly, the cup clattering to the floor. "Whoever took him is long gone by now."
"Cecelia, you need to rest. You can't help Golden if you collapse from exhaustion."
Rest? How could I rest when my son; my golden boy was out there somewhere, probably scared and crying for his mama?
I looked outside and it was past sunset. If he had indeed wandered off, he would hav eocme home. He knew his way home. Somebody would have seen him. Somebody would have brought him back to me.
I closed my eyes, and suddenly I could see Zeke's face as clearly as if he were standing in front of me. Zeke, with his resources and connections. Zeke, who commanded respect and fear across multiple territories. Zeke, who could find anyone, anywhere.
The thought made me sick, but what choice did I have?
"I know someone who can help," I whispered, hating myself for the words. "Someone with the resources to search beyond Seacreek."
Fatima looked up from the tea she was sadly spooning. “Who is that?”
“You will not know him but he used to leave in the pack where I came from?”
She stood up. “If you’re going to your former pack, then I am coming with you.”
I placed my hands on her shoulders. “You don’t have to.” Her eyes held confusion. I swallowed. “It’s something I have to do alone.”
Fatima's eyes widened with understanding. "Cecelia, no. You swore you'd never—"
"I swore a lot of things." I picked up Golden's drawing, folding it carefully and tucking it into my pocket. "But my son's life is worth more than my pride."
“No, Cecelia.” She grabbed onto me as I made to turn away. “It’s best you inform the Alpha and have the Alpha meet Zeke on your behalf.”
“And where will that have me be?” My Voice cracked with tears. “Sitting around here, when I can be helping instead.”
I met her gaze, seeing my own desperation reflected in her eyes. "But who would have taken him? Why?”
I shook my head, the tears threatening to spill on my cheeks. And now I was going to see the one person I hoped I'd never have to face again.
Chapter 5
The Brooke Pack territory looked like entirely different from what I had known it to be
from three years ago. It was beautiful, impressive, and completely foreign to the place I'd once called home.
My hands trembled as I approached the main gates, every instinct screaming at me to run.
The last time I was here, somebody attempted to m*rder me, and for all I know,
the person could still want me dead. Now I was walking back into the zeke’s
mansion, and neither he nor Layla knew I was alive. "State your business," the guard said, his voice bored but professional.
"I need to see Alpha Zeke," I said, surprised by how steady my voice sounded.
"It's urgent."
The guard's eyes swept over me dismissively. "Yeah, you and half the unmated females
in the territory. The Alpha doesn't take walk-in appointments, especially not
from—" He paused, his nostrils flaring as he caught my scent. His face went white.
"What's your name?" His eyebrows arched in confusion.
"Cecelia Mayers." The name felt strange on my tongue after three years of just being 'Cecelia' or 'Golden's mama.'
The second guard stepped forward, his hand moving to his weapon. "That's impossible.
Cecelia Mayer is dead. We buried her three years ago."
"Clearly, reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated." I kept my voice level
despite the panic clawing at my chest. "I need to see Zeke. My son; our son has been taken."
Both guards exchanged glances, and I could practically see the wheels turning in their
heads. Dead Luna shows up claiming to have the Alpha's child? This was either the truth or the most elaborate con in pack history.
"You're lying," the first guard spat. "Luna Cecelia died in the sea. The Alpha led her funeral himself. You're just some desperate she-wolf trying to—"
"Trying to what?" I snapped, the composure I was trying so hard to keep cracking.
"Get myself killed? Because that's exactly what walking back here will accomplish if I am lying. I need to see Zeke.”
My voice broke on the last words, and I hated myself for the weakness. But the truth
was, I was terrified. Terrified of seeing him again, terrified of what he'd do
when he realized I was alive, terrified that he'd refuse to help find Golden out of spite.
I remember Layla was pregnant for him before I was pushed out to sea. He must have his own child now. I doubt he’d be any willing to help me. He might not even believe that Golden is his child.
For that reason, I carried a picture of Golden in my bag. He was a carbon copy of Zeke and hopefully, that was enough proof.
"Please," I whispered, all my pride crumbling. "My little boy is missing. He's only
three years old, and he's scared and alone, and I'll do anything to get him back."
The guards stared at me, stunned. Finally, the second one spoke.
"Wait here." He disappeared into the guard house, and I could hear him making frantic phone calls.
The minutes stretched like hours. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ward off the
memories that threatened to drown me. The last time I'd stood on these grounds,
Zeke had rejected me. I could still feel the excruciating pain that came with
that experience, and even when I tried to be alone to clear my thoughts, my sister came to insult me-adding salt to injury- and throw me over a cliff.
The sound of approaching footsteps snapped me back to the present. A whole contingent of guards was marching toward the gate, their faces grim. My wolf instincts kicked in, screaming at me to run, but I forced myself to stand my ground.
"Luna?" The head guard's voice was uncertain.. "Is it... is it really you?"
"I'm not your Luna anymore," I said quietly. "I'm just a mother trying to find her son."
"The Alpha... he'll want to see you immediately." The guard's face was pale.
"But I have to warn you, he's not the same man he was three years ago. The grief... it changed him."
Grief? I almost laughed at the irony. He'd grieved for the woman he'd rejected?
What kind of twisted psychology was that?
"I can handle Zeke," I lied smoothly. "I just need five minutes to explain about Golden."
As we walked to the palace, everybody stopped whatever they were doing to look at me in
something like reverent awe. I heard whispers of “I thought she is dead?” “We
attended her funeral.” The throne room doors loomed ahead of me, and my hands
sweated in anticipation of seeing Layla and Zeke again. I'd walked through them
countless times as Luna, but never like this; never as a stranger, never as someone who'd risen from the dead.
"He's in a meeting," the guard said apologetically. "But given the circumstances..."
"Just open the doors," I said, steel creeping into my voice. "My son doesn't have time for Zeke's schedule."
The doors swung open, and I stepped into the room that had once been my second home. It
was different now, something about it felt colder, more detached. The room
erupted in gasps as I stepped in. And there, at the far end of the long table, sat the man who'd haunted my dreams for three years.
Zeke.
He was exactly as I remembered and completely different all at once. He was still
devastatingly handsome, still radiating that dangerous alpha energy that had
first drawn me to him. My eyes scanned around for Layla, but she wasn’t here. I walked closer to him, the council elders chattering like a hive of bees.
But he was deep in conversation with his Beta, papers spread across the massive desk. He hadn't seen me yet.
"Alpha," the guard called out. "There's someone here to see you. Someone... important."
"I said no interruptions. Whatever it is can—"
He looked up.
Time stopped.
The color drained from his face so completely I thought he might faint. The papers in his
hands fluttered to the floor as he rose slowly from his chair, his eyes—those gold eyes that Golden had inherited—fixed on me in shock.
"Impossible," he breathed.
"Hello, Zeke." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "We need to talk."
For a moment, neither of us moved. The air between us crackled with tension.
"Everyone out," he commanded, his voice hoarse. "Now."
The room cleared instantly, leaving us alone with nothing but the sound of our thundering heartbeats.
"You're dead," he whispered, taking a step toward me. "I buried you. I mourned you. I—"
"Layla tried to kill me," I said simply. "But I survived. And now I need your help."
"Cecelia..."
"My son has been taken," I continued, I couldnt help the tears pouring down my cheeks. “You have to help him Zeke. He's also your son.”
He stood up, alarmed. “What do you mean, also my son?”
"I had him before Layla tried to kill him. He's three years old now.”
My tears must have really moved him because there was a concerned expression on his face. “How can I help?”
“I need your resources, your connections, your pack's strength to find him."
"Your son?" He was still trying to grapple what I had said earlier.
I met his eyes directly, seeing my own pain reflected there. "Our son, Zeke. His name is Golden, and he has your eyes."
Chapter 6
CECELIAS POV
The silence in Zeke's office pressed against my ears like water. He stood behind his massive oak desk, the same one that had belonged to his father, studying the photograph I'd handed him. Golden's face smiled up at him from the glossy paper. My son's eyes, those unmistakable molten gold eyes, stared back at his father for the first time.
I watched Zeke's face carefully. His jaw tightened. His fingers gripped the edges of the photo until the paper crinkled slightly. Whatever he'd been expecting when the guards dragged me into his council meeting, it wasn't this.
"How old is he?" His voice came out rough, like he'd swallowed gravel.
"Three years and four months."
His eyes snapped up to mine. I saw him doing the math, counting backward to that last month before I disappeared. Before Layla pushed me off that cliff and left me to drown.
"He looks exactly like you," I added, though it was obvious. Golden could have been Zeke's clone, right down to the stubborn set of his chin and the way his hair fell across his forehead.
Zeke set the photo down on his desk with deliberate care, like it might shatter if he wasn't gentle. "When did he go missing?"
"Yesterday afternoon. He was at preschool in Seacreek Pack. When I went to pick him up, he was gone."
"Seacreek," Zeke repeated. He walked around his desk, moving closer. My body tensed automatically. "That's where you've been all this time? Living in Seacreek?"
"Yes."
"And you never thought to send word that you were alive?" His tone stayed neutral, but I caught the edge underneath. "Never thought to mention that I had a son?"
My hands curled into fists at my sides. "Send word? To the man who rejected me? To the pack where my sister tried to murder me?" I forced myself to breathe slowly. "I built a life there, Zeke. A safe life for my child. Away from all of this."
"My child," he corrected, his voice dropping lower. "He's my child too."
"Only by biology." The words came out sharper than I intended. "You weren't there when I was pregnant and alone. You weren't there when I gave birth with only Fatima to help me. You weren't there for his first word, his first step, his first anything."
Zeke's eyes flashed. For a moment I thought he might argue, might throw his Alpha authority at me like he used to. But instead, he nodded once. "You're right. I wasn't there. Because I thought you were dead." He paused. "We buried you, Cecelia. There was a body. A funeral. I stood over your grave and..."
He didn't finish. I didn't want to know what he'd been about to say.
"The body wasn't me," I said flatly. "Obviously."
"Obviously." He studied my face like he was trying to memorize it, comparing it to whatever memory he'd carried for three years. "You look different."
"I am different."
"How did you survive the fall?"
"Does it matter right now?" My voice cracked despite my best efforts. "My son is missing. Someone took him. I came here because you have resources that Seacreek doesn't. I came here because as much as I hate it, you're the only one who can help me find him."
The admission tasted like ash in my mouth. Coming back here, asking Zeke for anything, went against every instinct I'd developed over the past three years. But Golden was more important than my pride. He was more important than anything.
Zeke moved to the large window behind his desk, his hands clasped behind his back. The late afternoon sun cast his profile in sharp relief. "I'll help you find him."
Relief flooded through me so suddenly my knees almost buckled. "Thank you."
"But I have conditions."
Of course he did. I straightened my spine. "What conditions?"
He turned to face me fully. "You stay here at the palace during the search. I need you close in case we get leads that require your immediate input."
"Fine."
"And you submit to a healer's examination."
My stomach dropped. "Why?"
"To confirm the child's paternity." His expression gave nothing away. "You show up after three years claiming to have my son. I believe you, but my pack council will want proof. Medical proof."
Heat crawled up my neck. "You think I'm lying?"
"I think I need documentation," he said evenly. "Blood tests, genetic markers, whatever the healer requires to establish that Golden is biologically mine. It's not personal, Cecelia. It's protocol."
Everything with Zeke was protocol. Duty and protocol and the pack's needs before anything else. That's why he'd married me in the first place. That's why he'd never loved me.
"Fine," I bit out. "Examine me. Test my blood. Do whatever you need to do. Just find my son."
"Our son," he corrected again.
I said nothing.
Zeke pulled out his phone and made a call. "Ryder, get in here." He ended it without waiting for a response. Within seconds, the door opened and a tall man with dark hair entered. I recognized him vaguely from before. Ryder had been one of Zeke's best trackers.
"Send a team to Seacreek Pack immediately," Zeke ordered. "A three year old boy went missing yesterday afternoon. His name is Golden. I want our best trackers on this. Treat it as a priority alpha case."
Ryder's eyes flicked to me briefly, widening in recognition and shock, but he was too well trained to comment. "Yes, Alpha. What's the last known location?"
"Seacreek preschool," I supplied. "He was supposed to be in the playground. When the teacher checked on the children, he was gone."
"Any witnesses?" Ryder asked.
I shook my head. "None that we could find. The Seacreek pack searched everywhere. We found nothing."
"We'll find something," Ryder promised. He nodded to Zeke and left quickly.
The door had barely closed before it opened again. Layla swept in without knocking, her face flushed with anger. She looked exactly as I remembered, beautiful and perfect, except now there were lines around her eyes that hadn't been there before.
"Zeke, what is the meaning of this?" she demanded. "The entire pack house is buzzing with rumors that Cecelia is alive and you're just entertaining this fantasy?"
I met her gaze directly. She froze mid step when she realized I was really standing there. Her face went white, then red, then white again.
"Hello, Layla," I said calmly.
She recovered faster than I expected. Her shock morphed into fury so quickly I almost missed the transition. "How dare you show your face here? What kind of sick game are you playing?"
"No game," Zeke said sharply. "She's alive. And she has information about my son."
"Your son?" Layla's voice went shrill. She gestured toward the doorway where a small blond boy stood partially hidden. Cameron. "Your son is right there. That's your son. This woman is clearly lying to manipulate you."
Cameron peered around his mother's legs, his blue eyes wide and confused. He looked so much like Layla it hurt. Not a trace of Zeke in him that I could see.
"Cecelia has a child," Zeke said, his tone hard. "A boy named Golden who is three years old. He's missing. I've agreed to help find him."
"Oh, how convenient." Layla's laugh was brittle. "She disappears for three years, supposedly dead, and now suddenly reappears with a mystery child that she claims is yours? This is obviously a ploy to get back into your life."
"The child looks exactly like me," Zeke said quietly.
"So what? She could have found any blond child and coached him. She could have fabricated the entire story." Layla moved closer to Zeke's desk, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. "Think about it rationally. Why would she wait three years to tell you about this supposed child? Why show up now, claiming he's been kidnapped? It's manipulation, Zeke. Pure manipulation."
Chapter 7
CECELIAS POV
I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood. Every instinct screamed at me to defend myself, to shout that I wasn't lying, that Golden was real and terrified somewhere without his mother. But I forced myself to stay quiet. Zeke needed to make this decision himself.
Zeke pulled his arm away from Layla's touch. "She's agreed to a healer's examination. That will settle any questions about paternity."
"A healer's exam?" Layla's voice rose another octave. "You're actually giving credibility to this insanity?"
"A child is missing," Zeke said coldly. "Whether he's mine or not, that's reason enough to investigate."
"She probably doesn't even have a child," Layla insisted. "This is all an elaborate scheme to worm her way back into your bed, into your life, into this pack. Can't you see that?"
"What I see," Zeke said, his Alpha authority bleeding into every word, "is that you need to leave my office. Now."
Layla flinched like he'd slapped her. "Zeke, please. You have to listen to me. She's dangerous. She's going to destroy everything we've built together."
"We haven't built anything together," Zeke said flatly. "Now get out."
"But Cameron—"
"Take Cameron to his room. I'll speak with you later."
Layla looked between us, her face twisting with emotions I couldn't name. Finally, she grabbed Cameron's hand and yanked him out of the office. The little boy stumbled, looking back at us with frightened eyes before the door slammed shut.
The silence that followed felt heavier than before.
"She's terrified," I said quietly.
Zeke turned to look at me. "Of what?"
"Of me. Of what my return means for her position here." I wrapped my arms around myself. "She tried to kill me once, Zeke. She pushed me off that cliff. She wanted me dead so she could take my place."
"I know."
The simple statement made me blink. "You know?"
"I suspected," he corrected. "Things never added up about your death. The body we found was badly decomposed but the timeline was wrong. The injuries didn't match a fall from the cliffs. There were inconsistencies everywhere." He rubbed his face tiredly. "But I had no proof. And Layla was pregnant, or so I thought. I couldn't exactly accuse her of murder without evidence."
"So you just let it go?"
"No." His voice hardened. "I investigated quietly. But everyone's stories matched. The pack accepted that you'd fallen, that your body had washed up weeks later. Without proof, without your testimony, I couldn't pursue it."
"And now?"
"Now you're here." He moved closer, close enough that I could smell his scent. It hit me like a physical blow, familiar and foreign all at once. "Now I can protect you properly. That's another reason you're staying at the palace."
"I don't need your protection."
"Three years ago you didn't think you needed it either," he said bluntly. "Look how that turned out."
The words stung because they were true. I'd been naive and trusting. I'd believed my sister loved me despite her jealousy. I'd believed Zeke when he said our marriage could work. I'd been stupid.
"I'm not that person anymore," I said.
"I can see that." Something in his expression shifted. "You're stronger now. Harder."
"I had to be."
"Tell me what happened," he said. "After the fall. How did you survive?"
I didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want to relive those terrifying moments in the water, the cold certainty that I was dying, the shock of waking up in Fatima's house weeks later. But maybe he needed to know. Maybe it mattered.
"Fatima found me," I said simply. "She's a fisher in Seacreek. She was checking her nets when she saw my body washed up on the shore. She pulled me out, brought me to her home, kept me alive until I woke up."
"How long were you unconscious?"
"Three months."
His eyes widened. "Three months in a coma?"
"Yes. When I finally woke up, I didn't remember what happened at first. Didn't remember falling, didn't remember who I was." I swallowed hard. "The memories came back slowly. And when they did, when I remembered Layla pushing me, I knew I couldn't come back here. Especially once Fatima told me I was pregnant."
"You were already pregnant when you fell?"
"About a month along," I confirmed. "I didn't know. We'd been trying but nothing had happened and I just assumed..." I trailed off. No need to finish that sentence.
Zeke's jaw worked. "If you'd come back, if you'd told me—"
"You would have what?" I interrupted. "Welcomed me with open arms while Layla was here playing house with you? While she was pregnant with your child?"
"She lost that baby," Zeke said quietly.
The information hit me sideways. "What?"
"Two months after your death, she miscarried. Stress, the healers said." His expression was unreadable. "Cameron came later. Almost a year after you disappeared."
I did the math in my head. Cameron looked about three years old, maybe slightly younger. If Layla had miscarried and then gotten pregnant again almost a year later, the timeline made sense. But something about it felt off. I couldn't put my finger on what exactly.
"I'm sorry she lost the baby," I said, and meant it. Whatever Layla had done to me, losing a child was its own kind of hell. "That must have been difficult."
"It was." Zeke moved back to his desk, putting distance between us again. "She blamed herself. Said if she hadn't been so upset about your death, if she'd taken better care of herself..."
He didn't need to finish. I understood.
"But none of that matters right now," I said firmly. "What matters is finding Golden. Everything else can wait."
Zeke nodded. "Agreed. I've arranged for you to see the pack healer tonight. She'll do the examination and run whatever tests are needed."
"Fine."
"Until then, I'll have someone show you to your quarters. You'll be staying in the guest wing."
Not the Luna's chambers. Not anywhere close to where we used to sleep together. Good. I didn't want any reminders of what we'd had and lost.
"The guest wing is fine," I said.
He picked up his phone again but hesitated before making the call. "Cecelia."
"What?"
"I meant what I said. I will find our son. I promise you that."
Our son. He kept saying it like that, claiming Golden as his even though he'd never met the boy, never held him, never heard his laugh or wiped away his tears. Part of me wanted to rage at him for it. Part of me was grateful.
"Just find him alive," I whispered. "That's all I care about."
Chapter 8
CECELIAS POV
Zeke's hand moved across the desk. For a heartbeat I thought he might try to take mine, might try to offer some gesture of comfort. But then he seemed to think better of it and pulled back. The moment passed.
He made the call. A young woman appeared within minutes, introducing herself as Beth, one of the palace staff. She gave me curious glances but was professional enough not to ask questions.
"Show Miss Mayers to the blue suite in the guest wing," Zeke instructed. "Make sure she has everything she needs."
"Yes, Alpha." Beth gestured for me to follow her.
I turned to leave but paused at the door. "Zeke."
He looked up from the papers he'd already started reviewing. Always working. Always focused on duty.
"Thank you," I said. "For helping. I know this is complicated."
"He's my son," Zeke said simply. "Nothing is more important than that."
I believed him. Maybe that was foolish. Maybe I should have learned my lesson about trusting this man. But when it came to Golden, I had no choice.
Beth led me through hallways that were painfully familiar yet somehow different. New paintings on the walls. Different furniture. Small changes that spoke of time passing, of life continuing without me. Pack members we passed did double takes, their shock evident on their faces. The dead Luna walking through their home like a ghost made flesh.
The blue suite was lovely, all soft colors and comfortable furniture. Nothing like the grand Luna's chambers with their heavy drapes and formal decor. This felt more like a nice hotel room than a home.
"Is there anything you need right away?" Beth asked. "Food? Fresh clothes? The Alpha mentioned you came directly from Seacreek."
"I'm fine for now," I said. My bag from Fatima's house sat by the door where someone must have brought it. Everything I owned in the world fit in one small duffel. "Thank you."
Beth nodded and left, closing the door softly behind her.
I stood alone in the blue suite, surrounded by unfamiliar luxury, and let myself feel the weight of what I'd just done. I'd walked back into the palace where I'd been betrayed, where I'd suffered, where I'd lost everything. I'd put myself at the mercy of the man who'd rejected me and the sister who'd tried to kill me.
For Golden. All for Golden.
I pulled out my phone and called Fatima. She answered on the first ring.
"Did he believe you?" she asked immediately.
"Yes. He's sending trackers to Seacreek right now. He'll help find Golden."
"Thank the goddess." I heard the relief in her voice. "Are you safe there?"
"As safe as I can be. Zeke's putting me in the guest quarters. He wants me to stay during the search."
"And your sister?"
"She knows I'm alive now. She's not happy about it."
Fatima made a worried sound. "Watch your back, Cecelia. That woman is dangerous."
"I know." I sat on the edge of the bed, exhaustion hitting me suddenly. "But I can handle her. I'm not the same person I was three years ago."
"No," Fatima agreed. "You're stronger now. Just don't forget that strength."
We talked for a few more minutes before I let her go. She needed to care for her own children, and I needed to prepare for whatever came next.
I unpacked my small bag, hanging up the few clothes I'd brought. One of Golden's shirts had somehow made it into my things. I held it to my face, breathing in his scent. Baby shampoo and sunshine and something uniquely Golden.
"I'm going to find you," I whispered to the empty room. "I promise, baby. Mama's going to bring you home."
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. I opened it to find a middle aged woman with kind eyes and a healer's bag.
"Miss Mayers? I'm Healer Margaret. The Alpha asked me to examine you this evening."
Right. The paternity test. Proof that Golden was Zeke's son.
"Come in," I said, stepping aside.
Margaret set up her equipment efficiently. She drew blood, took measurements, asked questions about my pregnancy and Golden's birth. Her manner was professional but not unkind.
"This must be difficult for you," she said as she labeled the blood vials. "Coming back after so long."
"You have no idea."
"Actually," Margaret said carefully, "I was the healer who examined you after your mating ceremony. I remember you. You were so nervous that day."
I had been. Terrified, actually. A stranger in a new pack, mated to a man I barely knew, surrounded by people who whispered about the adopted daughter who'd somehow stolen the golden son's attention.
"A lot has changed since then," I said.
"Indeed." Margaret finished packing up her supplies. "The results will take a few hours to process. I'll have them sent directly to the Alpha."
"Thank you."
She paused at the door. "For what it's worth, I hope you find your son quickly. No child should be separated from their mother."
After she left, I showered and changed into clean clothes. The hot water felt like heaven against my skin but I couldn't fully relax. Somewhere out there, Golden was alone and scared. Every minute I spent here doing nothing felt like a betrayal.
The sun had set by the time another knock came. I opened the door expecting Beth or maybe another palace staff member. Instead, I found myself face to face with Zeke.
"The trackers just reported in from Seacreek," he said without preamble. "I thought you'd want to hear the update."
"Yes. What did they find?"
"Not much, unfortunately. They confirmed what you already knew. Golden's scent trail leads from the preschool to the edge of the territory, then disappears. Whoever took him used scent blocking herbs."
My heart sank. "So we have nothing."
"We have something," Zeke corrected. "One of the teachers remembered seeing a dark colored vehicle parked near the preschool that afternoon. She didn't think anything of it at the time because parents are always coming and going. But she said it seemed out of place because she didn't recognize it."
"What kind of vehicle?"
"She couldn't say for sure. Dark, possibly black or navy blue. Larger than a sedan, smaller than a full SUV." He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "It's not much but it's a start."
"It's more than we had before," I said.
We stood in the doorway, neither quite willing to invite the other in or walk away. The silence stretched between us, heavy with three years of absence and all the words we'd never said.
"Margaret said the test results will be ready soon," Zeke said finally.
"I know."
"I never doubted you," he added. "About Golden being mine. I just need—"
"Documentation," I finished. "You said. It's fine, Zeke. I understand."
He nodded but didn't move to leave. "Are you settling in alright? Do you need anything?"
"I'm fine."
"Cecelia—"
A door slammed somewhere down the hall, followed by raised voices. Layla's voice, shrill and angry, and another voice trying to calm her down.
"I should go," Zeke said. "I need to deal with that."
"Of course."
He started to walk away, then turned back. "I meant what I said earlier. About protecting you. If Layla tries anything, if anyone makes you feel unsafe here, you tell me immediately. Understood?"
"Understood."
He left then, his footsteps echoing down the hallway toward where Layla's voice had come from. I closed my door and leaned against it, my heart pounding.
This was going to be harder than I thought. Being here, seeing Zeke, pretending I didn't feel anything when he was close. The mate bond we'd rejected three years ago still hummed between us, fainter than before but present. Like a scar that ached in cold weather.
I moved to the window and looked out over the palace grounds. Somewhere beyond these walls, my son was waiting for me to find him. That was what mattered. Not the past, not old feelings, not the complicated mess of Zeke and Layla and everything that had happened.
Just Golden. Just bringing my baby home.
A soft sound made me turn. Someone had slid an envelope under my door while I'd been at the window. I picked it up with shaking hands.
Inside was a single photograph. Golden, sitting in what looked like a concrete room, his little face streaked with tears. He was holding today's newspaper. Proof of life.
On the back, written in block letters: STOP LOOKING OR THE NEXT PHOTO WON'T BE SO PLEASANT.
I must have made a sound because suddenly Beth was at my door, knocking urgently. "Miss Mayers? Are you alright?"
I opened the door, the photo clutched in my hand. "Get Zeke. Now."
She saw my face and ran.
Zeke arrived within minutes, Layla forgotten. He took one look at the photo and his expression went deadly cold.
"When did this arrive?" he demanded.
"Just now. Someone slid it under my door."
He examined the envelope carefully. "No postage. Hand delivered." His eyes met mine. "Someone in this palace took this photo and brought it here. Someone inside my pack is working with whoever took Golden."
The implications crashed over me. We weren't just looking for outside kidnappers. The enemy was already inside the gates.
And they knew exactly where to find me.
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