Chapter 179

DEREK

“Kill her?!”

The words tore out of me before I could stop them, louder than I meant, harsher than I wanted. They echoed off the sterile white walls of the hospital hallway like a weapon fired in a church—sacrilegious and final.

Aiden gasped.

His fingers slipped, dropping his half-eaten candy wrapper to the floor. His lip trembled. His eyes, so much like hers, went wide with a kind of fear that made my stomach turn.

And then—just like that—he started to cry.

Not loud, not dramatic. No sobs. Just a quiet, breathless sort of crying that fractured something deep in me. The kind where the pain is too big to find words for. The kind that makes you older just from hearing it.

I scooped him into my arms in a single motion, pressing him against my chest. He clung to me instantly—arms locking tight around my neck, face burrowed into my shoulder like he could block out the world by hiding in my shirt.

I felt his tears soak through the fabric. Felt the little tremors of his chest against mine. Gods, I wanted to take it all back—the words, the panic, everything.

The doctor’s face shifted—guilt flickering over his features. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you—or the boy.” He motioned gently toward Aiden, his voice softer now. “But this is extremely serious. Elena’s case is unlike anything I’ve dealt with before.”

I adjusted my grip on Aiden, one hand at the base of his back, the other on his head. His tiny fists were balled tight in the collar of my shirt, like if he let go, I might disappear too.

“I’ve read her file,” the doctor continued. “The memory loss. The... tampering. What was done to her wasn’t natural. It wasn’t even ethical.”

His tone had shifted, too—something between clinical and disturbed. As if even speaking it aloud made it harder to process.

I didn’t say Logan’s name. But it pulsed in my head like a sickness. The sessions. The manipulation. All dressed up as treatment.

What he did to her went beyond cruelty. All just to hide the fact that his fated mate was a rogue who had been a friend to Elena. Because he was as prejudiced as I was when I first met her.

If he wasn’t already dead, I’d tear him apart myself.

The doctor’s voice brought me back. “Her hippocampus—and the surrounding structures in her temporal lobe—have been under an enormous amount of stress. Her brain is like a map that’s been erased and redrawn too many times. The pathways to your memories, to the moments you shared with her, are fragile. If you force her to remember before her brain is ready, it could result in permanent damage. Psychological, yes—but physiological as well.”

Aiden, still wrapped around my neck, sniffled. His tears were soaking through the shoulder of my shirt.

Then, quietly, his voice came through, small and shaky.

“So I can’t tell my mom that her mate is my dad?”

The doctor’s expression turned somber. “I’m sorry, son.”

Aiden’s breath hitched. He pulled back just enough to look me in the eye. “But that means… that as far as my mom knows… she’s a single mom.”

His voice cracked on the words.

“That means I won’t get to see my dad. At all!”

And then he clutched me harder, with a kind of desperate strength that made it hard to breathe. Not because he was squeezing too tightly—because I was falling apart inside.

I smoothed a hand over his hair, kissed the top of his head. “It’s okay, buddy,” I murmured, trying to steady my voice for his sake. “We’ll figure it out. I’m not going anywhere.”

But it hurt. Godess, it hurt.

Because everything he’d said was right.

To Elena… I was just some stranger in her hospital room. Not the mate who chased her through a thousand arguments and half-healed wounds. Not the man who fought his own pack to bring her back, or the one who finally learned how to love her right—too late.Not the father of her child.

And for now, I couldn’t be.

JACOB

I watched the whole thing unfold with a blank expression. I’d gotten good at that lately—masking emotion, keeping the truth of what I felt locked down tight behind the kind of smirk or shrug that made people think I didn’t care.

But inside?

I was reeling.

Elena had forgotten Derek King.

I hadn’t believed it at first. When she looked at him and said, “Do I know you?”—some part of me thought it had to be a joke. Some kind of petty game. A shot across the bow. Maybe she was angry, maybe she was playing him, maybe this was her version of revenge.

But it wasn’t a game.

It was real.

And for a flicker of a second, just before reality came crashing back down, I let myself feel something I’d never dared to hope for.

Maybe, I thought, this is my chance.

Maybe fate finally leveled the field.

Elena Hart.

The girl I’d been orbiting from the shadows, even when I pretended I wasn’t. The one who always seemed too far above me, too sharp to be impressed by my jokes or political maneuvering, too rooted in something real to be swayed by charm.

The one woman who made me feel like I didn’t have to wear a mask—just not in the way that felt safe.

And yeah, maybe I’d signed on to the Foundation scheme as a way to take a shot at Derek. Maybe I was just trying to show the world—and her—that I could build something of my own.

Maybe I’d gotten close to her because I wanted to see if I could shake him. If I could matter more.

But that wasn’t what this was anymore.

It hadn’t been for a long time.

I’d fallen in love with her somewhere between her storming out of a boardroom with fire in her eyes and showing up to a charity event in flats because she “didn’t feel like impressing anyone.” Somewhere between the way she fought for the wolves no one else cared about and the way she looked when she thought no one was watching—tired, brave, and still trying.

She was the first person who made me want to be… more.

Not just clever. Not just calculated.

Better.

And because I loved her, I couldn’t look at that kid—her kid—curled up against Derek like he was trying to keep his world from falling apart, and not feel something split open in my chest.

I didn’t like children. Never had. They were loud, unpredictable, always demanding some kind of honesty I didn’t know how to give.

But Aiden? Aiden was different.

He was sharp. Observant. Fierce in a way that reminded me more of a soldier than a kid. The way he watched people—like he was already preparing for who might hurt his mom next. Like he didn’t trust the world to stay still long enough for him to feel safe.

He’d looked at me before like he could see through every version of me I tried to present. And now he was breaking, quietly, in his father’s arms.

And I hated it.

I hated how small he looked. How still. Like he was trying not to hope.

So I stepped forward—not because I had anything clever to say. Not because I had some move to make.

But because something in me couldn’t stay back anymore.

So I stepped forward.

Derek looked up, surprised to see me move. I could see it in his eyes—he didn’t expect me to say anything. Maybe he thought I’d be gloating.

I wasn’t.

“I know this sucks,” I said, crouching down a bit so I could look Aiden in the eye. “But this doesn’t mean your dad won’t be around.”

Aiden turned toward me, sniffling. “It doesn’t?”

“No,” I said, glancing between him and Derek. “I have an idea.”