Chapter 23

ELENA

There was terrible art on the walls—beige and pastel expressionist reproductions that were meant to soothe. I did not find them soothing. I sat stiffly in the reclining chair, the soft hum of the lights above us barely registering in my ears.

Another session. Another attempt to unlock the past that felt just out of reach. The doctor’s voice was calm and steady, guiding me through hypnosis, pulling at the frayed edges of my memories.

A day in the woods with my brother when we were still kids. Mason daring me to step past the tree line—the edge of our pack territory. I’d smirked at him and dashed off, running far past where he’d expected me to go.

Another memory, coming on faster than the one before it.

Flashes of light. A warm hand clasping mine. Laughter carried by the wind. And… Derek. His voice, low and teasing. His touch, warm and reassuring. The way my heart had once felt safe with him.

My breathing hitched, my fingers twitching against the armrest.

But before I could grasp more, the images scattered like autumn leaves in the wind. My chest ached from the loss, my mind caught between yearning and frustration.

I forced myself to focus as I left the treatment room, heading toward the nurse’s station where I knew Aiden would be waiting. But the moment I turned the corner, my heart nearly stopped.

Derek stood there, his towering presence impossible to ignore. And beside him, grinning up with childlike wonder, was Aiden. My Aiden. Standing there beside Derek as if that’s where he belonged. Where he’d always belonged.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Derek without preamble.

He looked at me in surprise, then down at Aiden.

“Is this your child?” he asked, without answering me. “I saw you both at the amphitheater, but then—”

“Aiden, come here,” I said, my voice as serious as a heart attack.

Aiden hesitated. “Mom?”

I watched him, standing there next to his father, a picture-perfect replica. A lump formed in my throat, and before I could repeat myself, Aiden beamed up at Derek and blurted out, “Look! I found myself a dad! Isn’t he handsome?”

The air turned thick.

Derek scoffed, his expression turning to stone. “You can’t just pick a dad like a toy off a shelf, child,” he said, his voice tight. “I’m not your father.”

Aiden flinched, his small body stiffening against Derek’s side. My chest tightened at the sight of his lower lip quivering.

“Enough,” I said, stepping forward. My arms circled Aiden, pulling him away from Derek’s side. “Alpha Derek is right,” I said, keeping my voice gentle but firm. “He’s not your father.”

Aiden looked up at me, uncertainty knitting his small brows. “But I—”

“No buts, Aiden.” I gave him a quick squeeze. “And you shouldn’t go around talking to strangers.” My gaze flicked up to Derek, a warning in my eyes. “Especially not him.”

Derek stiffened. Whatever was behind his expression was unreadable, but it didn’t matter. I turned away, determined to end this encounter.

Aiden was glum in the car ride home, staring out the window, his usual bubbly personality muted and forlorn. When I tried talking to him, engaging him in conversation—even about some of his favorite things, like baseball or dinosaurs—he shut me down, telling me he didn’t want to talk.

When we got back to the packhouse, he went quietly to a corner and began to draw.

Mason, unused to this subdued version of his nephew, gave me a look not five minutes after we’d walked through the door.

“What’s his deal?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

I slumped into a nearby chair, sighing heavily. “We ran into Derek at the doctor’s office,” I said. “Aiden expressed interest in Derek being his father.”

Mason’s expression changed dramatically, his eyebrows rising to the sky. He seemed to choose his next words carefully. “And…how did that go over?”

“Like a lead balloon,” I said, and Mason scrunched his face. Hurting for his nephew. And, probably, for me. Aiden looked over his shoulder at his uncle, his eyes sad as a puppy dog.

Mason’s sympathy quickly turned to fury. Like any Alpha, he was fiercely protective of his pack. “As soon as the Alpha Ball is over,” he hissed, “you don’t have to have any contact with that man. I’ll see to it myself.”

Aiden, quiet as a mouse, had stalked up to Mason’s elbow and looked beseechingly up at his uncle. “What if I want to see him?” Aiden asked.

Mason looked like he was about to go on a furious rant, but I held up my hand, stilling him.

Aiden turned his attention to me. “Is he really not my dad? I’m a Moonstone prince. Don’t I get to pick?”

I was about to tell him that that’s not at all how life worked when a voice chimed in from the doorway, smooth and teasing.

“You wound me, Aiden.”

Logan. He stepped into the room feigning hurt as he placed a hand over his heart. “Don’t you think I treat you well? Why would you need a dad when you’ve got me?”

Aiden’s face melted into a smile.

“How’d the appointment go?” Logan asked me, walking over to Aiden to ruffle his hair.

“Okay,” I said, thinking about those memories that seemed to always be just beyond my reach.

“Just okay?” he said kindly.

I shrugged.

Mason, sensing the tenor of the room turning melancholy again, wasted no time steering the conversation elsewhere. “Logan,” he said. “Why don’t you take Elena shopping for a dress for the Alpha Ball tomorrow? A little retail therapy for the whole crew.”

I shot Mason a look, but Aiden clapped his hands together excitedly. “Can I come too?”

I sighed. “Sure sweetheart,” I said, hoping he couldn’t hear the reluctance in my voice. “You can come, too.

---

The mall was bright and bustling, filled with happy shoppers and sellers hocking their wares, each storefront trying to outdo the one next to it.

We walked into the high-end dress boutique and were met by a salesgirl with an enormous smile.

“Alpha Logan!” she said, obviously excited to see him. Logan introduced me, explaining that the shopgirl, Vanessa, was from Blackwood—Logan’s family’s pack. She offered to take good care of me while Logan took Aiden off to get ice cream.

“Anything you need,” she said deferentially, “don’t hesitate to ask.”

I gave her a tight smile and started browsing through the racks of elegant gowns. When I didn’t find any that I liked right away, Vanessa put her finger to her chin and gave me an appraising look.

“Wait right here,” she said. “I have a few dresses in the back that I want you to try.”

I looked over the accessory selection for a few minutes and then made my way back to the dressing room, waiting to see what Vanessa brought out. I was having trouble focusing on fashion.

My mind was elsewhere—still tangled in the earlier encounter. Derek had been so quick to dismiss Aiden. Why had that bothered me? I should be relieved.

He didn’t suspect anything. I could keep my secret. So why did my chest feel tight?

Just then, Vanessa and another attendant came out of the back, beaming. They had brought out several of the finest gowns, draping them over their arms like precious silk—you could see the quality just by looking.

“What do you think of this?” Vanessa said, watching me closely to gauge my reaction to the dress.

I reached out and ran my fingers over the smooth fabric, willing myself to focus.

That’s when I heard it. A voice. Sharp and familiar.

And hated.

“She has somehow managed to subvert me at every step. But mark my words. I’m not going to let her get away with it.

I froze, my fingers clenching into the sumptuous fabric.

Cassandra.