Chapter 61
ELENA
The heat hit the moment we stepped off the plane.
That heavy, languid warmth that settled on your shoulders like a silk robe—luxurious at first, but stifling if you sat in it too long. I tilted my face toward the sun and let it bake away the tension that had clung to me since the Summit.
It was my first time on this particular island in Barbados. A rare human enclave that lived peacefully—and knowingly—with werewolves. I’d always wanted to see it.
The salt-laced breeze off the ocean tangled in my hair as I lounged poolside, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of my nose, a half-melted drink sweating beside me.
Aiden cannonballed into the shallow end, sending a splash halfway to the lounge chairs. “Mom! Did you see that?”
I pushed the sunglasses up. “You soaked half the patio.”
He grinned, unbothered. “That’s the point.”
“Just be sure you’re not getting any other guests wet, bud, this is a resort, not our own private pool,” I reminded him.
It felt good to see him like this. Relaxed. Carefree. Like a normal kid instead of the child of two Alphas who had already lived through more war and politics than most adults.
We needed this.
Not just a break from Moonstone or Derek or the increasingly tense atmosphere between the packs. But a break from the watchfulness. The waiting. The constant threat that lurked like a shadow behind every peaceful moment.
Here, under the sun, with the sound of gulls and laughter and the splash of pool water—I almost believed we were free of it all.
Almost.
I turned a page in my book just as a shadow passed over me.
“Fancy seeing you again, Princess.”
I looked up, blinking into the light.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Sun-streaked blond hair and a white tank that clung to muscles he absolutely knew he had.
My mind whirled through a mental rolodex, finally stopping the shuffle when I remembered meeting him at the Alpha Ball.
I sat up a little straighter, offering a polite nod. “Alpha Jacob.”
His grin widened. “Just Jacob while I’m off-duty.”
He wasn’t alone. A woman stood behind him—a goddess, really. Bronze skin, dark hair twisted into an intricate braid, her eyes sharp and curious. She said nothing, but her hand rested lightly on Jacob’s forearm in that easy, practiced way that said mine.
“Enjoying the sun?” he asked.
“Trying to.” I smiled, cool and measured.
“Well, if you’re looking for dinner recommendations, we found a great seafood spot right on the bay—private booths, strong drinks, no paparazzi.”
I raised a brow. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jacob winked, then let the silence stretch a beat too long before nodding and walking away, his arm still claimed by the beautiful stranger.
“Don’t like him,” Aiden muttered, climbing out of the pool with a splash.
I laughed and handed him a towel. “Why not?”
“He’s fake,” he said, squinting after Jacob. “Like… too many teeth when he smiles. He’s up to something.”
I chuckled and shook my head ruefully. “Remind me never to play poker with you.”
Aiden looked longingly at the human children that were splashing happily in the other end of the pool. He longed to play with them, but I had told him not to—he tended to horse around pretty hard and I didn’t him using his superior werewolf strength to inadvertently hurt a human child.
I sighed, and started packing up our various pool accoutrements.
“Need a hand?” said a friendly voice.
I looked up to see an older gentleman—werewolf by the smell of him—smiling down at me. He had a pockmarked, scarred face, and I immediately pinned him for a Gamma or some other high-ranking warrior who had seen more than one battle in his day.
“No thanks,” I said, giving him a small smile. “I’ve got it.”
He looked down at Aiden who was slipping on his flip flops, still watching the kids at the other end of the pool.
He looked about to say something, but stepped back respectfully, nodding to me before moving on.
We headed back to the room after lunch, but the relaxed haze was already starting to fade. I called Mason once Aiden was distracted with the gaming system that came with our room.
He picked up on the second ring.
“Elena.”
“Hi,” I said. “How goes it on the homefront?”
“It goes,” he said, sighing heavily. “You having good weather?”
“We are,” I assured him, stepping onto our patio that led from our room. It overlooked a large green lawn that was framed in by palm trees and birds of paradise. I wasn’t quite sure how to ask my next question, so I just dove right in.
“Have you seen Erin lately?”
There was a pause. “No. Why?”
“I’m just worried about the two of you,” I sighed. “Have you talked about… what’s next for you both?”
He sighed unhappily. Didn’t answer.
“She’s safe, though?” I pushed. “She and Carly and Maggie?”
“As safe as he can be,” he grumbled. “Living out there where she does.”
“Have you gone to see her?”
“She told me not to.”
“And you actually listen to her? I’m impressed.”
That actually drew a laugh.
“You two should talk,” I said, sobering somewhat. “I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you, too.”
I could hear Mason breathing. “I’ll try to check in,” he finally said. “But things are still tense at home.”
“I know. Just—be careful.”
I disconnected with Mason just as there was a soft knock at the patio gate. I looked up.
The older man from the pool stood there, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in an easy, island-appropriate linen shirt and loose slacks. His silver-streaked hair and weathered features made him look like someone’s favorite uncle—or a professor who’d traded his lecture hall for a boat.
“Elena?” he said, voice rich and polite. “Sorry to intrude. When I saw you earlier, I just… I thought that was you. But I didn’t want to bother you.”
I hesitated, but stepped forward. “Do I know you?”
“No, but I know of you,” he said warmly. “Name’s Pierce. Here with family. We’re staying just a few doors down. Hope I’m not overstepping.”
There was something in his smile. Something too smooth.
Still, I kept my tone neutral. “It’s fine. My son and I are having a nice time.”
He glanced toward the open door, where Aiden’s game controller clicks echoed. “Lucky kid.”
“Can I help you with something?”
“Actually, just wanted to say hello. I heard there were a few shifters staying at the resort and figured I’d introduce myself. Always nice to see familiar kinds of folks in unfamiliar places.”
I nodded. Polite. Distant.
Pierce smiled. “If you and your son are looking for something to do, we’re heading to a nearby waterpark tomorrow. Just a human place—slides, wave pool, that kind of thing. My grandson’s dying for a playmate his age. No pressure, of course. Just thought I’d extend the offer.”
I didn’t answer immediately.
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
He smiled wider. “You do that.”
After he left, I sat down, heart ticking a little faster than I liked.
Aiden padded outside. “Who was that?”
“Just someone staying nearby.”
“He looked nice.”
He looked nice. That didn’t mean anything.
Still, the idea of the waterpark lingered. Aiden had been getting restless. And I couldn’t keep him cooped up in the hotel forever.
“How would you feel,” I started, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “About heading to a waterpark tomorrow?”
He beamed. Answer enough.
The next day was bright and clear. The resort shuttle dropped us off at the waterpark around ten. We hadn’t seen any sign of Pierce or his family, though there were a few werewolf families here and there. Mostly though, the place was crawling with humans.
That didn’t stop Aiden from having the time of his life.
He ran straight to the big water slide, climbed the tower like a squirrel on espresso, and shouted “Watch me!” before hurtling down.
By the third go-round, I started to relax.
I stretched out on a lounge chair near the kiddie pool, a bottle of water sweating in my hand. A parenting magazine sat open on my lap, some speculative piece about pack alliances and Luna responsibilities.
I rolled my eyes. Of course, they’d included a picture of me and Derek from the Summit.
I was halfway into the article when I looked up.
Aiden had just run around to the waterslide steps to head back up for another go.
He waved.
I smiled, watching the top of the slide for his bright green shorts, waiting for him to get to the top for his turn.
I waited. And waited.
Another child who had been right behind him got up to the top and went down, but there was still no sign of him. My heart started to beat. I stood from my lounge chair, the magazine gripped in my fingers.
Aiden had been there—and then he wasn’t.
He never came down.
My blood ran cold.
I stood, the magazine dropping unnoticed to the concrete.
“Aiden?”
No answer.
I jogged toward the slide, heart pounding.
No splash. No laughter. No trace.
Just a gap in the crowd.
He was gone.
