How was that possible? I’d held the vial in my hand—the perfume that mimicked a mate bond. Soren had found it in the room after Nym left. I’d convinced myself I’d been fooled, that what I’d felt that night had been nothing more than a chemical trick.
But here he was, and the scent was the same. Exactly the same.
Which meant...
My mind raced through the implications. If the perfume hadn’t been his, if his scent was natural, then—
“Ah, there you are,” my boss said, standing from his desk. “Come in, come in. Don’t be shy.”
Nym’s eyes swept the room, and when they landed on me, they widened. Color drained from his face. He froze in the doorway, and for a moment, I thought he might bolt.
I shot a look at Cael. In times like these it was important for me to know how he was going to react. I knew Nym was a dragon, and the friend that followed him in was some sort of fox. But just because Nym was a dragon didn't mean he was related to Cael. Was this a scam like many others?
Cael’s eyes widened briefly, so quick I almost missed it. Then his features cleared, and he put on a mask, hiding his emotion. “Well, this is a surprise,” he said.
“Hello,” Nym said. “I’m, um… Well, I already explained who I am in the phone call. This is my friend Preston.”
“Yes. And you want money.” Cael folded his arms over his chest.
“No. We need it. I never wanted to come to you and ask for this. It’s only out of desperation that I’m here now. I don't want to live on your dime. Preston and I have a business plan, but we’ve been rejected by every bank in town because we’re two omegas without an alpha to help.” A muscle twitched in Nym’s jaw.
“It’s a bullshit policy,” his friend Preston said. “I’ve been telling him for years to come here and get what was owed to him.”
“Is that right?” Cael’s eyes flashed as he looked at Preston.
“Yeah, you don’t get to go around fathering kids and then not taking care of them. Nym’s mom worked herself to the bone to provide for him.”
“That’s enough, Preston,” Nym said quietly, placing a hand on his friend’s arm. But his eyes never left Cael’s face. “I didn’t come here to make accusations or demands. I just... I need help. And you’re the only option I have left.”
I watched the exchange carefully, my instincts screaming at me that something was off. Not dangerous—not in the traditional sense—but wrong somehow. His attention kept drifting back to me, those beautiful eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite read. Confusion? Fear? Recognition, certainly.
“How old are you?” Cael asked, his tone deceptively casual.
“Twenty-two.”
“And your mother’s name?”
“Elara Thorne.”
Cael’s expression didn’t change, but I caught the slight tension in his shoulders. He knew that name. Which meant there was at least a possibility that Nym was telling the truth.
“What makes you think I’m your father?” Cael circled around his desk, approaching Nym like a predator sizing up prey.
Nym stood his ground, though I could see his pulse jumping in his throat. “My mother told me. She said you two had a brief... relationship. Twenty-two years ago. She never asked you for anything. She raised me on her own. But she passed away two years ago, and she made me promise that if I ever truly needed help, I would come to you.”
“What kind of business are the two of you looking to open?”
“A bakery,” Preston interjected. “Nym makes the best pastries you’ve ever tasted. We’ve done pop-ups at farmers’ markets, built up a following. We just need a physical location and proper equipment.”
“Fascinating.”
“It’s honest work,” Nym said, and there was steel in his voice now.
“It is indeed. Well. This had been a surprise. It’s exciting because I’m not usually surprised.”
Nym and Preston exchanged a glance.
“I never expected this to happen, Nym, but you are indeed my son.”
