“You're my dad.” Nate's voice broke. “Worrying about you is part of the job description. And I'd rather worry about the truth than be blindsided by it later.”
Silence stretched between us. The coffee shop hummed with quiet activity, other customers lost in their own conversations, oblivious to the father and son working through something painful at a corner table.
“You're right,” I said finally. “No more secrets. Not about this. Not about anything that could hurt us. I promise.”
Nate studied me for a long moment. Searching for something in my face. Then, slowly, he nodded.
“Okay.” He let out a breath. “Okay. But Dad, if you ever pull something like this again?—”
“You have full permission to yell at me in front of the entire pack.”
A surprised laugh escaped him. “I'm holding you to that.”
“I'd expect nothing less.” I reached across the table, and this time when I squeezed his hand, he squeezed back. “I love you, Nate. Even when I'm being a stubborn idiot.”
“Especially when you're being a stubborn idiot.” His smile was watery but real. “It's genetic. Mom always said so.”
“Your mother was rarely wrong about anything.”
“I know.” Nate's thumb traced circles on the back of my hand. The same gesture Anna used to make. “She'd be proud of you, you know. The magic, the fighting, the whole protective dad thing even when it drives me crazy.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.” He pulled his hand back, reached for his coffee. “Now. Tell me everything. From the beginning. What did the moon say when it spoke to you?”
So I told him. All of it. The clearing, the corrupted wolves, Alaric going down and me throwing myself in front of him. The moon's voice in my head, ancient and certain, calling me child of the old blood. The power erupting from my hands like liquid silver, burning through corruption, fixing the ward stone.
Nate listened with an intensity that reminded me he wasn't just my son anymore. He was a fellow practitioner. Someone who understood magic from the inside out.
“The moon spoke to you,” he said when I finished. “Actually spoke. That's... Dad, that's significant. Gideon's been teaching me about the old ways, and direct communication from the moon is rare. Like, really rare.”
“What does it mean?”
“I don't know yet. But we'll figure it out.” His smile was fierce now. Determined. “Together. No more going it alone, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Good.” Nate's fingers traced patterns on the table again, unconscious geometry that looked suspiciously like ward marks. “What about you? How are you handling the whole 'surprise, you're magic' revelation?”
“Still processing,” I said. “Gideon's been helping me understand the basics. But it's like learning a new language while someone's actively trying to kill you with it.”
“Welcome to Hollow Pines. Where nothing's easy and everything wants to eat you.” Nate's smile was wry. “But seriously, Dad. You're doing better than you think. Evan told me what happened in the clearing. Said you took down eight corrupted wolves and triggered a ward burst powerful enough to light up half the eastern boundary.”
“And nearly died doing it.”
“But you didn't. You survived. You're here.” He reached across the table, squeezed my hand briefly. “And now you've got magic that could actually help protect this place. Help protect the pack. That's not nothing.”
The bell over the door chimed. I looked up automatically, some new instinct making me track movement, and saw Rafe enter. He moved with that easy confidence, all smiles and casual charm as he ordered coffee from Martha.
“You okay?” Nate asked quietly.
“Yeah. Just—” I gestured vaguely toward Rafe. “Something about him feels off.”
“Evan thinks so too. Says Rafe's been helpful but there's something underneath that doesn't add up.” Nate's voice dropped. “Daniel trusts him though.”
“What do you mean?”
“The attack on you wasn't random, Dad. Someone knew exactly where you'd be, exactly when the wards would be weakest. And Rafe's the only one who wasn't accounted for during that window.” Nate's jaw tightened.
