Without waiting for a response, Dawson pads across the kitchen floor and approaches me, peeking over my shoulder as he simultaneously lifts my hand. The heat of his touch is enough to set me alight with the awareness surging through me. He discovers that I have raw egg dripping from my fingers and chuckles.
“Why don’t you get that cleaned up?” he suggests calmly as he steps to the kitchen counter and picks out a new egg from the basket. “I’ll finish this up. How does Gio like his eggs?”
Blinking disbelievingly at Dawson, who casually turns the stove on, I mumble, “Sunny side. And I like mine—”
“Over-hard,” Dawson cuts in, throwing me a wink over his shoulder. “I know.”
I shake my head dubiously, not willing to believe that Dawson remembered a casual passing conversation we had in the library six years ago. It was a silly thing, talking about our likes and dislikes, all because Dawson came in fuming because the kitchen staff overcooked his steak that afternoon. But being relieved from kitchen duties allows me to wash up and check on Gio, who’s just woken up, and I don’t need to dwell on the smaller details. The first thing Gio asks me is if Dawson is still around—referring to him as the “superhero dude.”
Giggling lightly, I feel a sense of deep regret. Gio will never know that the man he looks up to is his father, but it’s probably for the best.
“Yes, baby,” I reply coolly as I help Gio get out of bed. “The superhero dude is in our kitchen, making eggs for breakfast.”
“Breakfast?!” Gio’s eyes light up, and he bolts out of the room before I can remind him to brush his teeth.
I make no protest. He’s usually not so enthusiastic about breakfast. For a werewolf pup, he hasn’t always had the biggest appetite, like one might expect. I know it has to do with being the child of an alpha; he’s supposed to grow a progressively bigger appetite as he gets older.
When I return to the kitchen, Dawson has already spread the table with the breakfast items, and Gio’s at his seat, kicking his feet in anticipation as Dawson heaps his sunny-side up egg onto his plate.
“There ya go, Champion!” Dawson chimes as he fluffs Gio’s unruly black waves at the top of his head.
“Thank you!” Gio beams before digging right into his meal.
A pang of guilt grips my chest as Dawson goes back to the stove to retrieve my egg. Deep down, I know that keeping this secret from both of them is going to backfire eventually, but I just can’t risk facing the consequences of revealing the truth right now.
I still have a hard time trusting Dawson when he has the power to hurt me again. I’ll never recover from the heartbreak if he rejects his own son.
But when Dawson returns to the table and takes his seat, the scene is too domestic for my liking, especially since this is exactly how I pictured our lives would be, even long before that fateful night in the library. While he and Gio pick up where they left off last night, I can’t help but wonder if things could be different this time.
No.
I can’t risk breaking a heart I spent years patching up. The torturous rejection I faced was enough to have me considering ending it all, and I’d only stayed alive for my child’s sake. If Dawson rejects him, I’ll be torn, with no way to escape the deadly clutches of a life where both my son and I have been shunned.
So, it comes as a relief when Rissa comes by to pick Gio up for the day. Another relief is that Dawson had excused himself to use the bathroom, so Rissa has no idea that one of the alphas is in my cottage after spending the night.
I can only hope that Gio doesn’t say anything while he spends the day with her. I kiss him on the cheek before he runs off down the path and thank Rissa for offering to take him to the daycare center so I can fulfill my volunteer duties in the library.
“Have an awesome day, Yvonne!” Rissa says as she turns to leave.
As I watch her chase Gio toward the village, I realize that I have opened myself up to trusting some of the pack members who’ve been nothing but kind to me. Rissa is one of them, along with Aurora, who’ve taken it upon themselves to ensure our comfort while we’re back in Girdwood. I’ve surrendered enough to let them take turns taking Gio to daycare and back, and that must count for something.
Is that enough reason to start trusting Dawson?
Hell no!
I can’t risk suffering that heartbreak all over again. I just wish I didn’t have to be back, but I know the walls I’ve built will suffice to keep me protected.
What remains unsettling is that Dawson is still in the cottage, and we’re alone now that Gio has left for the day. I’ll have to muster up the courage to tell him to leave, and fight my own baser urges that have my body fawning over him like the helpless omega that I’ve fought hard not to be anymore. This restless heat will be my undoing, and I have to ensure that he leaves.
Besides, I need to get ready for the day ahead.
I walk up to the bathroom door, about to knock, when I hear the gush of water pattering against the tiles in the shower stall.
“You can’t be serious…” I mutter irritably under my breath, proceeding with an urgent knock on the door.
“Dawson! What are you doing in there?!” I call out at the top of my lungs, hoping my voice can be heard over the shower spray.
“I’m taking a shower! I’ve healed fully, and I—”
