"Then why are you here?"
"Because I've spent over a decade trying to find you. Because I never stopped looking. Because when I saw your name on that registrant list, I dropped everything and came here to make sure Vernon's people didn't drag you back to hell."
Dalvin laughed. The sound was harsh, brittle, completely devoid of humor. "Twelve years. You've been looking for twelve years."
"Yes."
"Then where were you?" The question exploded out of him, all the rage and hurt he'd been containing finally breaking free. "Where were you when they shipped me off to that finishing school? Where were you when my father sold me to Vernon like livestock? Where were you on my wedding night, when I learned exactly what kind of man I'd been bonded to?"
"Dalvin—"
"You moved on!" His voice cracked again, tears streaming down his face now, shaking with rage and grief. "You graduated and you went to college and you built your precious forge and you lived your life, and I was being broken apart piece by piece by a man who enjoyed it. Who smiled while he did it. Who made me thank him afterward."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak. The images his words painted were too vivid, too horrific, too close to the suspicions I'd carried for years without confirmation.
"I looked for you," I said. My voice came out hoarse, stripped raw by the weight of his pain. "After I turned twenty-one, after I had money of my own, I hired investigators. I tried to find where they'd sent you. I tracked down the finishing school, but you were already gone. Already bonded. Vernon had you locked down so tight that I couldn't find a single person who would talk to me about you."
"So you gave up."
"I never gave up. I kept files. Collected every scrap of information I could find. Every public appearance, every photograph, every rumor. I watched Vernon for years, looking for an opening, looking for a way to get to you." The words poured out of me now, years of silence finally breaking. "I hired three different private investigators over the years. The first one took my money and disappeared. The second one returned everything I'd paid him and told me to stop looking, that therewere people who would hurt me if I kept digging. The third one actually got close. Found a former housekeeper who was willing to talk. Three days later, she moved out of state and changed her phone number. Vernon's people got to her first."
Dalvin's expression flickered. Uncertainty cutting through the rage.
"I'm not making excuses," I continued. "I should have tried harder. Should have found another way. But I want you to understand that I didn't just forget about you. I didn't move on and build a happy life while you suffered. Every year that passed without finding you was a failure. Every rumor I couldn't confirm, every lead that went nowhere, every door that closed in my face. I carried all of it."
"And yet." Dalvin spread his arms wide, a gesture that encompassed his torn clothes, his bleeding feet, his shattered composure. "Here I am. Twelve years later. Running for my life while you watched from a distance."
"I didn't know how to reach you. Vernon's security was—"
"Excuses." The word cut through my explanation like a blade. "You had resources. You had connections. You had all those years to figure it out, and instead you just... watched. Like I was a painting in a gallery. Like my suffering was interesting but not interesting enough to actually do anything about."
The accusation hung between us, heavy and poisonous. I wanted to defend myself. Wanted to explain all the ways I'd tried, all the doors that had closed in my face, all the legal barriers that had stopped me from charging into Vernon's life and taking Dalvin back by force.
But none of that mattered. Not to him. Not now.
From somewhere in the forest, maybe a quarter mile away, a sound drifted through the trees. An omega's voice, high and startled, followed by a deeper alpha rumble. Then laughter. Genuine, surprised, delighted laughter.
Theo. I recognized the brightness of the sound from the ceremony, from the omega who had stood beside Dalvin with his easy smile and his infectious optimism.
He'd been caught. And from the sound of it, he was happy about it.
Dalvin heard it too. His head turned toward the sound, and I watched his expression shift. Jealousy tightened his jaw. Grief softened his eyes. The simple joy he couldn't let himself feel, happening to someone else.
"At least someone's getting their fairy tale," he said quietly.
"You could have one too."
"No." He turned back to face me, and the fire had burned out of his eyes, leaving only ash. "I can't. Not with you. The scandal would destroy any custody case I might build. Vernon's lawyers would use our history to paint me as unstable, deviant. They'd take Eli, and everything I've sacrificed would mean nothing."
Eli. The name landed in my chest and stayed there, pulsing with questions I didn't have the right to ask.
"Your son," I said.
Dalvin's face went blank. Closed. A door slamming shut behind his eyes. "You know about him."
"I know he exists. I know you've hidden him somewhere safe. I didn't try to find out where, because if I could find him, so could Vernon."
For a long moment, Dalvin just stared at me. The silence stretched taut between us, filled with all the words we couldn't say, all the years we'd lost, all the damage that couldn't be undone.
