The words landed like a slap. I sat with them. Let them sting. Because he was right, and the fact that I hadn't heard the edge in my own voice until he pointed it out was exactly the kind of thing I needed to hear.
"You're right," I said. "I'm sorry."
He watched me for a long moment. Measuring. Then some of the tension left his shoulders.
I tightened my grip on his hand. "He's not broken. He's a three-year-old who learned to protect himself in the only way he could."
"Min-ho."
"I'm not going to expect him to love me," I said. "I'm not going to push myself into his life and demand affection he isn't ready to give. I'm going to be patient. I'm going to be consistent. I'm going to show him, day after day, that I'm safe. That my voice doesn't mean pain. That my presence doesn't mean fear." I brought his hand to my lips and kissed his knuckles. "However long it takes. Whatever he needs. I'll learn."
Dalvin went quiet. Something shifted in the bond between us, some final wall crumbling, some last defense giving way.
"I want you to meet him," he said. "Before the trial period ends. Before you accept the bond officially. I need you to see what you're signing up for."
"Okay."
"I'll call Rosa. She can bring him here."
"Okay."
He stared at me for another moment, searching for something in my expression. Whatever he found must have satisfied him, because he nodded slowly and reached for his phone.
The call to Rosa was brief. She would arrive that afternoon with Eli. There was a family room on the second floor of the facility, Dalvin explained, designed for situations exactly like this. Neutral ground. Safe space.
After he hung up, Dalvin spent the next hour preparing me.
"Don't approach him directly. Let him come to you, if he wants. Keep your voice low and soft. No sudden movements. No direct eye contact until he initiates it." He ticked off each instruction with quiet intensity. "Don't crouch down to his level. For Eli, an alpha getting on his level means an alpha getting in his face. Stay standing or sitting. Let him control the physical space."
I nodded, committing each instruction to memory. This was like learning a new technique at the forge. Every material had its own requirements, its own tolerances. Eli was no different.
"What does he like?" I asked. "What makes him feel safe?"
Dalvin's expression softened. "His stuffed dinosaur. A purple T-rex named Chompers. He doesn't go anywhere without it. And he loves building blocks. Could spend hours stacking them and knocking them down."
"Purple T-rex named Chompers. Got it."
"Today is just about showing him you're not a threat. That's enough for a first meeting."
"That's enough," I agreed.
The afternoon arrived faster than I expected. Rosa would be here in two hours.
The family room was designed to be welcoming. Soft carpet, child-sized furniture, toys arranged in colorful bins along the walls. A large window let in afternoon light, and a couch sat against the far wall, big enough for adults but low enough to feel accessible.
Dalvin and I were already seated when Rosa arrived.
She was a compact woman in her fifties, with iron-gray hair and eyes that assessed me with sharp intelligence. Behind her, half-hidden by her legs, I caught a glimpse of dark curls and a small hand clutching purple plush.
"Dalvin." Rosa's voice was brisk, but warmth softened the edges. "You look better."
"I feel better." Dalvin rose and pulled her into a hug. "Thank you for everything."
Rosa's gaze shifted to me. "You're the alpha."
"Min-ho Irvin."
"I know who you are. Dalvin talked about you, in the beginning. Before he learned not to mention the past aroundVernon." She studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Don't make me regret this."
