He flinched, then pursed his lips stoically. When he spoke again his voice was softer. "You should've told me. The second you knew."
"Like you ever wanted a family," I shot back. "Like you’d have stuck around if I had."
His hands clenched. I could see the bones, white and sharp under the skin. "That’s not fair."
I laughed. It sounded wrong, brittle. "Fair’s got nothing to do with it. I was scared because you said we were mates, but I still don’t feel it because of my stupid mother."
He stared me down. It wasn’t a threat, but I felt it all the same, a pressure, an expectation, a demand to answer for every decision I’d ever made.
The words tumbled out, unsteady and fast. "I spent nine years making up stories for that boy. Why his father wasn’t around. Why he never got birthday cards, or a phone call, or anything. I had to pick a name for you out of thin air because I didn’t even remember the real one. You think I liked that? You think I wanted to raise him alone? I tried to search for the man I barely remembered. But I wouldn’t have found you because you were asleep."
We stared at each other, the silence pounding with all the things neither of us had ever said. A headache bloomed behind my eyes, the kind that promised to last for days.
His features softened and reached over and covered my hand. "So, what now? Were you just going to keep pretending I don’t exist? Keep him hidden away, and what, hope he never figures it out?"
I shook my head, miserable. "I was going to tell you," I said. "I swore to myself that I would, once I sorted out the mess with my mom. And I tried to make myself tell you before then. But every time I tried, I just…" My hands balled into fists. "I chickened out. Every time. Because I didn’t want you to hate me or reject Bryce."
His face softened, but only a bit. He was still pretty pissed, and I couldn't blame him, not really. "I don’t hate you. And I wouldneverreject my son," he said, finally. "But I need time."
I nodded. Then I gathered my things and headed home. I didn’t know what would happen tomorrow. I didn’t know if Zaden would show up at my door or disappear for another decade.
All I knew was that the truth was out, and it would never fit back into the box I’d kept it in.
Chapter 17
Zaden
Nathan’s housesat at the bottom of a gravel drive, hugged on two sides by trees and the third side by Erin's Inn. The place looked unchanged from when I’d visited years ago to deliver a keg. I parked my bike by the mailbox and killed the engine.
The whole walk up the path, my dragon thrashed under my skin, pushing me to go to Krystal, who lived nearby, deeper on the pack land. A few centuries of being the biggest, baddest thing in the room, and here I was, sweating at the front door.
I knocked, and Nathan answered faster than I’d expected, as if he’d been waiting for me. He wore a faded Rolling Stones T-shirt. His salt-and-pepper hair was damp, like he’d just showered off the day, but his eyes were clear and wolf-sharp.
He sized me up from boots to brow, reading every twitch. "Zaden," he said.
"Nathan." I tried to be casual, but my throat rebelled. "Got a minute?"
He hesitated, then stepped aside. "Come in."
The walls were busy with family photos, decades of pack gatherings, a parade of wolves and kids and the occasional blurry snapshot of Nathan in his police uniform from before he retired. At least half the frames included Bryce, who mugged for the camera. The living room held a battered couch, a recliner leaking stuffing, and a low coffee table with a chessboard set up and half-played.
Nathan nodded at the couch. "Sit."
I did, perching on the edge like I might have to bolt. Nathan sat opposite me in the recliner.
We waited, the only sound was the faint drip of a faucet somewhere in the house.
"Krystal not here?" I asked.
He shook his head. "She's got a shift at the bar, but you would know that. Bryce is out with Elle somewhere in the woods."
Yeah, I knew she was working. I don’t even know why I asked.
He studied me, his gaze refusing to blink. "You didn’t come here for pleasantries."
I shrugged, the motion stiff. "Figured we should talk. Man to man."
He nodded. "I’ve been expecting you. Krystal told me everything last night. Did you come to help me bury her mother for putting that spell in her?"
