Archive of Our Own

It was night, and a cold that pierced to the bone enveloped the forest. The kind of cold that even the hardiest wolves sought shelter from. But Mrs.Kane had never feared the cold or the darkness. Still, that night something drove her beyond any instinct: an overwhelming need to clear her mind.

In her wolf form, she ran like a flash among the trees. She leapt over fallen trunks, crossed frozen streams, and thick underbrush, she was far, very far from civilization. The forest was her territory, her sanctuary. Until her nose caught a scent.

Blood.

She didn’t know what came over her, but her paws began moving on their own, guided by instinct. They led her to a cave hidden among the brush; the scent was suffocating: blood and decay.

At first, she thought it was a dead animal, but upon entering, she froze.

In front of her slept a pack of werewolves. Not like her, these were wild, stripped of humanity, their bodies covered in scars, their snouts stained with dried blood. They slept like beasts, not thinking beings, the stench was unbearable.

And the worst part wasn’t them.

Next to the pack, piled up like trash, were bodies: wild animals, domestic… and humans.

Mrs.Kane felt a pang in her stomach. Poor creatures.

She was going to leave.

She swore she would.

She swore.

But her nose detected something else. A faint scent, almost imperceptible.

Life.

She approached the pile cautiously, senses sharp. Among the corpses, she heard a weak whimper, a sigh lost in death, she pushed some remains aside with her paws, and then she saw it.

A child.

Small, filthy, covered in wounds and dried blood. His body trembled, his breathing barely audible, he could not have been more than five or six years old.

Chancy’s heart caught in her throat. She thought of her children, Liam, Lily, and especially Mason, her little rascal. The boy was the same age, her maternal instinct roared, stronger than any rule or danger.

Without thinking, she took him carefully in her jaws and carried him out.

That night, she didn’t look back.

Chaos erupted when she arrived home. Mrs.Kane burst into the cabin, snow and desperation clinging to her, the boy half conscious in her arms.

Her children ran to help, confused. No one slept that night.

The next day, when the boy woke, they discovered a severe head injury, which explained his confusion and amnesia. He barely spoke, stammering broken fragments of memories.

—Kieran… I think… that’s what they called me…—

He whispered one night, his voice in shreds.

That was the only name they could get from him. Maybe it was real, maybe not. Since then, they called him Kieran.

For the first days, he was a bundle of fear and silence. He clung to the sheets like they were a shield, he cried at any noise, barely ate.

Mrs.Kane did her best to soothe him: singing, holding him, speaking with the same tenderness she once used to console her own children.

She searched for answers, she visited villages, asked about missing children.

Nothing, no one.

She feared for him: his small body began to weaken, she didn’t know how to feed him without frightening him further.

One afternoon, returning exhausted from one of her searches, she was greeted by the usual shouts of her children.

—Mommm!—

Lily shrieked.

—Mom, Mason pushed me again!—

Liam complained.

But she didn’t respond. Something in the air made her skin crawl. She ran upstairs, she found her husband, Roger, exiting the boy’s room with a look of disgust.

—What’s going on?—

She asked sharply.

Roger avoided her gaze. She gently pushed him aside and entered the room. Kieran sat on the bed, pale, trembling. And then she saw it: fangs. Not wolf fangs. Vampire fangs.

Roger spoke first, his voice heavy with revulsion.

—Chancy… you brought a damned vampire home! That explains why he hasn’t eaten.—

The boy shrank back, sobbing, not understanding anything.

Mrs.Kane turned to her husband, fury restrained.

—How can you speak to a child like that? A child, Roger!—

—He’s a vampire!—

He shouted.

—When you’re not looking, he’ll bite. We have to leave him in the forest before…—

—You’re crazy! He’s scared! Did you see him? Did you hear him cry? Do you think he could hurt anyone? He doesn’t even know what he is.—

Chancy understood then: his body rejected human food, not knowing why. He didn’t understand what he was, but his instinct did.

—And if he hurts our children?—

Roger insisted.

She took a deep breath, held the little boy in her arms, and spoke with a calm that froze the air.

—This isn’t a request. He will stay here. It’s not a mother’s plea or a wife’s wish. It’s an order.—

Roger looked at her as if he didn’t recognize her but said nothing.

She stepped closer.

—And if you raise your voice at him again, or look at him like that… you won’t want to remember what I’m like when I get angry.—

Roger growled and walked away without replying.

Kieran trembled in her arms.

—I’m scared…—

He murmured.

Mrs.Kane smiled gently, wiping away his tears.

—Shh… don’t cry, don’t be afraid.—

The boy touched his fangs with his fingers.

—Am I… something bad?—

Chancy shook her head softly. Deep down, she didn’t like vampires; stories said theirs and hers should never mix. But this little one wasn’t a monster, he was just a frightened, hungry child.

—No, you’re not.—

—But the man said…—

—It doesn’t matter what he says. Look—

She showed her own fangs, more wolf like than anything.

—I have these too, am I bad?—

Kieran watched and shook his head quickly.

—Then you’re not either. Now… are you hungry?—

The boy hesitated, unsure how to answer. He felt an emptiness in his stomach but didn’t know what it meant.

—All right.—

She smiled.

—Let’s eat.—

She went downstairs with him in her arms. Her children were still causing chaos with pillows and shouts.

—Liam, Lily, come here—

She called.

The little ones ran to her immediately.

—Do you want to help Mommy?—

—I saw some rabbits near the house. Can you catch them for me?—

Their eyes lit up.

—Of course, Mom!—

While they ran into the forest, Chancy placed Kieran on the couch. She stopped Mason, who tried to follow them.

—You stay here—

She sat him beside the little vampire.

—But Mommm…—

—None of that. Keep him company, but no embarrassing stories about your siblings.—

Mason crossed his arms, resigned.

—Then I’ll watch TV or talk about something else. And no sports.—

Mason sighed theatrically. Kieran, amidst restrained laughter, began to relax.

Hours later, Liam and Lily returned triumphantly with two rabbits each. Dinner was quickly prepared. Roger didn’t come down, but Chancy didn’t care anymore.

While everyone ate, she placed Kieran in her husband’s empty chair and handed him a glass. Inside, warm blood.

The boy looked at it with suspicion.

—Do I have to drink this?—

Liam spoke naturally.

—Dad says vampires drink blood and eat wolves… but you don’t seem bad.—

Lily smiled and touched his cheek.

—Yes, you seem… cute.—

Mason threw a piece of vegetable at his sister; quickly, Lily stopped pinching Kieran’s cheek.

—Don’t play with your food!—

Chancy intervened. Then she looked at Kieran.

—Go ahead, try it. I promise it will do you good.—

The boy took the glass with trembling hands and drank. He made a face.

—Yuck! It tastes weird!—

Chancy laughed softly.

—I’m sorry, honey. It’s the only thing you can eat.—

Kieran sighed, but kept drinking. For the first time in days, the emptiness in his stomach began to ease.

And in Mrs.Kane’s eyes, a glimmer of hope was ignited.

Life after that night wasn’t any easier, but it was a little calmer. Sometimes, when silence settled over the house like a warm blanket, Chancy would remember it all. And it still felt like a dream.

But now, several years had passed since that day; it was a memory slowly fading.

Today, sunlight spilled through the window as she lightly drew back the curtain. Outside, the forest breathed quietly, veiled in a golden mist. Inside, the smell of freshly made pancakes began to fill the house, sweet and comforting.

She just hoped Mason hadn’t eaten the reserved butter again. She smiled in relief, finding the container untouched in the fridge.

Then came the commotion.

—I’m getting there first!—

Shouted Liam, racing down the stairs at full speed.

—No, idiot, I’m first!—

Lily retorted, pushing him mercilessly.

Every morning was the same: a competition for a simple prize, the first to reach the table got an extra pancake. Both tumbled over chairs and ended up on the floor amid laughter and complaints. Chancy laughed aloud, casting them a look that was equal parts amused and resigned.

Behind them came Mason, now ten, the naughtiest of the three. He managed to reach the bottom without falling, just barely.

—That’s not fair!—

He protested indignantly, but his laughter betrayed him when he saw his siblings rolling around.

Finally, with slow and careful steps, Kieran descended, leaning on Roger’s hand. The little vampire had twisted his ankle at school after a rough game with his siblings. All three had already received their fair share of scoldings.

Chancy watched the scene with a serene smile. What irony, she thought. The same man who once wanted to leave the boy in the forest now helped him down each step as if it were made of glass.

Roger cared for him, protected him. And Kieran... clung to his hand as if it had always been there.

It hadn’t been an easy path. At first, Roger couldn’t even look at him, he avoided him, ignored him. But the distance began to dissolve, little by little.

One night, while Roger read quietly by the fire, Kieran sat at a distance, curious. The man grumbled, uncomfortable at first, but noticing the boy’s attention, he began reading aloud. It was an old novel, a story of heroes and monsters, and the little boy listened, mesmerized, without blinking.

That scene repeated the next night. And the next. At first, Kieran sat far away, then a little closer. Over the months, the distance between them disappeared.

One afternoon, Chancy saw them together on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, or, rather, Werewolf and little Vampire, turning the pages with the same concentration. Roger even smiled as the boy read the dialogue aloud.

From then on, he was the one to suggest enrolling him in school with the others, to redecorate his room, and, for the first time, to defend him fiercely when other wolves nearby pointed at him along the path.

She still remembered the day Roger came back with bites on his neck, legs, and arms, pride intact.

—Some idiots thought they could insult my son—

He said then, wiping blood from his lip.

And that word, my son, was enough to melt her heart.

From that moment, Kieran became part of the pack.

Liam and Lily adored him: they watched movies together, shared secrets, planned mischief in the forest. But Mason… Mason followed him everywhere. He was jealous, even possessive. If anyone else drew Kieran’s attention, he would frown and subtly push them away. He called him “brother” with the same right as the others.

And he was.

He lived with them, laughed with them, grew up with them.

Chancy sighed. The home smelled of butter, laughter, and warm wood. It had been a long journey, full of fear, arguments, and small victories, but that morning, it was all worth it.

—Everyone sit down already!—

She shouted from the kitchen, raising her spatula as if it were a sacred weapon.

—And no one touches the pancakes until we’re all here!—

—What if someone’s starving?—

Liam complained, rubbing his head after bumping into a chair.

—Then they’ll die hungry, but with dignity,—

She replied, unfazed.

Kieran reached the last step, wobbling. Roger helped him sit at the table. Mason took a spot beside him, like a little guardian.

—Does it hurt a lot?—

Mason whispered, concerned.

Kieran shook his head with a timid smile.

—A little… but not too much.—

Roger rested a hand on his shoulder.

—You were brave—

He said in a fatherly tone.

—Braver than anyone else put together.—

Liam and Lily protested in unison.

—Hey! I jumped from a tree and landed on a rock! That’s brave too!—

Lily protested.

—No, that’s just stupid—

Chancy corrected from the kitchen.

Laughter filled the house. Kieran joined in, with that small, genuine laugh that only children give when they finally feel safe, he was still paler than the others, with large brown eyes, like the damp bark of forest trees. But in his smile shone the certainty of knowing he belonged. 

And he belonged here.

With them.

Tranquility, however, never lasts forever. Not even in the warmest homes.

That night, when everyone slept, Chancy remained awake by the fire. The flames danced in the fireplace, illuminating the walls lined with photographs: birthdays, excursions, afternoons of chaos.

She smiled at one in particular: Mason and Kieran, covered in mud up to their necks, laughing by the lake. Another showed Liam’s birthday: Lily holding a cake just before smashing it into her brother’s face, both frozen in a perfect moment of chaos. No one ate cake that day, but everyone remembered the laughter.

Roger came down silently and sat beside her, the fire reflected in his eyes a calmness he hadn’t had before.

—Do you still think about that night?—

He asked bluntly.

Chancy took a moment before answering.

—Sometimes… I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t gone out for that run.—

—Maybe someone else would have found him—

Roger said, though his voice lacked conviction.

She shook her head slowly.

—No. If the wolves hadn’t killed him, the cold would have.—

Roger nodded, staring at the embers with a grave expression.

—Do you think he’ll ever remember who he is?—

Chancy lowered her gaze. She had thought about it a thousand times, and her heart always answered the same: no. She didn’t want him to remember.

Because if he did, they would lose him. She loved it when he called her Mom, she loved it when, half asleep, he reached for Roger’s hand and called him Dad.

A wolf cannot raise a pup without claiming it. And when it does, taking it away hurts more than a bite.

—Maybe yes. Maybe no—

She finally replied in a low voice.

Roger looked at her with a faint gesture of understanding.

—I don’t know when it happened… but I don’t see him as a monster anymore. I see him as my son.—

He paused, taking a deep breath.

—And I hope we never have to lose him.—

Chancy took his hand and squeezed it gently.

—Because he is. Our son.—

The fire crackled, filling the following silence.

Deep down, Chancy knew. It was a cruel, selfish thought, perhaps, but real. She hoped Kieran’s real parents were dead. And if they weren’t, she hoped they never found him.

Because that child, who one winter night had appeared at her door, wrapped in blood and fear, was now her pack, part of her.

Her pup.

Her son.

And neither time, nor blood, nor gods could take that from her.

After that conversation, they never brought it up again. It was easier to ignore it, to let time do its work, and to believe that silence could heal what fear could not name.

But not all the time was calm. Kieran still had nightmares, even after years had passed.

Sometimes they were light, shadows that disappeared when he opened his eyes. Others were heavier, filled with screams he couldn’t fully remember.

Lily usually comforted him; strangely enough, so did Liam, even though he didn’t look like the type of brother to hug anyone. Roger did it often, with that awkward but protective gesture. And Mason… Mason was the most consistent. Sometimes he would sneak into his room without asking, lie down next to him, and wrap his arms around him until the trembling stopped.

And just like that, the nightmares fled.

In the early hours, Chancy would often find him sitting on the bed, eyes lost in the distance, sweat beading his forehead.

—Again?—

She whispered, stepping in silently. Kieran would only nod, trembling.

She would sit beside him, hold him tight, regardless of the small fangs that peeked out when fear took over.

—You’re not alone, sweetheart… Mom is here, okay?—

She murmured gently. He clung to her, seeking refuge.

It was a painfully tender routine.

But one night, after one of those nightmares, Kieran spoke more than usual.

—I remember… a voice—

He whispered.

—A woman.—

Chancy looked at him, alert, heart constricting.

—Your mother?—

She asked, uncertain of her own words.

He didn’t answer immediately. He closed his eyes, letting a tear slide down his cheek.

—She was screaming. I couldn’t see her face. Then… I heard howls, everything turned red, there was pain.—

Chancy held him tighter, almost suffocating him.

—You’re safe now.—

She said firmly.

—Are you sure?—

He asked, in a thin voice.

She pressed her forehead to his.

—I swear, little one. No one will ever hurt you again.—

And she meant it with a brutal certainty: if Kieran’s parents were still alive, if they ever dared to look for him, she wouldn’t let them near. They had failed once; they had failed to protect him, and she would not. Because now he was her son, and she would protect him with fangs if necessary.

Years went by. With them, fears grew smaller, and laughter grew louder.

Kieran grew. Not just in height, but in spirit. His voice became confident, his laughter contagious, his shyness rarer. He joined pillow fights, ran through the woods, got into more mischief with Lily and Liam… and when Mason started developing the temper of an alpha, Kieran was the only one able to calm him with a single look.

But all children grow.

And so do wolves.

Adolescence arrived with changes, new scents, new voice tones, and new questions, the family moved to a bigger cabin on the edge of a different forest, where the trees smelled of damp earth and the air tasted like beginnings.

While unpacking, Roger dropped the news without much ceremony:

—When we came to see the land, we discovered something nearby… a coven.—

Lily almost dropped the box holding her mother’s favorite glasses.

—A what!?—

—A coven, sweetheart. Vampires.—

Chancy explained, adjusting a lamp with forced calm.

—They live together, like a pack… just paler and less hairy.—

Kieran looked up, curious. He even took off his headphones.

—Vampires?—

He repeated, his voice neutral.

—Yes.—

Liam added:

—Our old enemies. There was a war a long time ago, years back… didn’t Mom tell you anything? Then a peace was signed, but still… better to keep distance.—

Kieran simply nodded, saying nothing more. Inside, something stirred. A premonition, an old buried sensation.

—But… I’m a Vampire, aren’t I?—

Lily looked at him horrified.

—But you’re not like them!—

She exclaimed.

—Don’t you dare compare yourself, okay? They are bad. You are not.—

Kieran barely smiled, not contradicting her, but deep down… it hurt. Because for the first time, he felt the distance between “them” and “him.”

Days passed.

School, as always, was chaos. Lily and Liam adapted quickly; Kieran and Mason, not so much.

One day, Mason found him talking to a girl.

—Do you like her?—

He asked for the fourth time.

Kieran looked up, exasperated.

—Do you like her?—

He countered.

Mason frowned.

—I’m just saying… you were smiling. It’s unusual for you.—

Kieran sighed.

—Her name’s Marcella. She was kind, she’s the first person who doesn’t look at me weird, Mason. But don’t worry, I don’t like her. Besides, I think she likes you.—

Mason exhaled, relieved. Chancy, watching from the kitchen, noticed the expression, and something tightened in her chest.

—Are you sure?—

She asked again.

—Mason—

Kieran said, gently elbowing him.

—If you keep pestering me, I’ll tell Lily that you stole her wolfie blanket.—

Mason went silent, defeated.

But the following Friday, something broke.

The sky was gray, the air smelled of storm. The school bus stopped at the path leading to the cabin. Kieran got off first, face hardened, he walked straight into the forest. Mason followed, desperate.

—Kieran, wait!—

But the vampire didn’t stop. When he reached the cabin, he went up the stairs, slammed the door, and locked himself in his room.

Roger and Chancy exchanged a look.

—And now what?—

He murmured.

Lily and Liam sat on the couch, arms crossed, equally indignant. Kieran had told them everything in a call. They were already home when it happened; only the parents hadn’t yet learned.

—Is someone going to explain this to me?—

Chancy asked, crossing her arms.

Liam spoke first.

—Mason was an idiot.—

—We already know that, but why this time?—

Lily took a deep breath, furious.

—Because of Marcella. He got jealous. Since Kieran spends more time with her, Mason started flirting with her. He’d tell her she was his girlfriend, that Kieran was jealous. And today… he shouted it in front of everyone.—

Roger clenched his jaw; it sounded like a very childish and pathetic act coming from Mason.

—What exactly did he shout?—

Liam looked at them with a mix of anger and sadness.

—That Kieran isn’t his brother. That he wished they had never saved him.—

Silence hit the room like a stone. Chancy went pale. Roger stood, eyes burning.

—I’m going to—

—No.—

She said, holding his arm.

—Let me.—

Her voice was low, but carried the fury of a wolf protecting her pack.

Mason sat on the steps, head in his hands. Chancy slowly approached.

—What did you do, Mason?—

She asked, without raising her voice.

He swallowed.

—I didn’t mean to…—

—Didn’t mean to what?—

—I didn’t want him to drift away from me…—

He confessed, on the verge of tears.

—Since Cella arrived, he doesn’t want to go to the forest, he doesn’t talk to me. I thought if… if I hurt him a little, he’d come back.—

Chancy looked at him, a mixture of tenderness and disappointment.

—And you thought hurting him would bring him back? What a sad, foolish thing, Mason.—

He wiped his tears.

—I just wanted him to choose me again, Mom. Like before.—

—You can’t measure love with jealousy, son.—

She whispered, kneeling in front of him.

—And even less use someone to hurt another. That’s not love, that’s fear. You’ve hurt your brother with a big foolishness.—

Mason looked up, eyes red.

—But he’s not my brother. He doesn’t have our blood. He’s not one of us…—

Silence hit like a blow.

Chancy stared at him.

—He is. And I don’t ever want to hear you doubt it again.—

Mason pressed his lips together. His breathing became uneven, as if he wanted to say something more, something he was keeping inside. Chancy lifted his chin firmly, ignoring that this attachment was no longer normal.

—Go and apologize. Not just to be polite, but out of love. Because in this house, Mason… you don’t sink fangs into a brother’s heart.—

She got up and went down the stairs, without looking back.

Mason stayed still, eyes shining with rage and shame. Light streamed through the hallway window, bathing his face. And in that golden reflection, his pupils trembled.

The roar of an unknown feeling, half love, half something darker, stirred in his chest.

Kieran, on the other side of the door, felt it too.

And the night, as if holding its breath, never moved again.

After that, there was never peace again. Although Mason tried to apologize, Kieran no longer wanted to hear him. He had changed seats on the bus, at the dining table, even on the sofa, he spoke less, laughed little. And Marcella, tired of the cruel game she had been dragged into, had broken up with Mason.

Everything was a mess. A silence that hurt more than any scream.

The days went on, gray and routine. Until the news arrived: a meeting with the Callistos, the leaders of the neighboring coven. A diplomatic visit, they said. A meeting to reinforce the pact between vampires and wolves. Chancy had accepted, though something in her chest weighed heavily, an old unease, a premonition she preferred to ignore.

That afternoon, as everyone got ready, Roger found Kieran sitting in the living room, still not fully dressed.

—Why aren’t you ready?—

He asked calmly.

Kieran looked up, a hint of irony in his voice.

—Do I really have to go? I’m not a wolf, and according to some—

He glanced briefly at Mason; Mason, in turn, looked away.

—I’m not really part of the family.—

Roger watched him in silence until his expression softened.

—You’re a Kane, Kieran. Even if you don’t have our blood, you are. And Kanes stick together everywhere.—

Kieran lowered his gaze, trying to hide a smile.

—…Thanks, Dad. But—

—No buts.—

Roger ruffled his hair.

—You’ve got five minutes. If Lily takes less time getting ready, I’ll start worrying.—

Kieran huffed but got up obediently.

Chancy appeared in the doorway, arms crossed.

—Nice speech, sentimental wolf.—

Roger feigned indignation.

—Oh, shut up. He’s my son as much as yours.—

—I know.—

She replied, her smile softening into tenderness.

Lily and Liam burst in like a whirlwind, interrupting the calm.

—Serious question—

Said Lily.

—Do we look threatening or fabulous?—

—What kind of question is that?—

Chancy replied, suppressing a laugh.

—Priorities, Mom—

Added Liam with all the solemnity in the world.

The trip had been calm until they left the cabin behind. As they ventured deeper into the forest, the treetops opened, revealing the Callisto mansion. Ancient, with tall windows and an air of stillness that chilled the skin. One of those places where silence seems to have its own voice. Even from afar, through the trees, the enormous structure commanded respect.

Chancy felt a knot in her chest, something inside warned her they shouldn’t have come.

The Callistos waited for them in the middle of the forest. The patriarch, tall and rigid, carried himself like someone always obeyed. Beside him, a woman with long hair, almost translucent skin, and eyes heavy with centuries of sorrow. Behind them, a young man: their son, with a sour expression and icy eyes, as if the very air was unbearable to him.

The formalities began awkwardly. Chancy shook hands; Roger smiled diplomatically; Lily tried to look serious, and Liam couldn’t take his eyes off Cedric, the young Callisto. Mason stayed tense, behind the group, while Kieran remained silent, several steps back.

Then everything changed.

The Callisto woman saw him. For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Her face shifted from disbelief to trembling, to overflow. The fan she held slipped from her hands, and she advanced without thinking, stumbling over roots and stones, but with a clear purpose.

—No…—

She whispered, her voice breaking.

—It can’t be…—

Kieran instinctively stepped back. Mason took a step forward, blocking the path between them.

—My little bee…—

She said, her voice fragile and breaking.

—It’s you… it’s you…—

Chancy felt the ground disappear beneath her feet and ran forward. But Kieran remained still. Tears fell unchecked as the woman advanced, hands trembling, reaching for her lost son.

—I searched for you, all these years. Carmen called me crazy… but a mother always knows.—

Something stirred in Kieran’s chest. Chancy, reaching his side, couldn’t help but lean against him, holding his shoulder. Mason remained firm, tensing his body to keep the distance between mother and son, his eyes glowing gold.

—Do not touch him—

He growled, instinctively.

The air crackled with electricity. The wolves tensed; the vampires stepped back, ready to defend. The Callisto patriarch and Cedric observed everything, trying to understand.

—What does this mean?—

Roger asked, voice low and dangerous.

—Peace, please—

Intervened Mr.Callisto, raising his hands.

—Laura, come… it’s not the time.—

But Chancy already understood. Her heart broke at the scene: the woman in front of them, with the same eyes and the same hands as Kieran, was someone she had feared for years.

—No… it’s the time. You don’t know how long I’ve waited! He…—

The woman’s voice cracked.

—He is my son. Don’t you see?—

The silence became unbearable; the wolves held their breath. Roger searched for a denial in his wife’s eyes but found none. Kieran took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief.

—No… it can’t be—

He whispered, feeling everything he knew crumble.

The woman reached out her hand, and Mason, with a swift movement, stepped in again.

—Please… let me see you, let me touch you—

She begged.

—Don’t touch me—

Kieran said, fragile and broken.

—Mrs.Laura, please step back—

Chancy said firmly.

Mason grabbed Kieran’s arm, trying to pull him away from the chaos, while Laura did not give up. She was taken aback when the werewolf holding his son shot her one last wild look, one that even scared Roger.

The wind blew through the trees, and the silence turned into an invisible roar. The pact, diplomacy, everything had ceased to matter. In the clearing, under the gray sky, one family claimed Kieran… and another was losing him.

—I… I’m not your son—

Kieran whispered, eyes empty, moving away with Mason, denying the bond the other insisted on reclaiming.

Because that’s how he felt.