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Chapter Thirteen

L ina

I didn’t sleep well that night. Despite knowing that shutting down what was happening between Stephen and me was the right call, I returned late that night to Blackthorn Villa, feeling unsatisfied and agitated.

Most of the night, I tossed and turned, haunted by how good and right it had felt to be so close to Stephen again.

All night long, I kept trying to find a way to dismiss my feelings.

It’s my wolf. It’s the mate bond. When I finally managed to sleep, it wasn’t for long.

I woke in a cold sweat from a nightmare: Magnus had uncovered our intimacy through a hidden camera in our office.

It took me ages to reassure myself that I’d thoroughly searched our office for surveillance equipment in the first few days of working at Blackthorn Corporation.

Early that morning, I woke to a dull, pounding headache and a hollow feeling gnawing at me.

Sitting up in bed, I looked at my mobile and groaned: it was only 6:00 a.m. I longed to talk to Emily and Matthew again. It was Saturday, and by 8:00 a.m., Betty’s usual waking time, I’d be able to give them a call.

I remembered what I’d confided to Stephen.

“She kept me grounded.” Of course, Em and Matt had been a grounding influence these past few years, but as I’d opened up to him, I’d been thinking about Betty.

She was my anchor, my reason for being. Indirectly, I’d told him about her.

I shouldn’t have opened up to him like that.

I was already on dangerous ground trying to protect my real reason for being here—to rescue my mother.

The last thing I needed was for Stephen to be getting in my head.

God, I need my friends.

As if Emily’s ears were burning, her name suddenly flashed up on my screen. Worry pounded through me. Since I’d been away the last month, neither Emily nor Matthew had called this early, not once.

“Em?” I picked up, “What’s wrong?”

“Lina, Betty’s been up all night with a fever. We didn’t want to worry you. We thought it would get better by the morning, but she’s agitated and keeps asking for you—”

“I’m on my way,” I exclaimed. “Keep me posted if anything changes,” I added, already climbing out of bed.

In a moment, I was dressed and out the door.

Luckily, at this time, Magnus hadn’t risen yet, and I was able to sneak out of the house and into my car without any questions—something I was immensely relieved about, given that the only thought in my mind was Betty.

I didn’t think I’d be able to keep the worry tearing at me from showing.

Yet, even as I drove away from the Hamptons and into New York, I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of Magnus’s men. They’d tailed me the first few times I’d come into New York on the weekend to go to Macy’s, but today, this early, there was no sign of them.

Once out of New York, I settled into the drive, feeling both anxious about my little one and relieved as I’d finally get to hold her after so long.

Four hours later, when I pulled up outside my villa, with only a text from Emily to say that there wasn’t any change in Betty’s fever, I felt as if I’d been driving for days.

Emily was at the door as I arrived, her face a picture of relief as she shut the door. “She’s been asking for you all morning.”

My chest ached, and I hurried up the stairs to Betty’s room before I’d even shucked off my boots. Matt was bathing Betty’s forehead with a washcloth .

He glanced at me with a smile and said, “She’s been a little trooper.”

Betty’s face was clammy, but some brightness returned to her eyes as she caught sight of me. “Mommy?” She asked, her face crumpling as she cried. “I missed you so much. I’m so glad you’s back.”

Every word seemed to wrap itself around my heart, squeezing tight until it felt full to bursting.

“It’s okay, sweetie. I’m here,” I soothed, climbing into bed with her.

“Mommy,” she sobbed, her tiny hands clutching at my shirt.

In a moment, Matt had given me the washcloth for her forehead. There were deep shadows under his eyes.

“Go get some rest,” I told him.

He nodded, leaving me with my daughter, who I relished just holding, her earthy scent giving me a peace I hadn’t known in weeks.

“I missed you, Mommy,” Betty murmured, sounding more relaxed despite her groggy voice.

“I missed you, too,” I said, smoothing back her hair and dabbing her brow and cheeks, my worry melting away as I saw that she was okay.

It was a typical shifter fever, the kind I had suffered from as a kid.

Our temperatures always ran hotter than humans, and I could see the worry etched into Emily and Matthew’s exhausted faces.

They were shifters like me, but the early shifter fevers were notoriously tough on both the young and their caregivers.

The sleepless night had clearly worn them down, and I was grateful they’d done the sensible thing and called me.

It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes after arriving back when I softly sang a lullaby to Betty, my voice a gentle murmur in the dimly lit room. The rhythm and melody coaxed her into sleep.

But just as I was lost in the comforting routine, Emily poked her head around the door, whispering, “Lina. You better come here.” Her voice was strained, and the weariness was evident in her eyes.

Reluctantly, I maneuvered myself away from Betty, hoping the lullaby would keep her sleeping while I was gone .

I tried not to disturb her. She stirred, but then her breathing settled back into its peaceful rhythm.

Hurrying downstairs, I found her peering out the living room window. My blood ran cold as I followed her gaze to Stephen’s car parked on the driveway.

“Fuck,” I whispered, panic coursing through my veins. “What if he sees Betty?” My gaze darted around, honing in on each of the toys in the room, evidence of the life that was about to be exposed. What the hell do we do, Emily?”

“Tell him she’s mine,” Em suggested, her tone serious.

“What?” I blinked, unsure I had heard correctly.

“Tell Stephen that Betty’s my child. You came to visit me when you heard she was ill. You are Auntie Lina, her favorite aunt, after all.”

It was a risky idea, yet hadn’t Betty just gotten into playing house these past few weeks at nursery? If I could get Betty on board, this might actually work.

I saw Stephen had caught sight of me and Emily through the window. “Stall him for a moment while I make sure Betty knows the game. Okay?”

“Yep, ahead in the game, Lina,” Emily agreed.

In a moment, I was back beside Betty, who was awake again. “Mommy?” She looked wide-eyed and asked. “You’re not going again, are you?”

My heart squeezed, and I settled onto the bed beside her. “No, I’m going to stay right here with you. In fact, I was hoping that when you feel better later, you’ll let me play house with you?”

Betty brightened instantly. “I love playing house.”

“Emily and Matthew have loved playing it, too. They’re not ready to stop pretending. Do you think you can keep calling them Mommy and Daddy for a bit longer?”

Just as I asked her, there was a knock at the front door downstairs. My heart raced; I needed to act fast.

“I’m the best at pretending, Mommy!” she chirped, her spirits rising.

I winced but forced a grin. “That’s perfect, my little actress. But shouldn’t you call me Auntie Lina if Emily is Mommy? ”

“Right! Auntie Lina!” Betty laughed, momentarily distracted from her fever. “Can I have some juice, Auntie Lina?”

“Auntie Lina is on it!” I promised, grabbing the moment to fortify our play. With a racing heart, I hurried down the stairs to greet Stephen. The murmur of voices washed over me as I came down to see the last person I’d ever thought would be sitting on my couch in Philadelphia.

He looked concerned and apologetic.

“Stephen said you had a file he needed,” Em said as if she’d bought his reason for appearing. “I’m going to make us all some coffee—want one, Lina?”

“Stephen and I will make them,” I said, my voice steady despite the fluttering nerves in my chest. “Betty wants a glass of juice.” I spoke Betty’s name openly, offering Stephen knowledge of her existence so that it didn’t look as if I were trying to hide her.

I noticed Stephen looking around the house, his gaze lingering on the colorful toys scattered across the living room. It was obvious to anyone that a child lived here.

Em and Matt’s daughter, I reminded myself, trying to convince myself that if I repeated it enough, I’d be able to pull this cover story off with Stephen.

Emily nodded, retreating upstairs while I faced Stephen, anxiety twisting in my gut.

“A file?” I asked him as he joined me in the kitchen. He shrugged. “It was all I could think of.”

The unasked question lingered between us as he looked at me. What had compelled me to expose my friend’s location? What urgency had driven me here, prompting me to return to Philadelphia?

“I told you how important Em is to me,” I said, flushing as I thought of last night. But there wasn’t time to think about that right now. “She has a daughter, Betty. She’s not well. I came as soon as I heard.”

“I’m sorry,” Stephen said, his brow creasing as he listened to the murmur of soft voices above. “God, I feel even more of a jerk for needing to follow you now.”

“How did you know where I was?” I asked .

He heaved a sigh. “After the attack, Magnus had me put a tracker on your car.”

My eyes widened. So that’s why I didn’t see anyone following me. They hadn’t needed to. Stephen must have started following me when he saw me heading out of the city.

“It’s okay,” I said, feeling conflicted as I could see how cut up he was about needing to track me.

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

“I should have realized Magnus would have you tailing me. He’s been more protective since we were attacked.

” I remembered that Magnus and I were meant to be discussing mate ceremony dates this weekend.

Ever since the attack, too, he’d been keener on moving things forward.

I met Stephen’s steady green gaze. He was watching me with an intensity that had my heart fluttering again. But I had to ask, “What will you tell Magnus?”

He was quiet for a beat, then said, “That you met friends in Philadelphia.”

I exhaled a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived because the next moment, Betty wailed. “I want Auntie Lina!”

My heart twisted in response, and I rushed to her room, finding her agitated. “I’m here, sweetie. I’m here.”

I rocked her, and she soon calmed down.

“I’s good at this game, ain’t I?” she said, a proud smile illuminating her clammy face.

“The best, sweetie.”

Before long, her tiny breaths slowed, and I gently laid her back down, watching her sleep for a while. With difficulty, I left her room, my shoulders tightening.

Returning downstairs, I found Stephen and Emily sipping coffee, chatting about New York and Em’s work as a software engineer. As I watched him engage with one of my best friends, the world seemed surreal, as if I’d stumbled into a dream.

We took our coffees to the living room, where the world became even more off-kilter as Betty suddenly appeared, her blankie trailing behind her.

“Hey there, sweetie. How’s my little Swanling feeling?” Emily exclaimed in a bright tone that didn’t sound anything like her usual one.

Betty blinked at her dazedly, and for a moment, I thought our game was all able to come crashing down like a house of cards.

But Betty’s flushed face brightened with a smile. “I’s feeling a bit better, Mommy.” She wandered over to Emily, letting her pull her into her lap.

But my daughter’s gaze pivoted toward me, then curiously over to Stephen.

“Would you like to come meet Auntie Lina’s friend?” I asked Betty, not expecting her to move from Em’s lap. My daughter had always been shy of strangers. Even the few times she’d met Matthew and Emily’s family, she’d barely said a word.

But my heart beat rapidly as she nodded, a small smile edging her lips as she came over to us.

“This is Stephen, sweetie. Stephen, this is Betty, the finest ballerina you’ll find in all of Philadelphia.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Betty,” Stephen said, his gaze brushing over her.

In that harrowing moment, as our fabricated story hung by a thread, I struggled to keep my composure. Would he recognize something in her? The way her bright blue eyes sparkled in the sunshine reminded me so much of my own.

“My daddy’s sleeping,” Betty told Stephen, and in that moment, I seriously thought she deserved an Oscar.

“Your daddy’s been up all night because you were feverish, isn’t that right?” I said.

Betty nodded, still not taking her eyes off Stephen. “Are you my Uncle Stephen?” Betty asked, her beautiful blue stare hopeful.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and in this precarious moment, I felt exposed, knowing my entire life was in danger of being laid bare to him. Needing to get his attention off me, I suggested, “How about Auntie Lina reads you a story? ”

Betty cheered up, oblivious to the weight of the moment. She wandered to the coffee table where Swan Lake lay, but instead of bringing it back to me, she turned to Stephen. “Will you read, Uncle Stephen?”

“Of course I will. How can I say no to the little ballerina?” he said, a genuine smile breaking across his face. For a moment, I was dazzled by its brilliance. I didn’t think I’d seen that smile since the night we met. My throat tightened, and my heart fluttered.

As Betty settled beside him, nestling into his warmth, Stephen began to read the story in a low and soothing tone, a departure from his usual cadence. And the effect his voice had on my daughter as if a spell were falling over her, was evident in every word.

Emily shot me a surprised look. I couldn’t help but feel an unsettling blend of worry and wonder.

I knew deep in my bones that their unexpected bond was something that not even all our pretending could prevent.

After all, we weren’t humans. There was something instinctual in us shifters when it came to recognizing our mates and our young.

The nervous energy beat through me as I felt how precarious a position I was now in. Even if Betty continued to give the best performance, how long was it before Stephen uncovered who she really was?