Page 15

WINTER

A walk in Bracken Park after I leave Deacon’s house doesn’t do anything to clear the fog in my mind.

My wolf reminds me of what Deacon said over and over until it’s become nothing but the sound of a broken record to my own ears.

My mother always said that questioning the Alpha was like breaking the rules that governed the pack. Seven years ago, I had disputed what Alpha Foster had said about my family’s murder, but I didn’t think for a second it would bring repercussions.

I was young, grieving, bitter, and mad at everything and everyone. Maybe it was wrong of me to accuse the Alpha of lying, but Deacon doesn’t get to use that as an excuse as to why he rejected me.

And the pack taunting me? I would have gotten used to the taunts if he remained by my side.

Instead, he’d chosen to leave me when I was grieving, to turn me away when he was all I had.

“He looked for us after we left,” my wolf vocally reminds me, but if he looked for us for years, why didn’t he find us?

Why didn’t he find me when I was washing dishes for a living while I was pregnant with his kids? When I was struggling to make ends meet, why didn’t he find us then?

The organ in my chest? Goddess, it believes his words so much.

And my wolf being on Deacon’s side, too, makes it hard to deny that my mate might have never wanted to reject me in the first place and that circumstances forced him to.

I hate how my heart thaws at the thought of Deacon scouring every inch of every city trying to find me.

I also hate how my breath lodges in my throat as I remember how sinfully handsome, he looked this morning, all quiet and peaceful. If it wasn’t for what happened in the past, we would have been sharing a bed. I would have been sleeping in his arms, kissing him, and letting him touch me wherever he wanted.

The park might be empty this time of day, but even as the leaves slap each other in the trees from the cool morning breeze, I rack my gaze around. The feeling of being watched is so tangible to me. Fortunately, the ringing of my phone in my purse pulls me out of the reverie that I’m assuming to be nothing more than stress or mere hallucination.

Spotting a park bench nearby, I go to sit on it, grabbing the phone that has Isabel’s name littered on my screen.

The video call starts in a second, and there’s no hiding my smile when my boys’ faces appear on the screen, and they are each fighting for space on it.

“Mommy!” They both squeal.

“Hi, my little darlings. You guys ready for school?”

Adrian pouts, pulling up a sad face before he whispers in a tone that almost shatters my heart.

“Nooo. You didn’t come home to cook us dinner. We couldn’t sleep, Mommy.”

Oh boy.

Before I open my mouth to apologize, Asher cuts me off with an unexpected glee in his eyes.

“Is it because of our new daddy, Mommy? Is he coming? Will he bring toys? Abby’s dad brings her toys all the time!”

“I’ll get you all the toys you want, baby.”

That’s the best thing I can tell them without crushing their little hearts is that Kieran was never going to be their new dad.

“I don’t want a new daddy, Mommy,” Adrian admits, and I flick a brow at him. “You look sad, Mommy, so I don’t want him anymore.”

Goddess, what did I do to deserve these little angels?

Whatever Adrian says seems to upset Asher, and for the first time since I gave birth to them, I can tell they are about to disagree when it comes to this “new daddy” topic.

“Tell you what? How about you and Ash, brush your teeth, give Isabel an easy time as she takes you to school, and when you come home, Mommy will be waiting for you to cook your favorite food? How does that sound?”

“Really?” Asher smiles, and I want to kiss his little cheeks so bad.

Spending the night with Deacon has only made me miss my boys all the more.

“Yes, really. You like that, baby?”

“Yes!” They both squeal at the same time before their little waves appear on the screen. ” We’ll get going, Mommy. Bye.”

Isabel takes the phone, and there’s no missing the curiosity etched all over her face.

“Adrian was right. You do look sad. I take it the date didn’t go as well as you hoped?”

Actually, the date didn’t happen, and I ended up taking my drunk ex home after he gatecrashed said date, but I don’t tell Isabel all that.

“He wasn’t the right guy for me,” I say.

Isabel doesn’t ask any more questions as she tells me she’ll drop the kids from school and go home since I plan to spend all my time at the house today.

I sent Deacon a very clear and concise email about me being sick and needing a day off. Given what happened between us last night, he won’t question that what I need is a break from him.

xxx

“Are you seated first of all?” Julie asks, and with the way my nerves flay, I almost want to sit down from her words alone.

“No, why?”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t show up at the office, Win. Everything’s been chaotic since morning. The board of directors isn’t too happy about what happened last night. They are worried it might impact the company’s image and drag it further into the mud.”

What happened last night?

Goddess, no.

Does everyone know what happened on my date?

“Okay, okay, you have to slow down and explain everything to me clearly, Jules. What…what happened last night? What do you mean by that?”

Her silence that stretches for two minutes has me biting down on my nails nervously, “I’m going to send you pictures, and before you see them and freak out, know that this is not your fault. The plan for your date with Alpha Kieran was going to work. No one would have thought your psychopathic ex would show up and start throwing fists.”

I slump on my living room couch, looking at the pictures that Julie sent me.

Shit.

There’re pictures of Kieran and Deacon fighting, while I stand a few feet from where they are, begging them to stop.

To someone who couldn’t care less about drama, these pictures might be nothing more than pictures.

To someone as nosy as my co-workers, on the other hand, then these pictures have been spread around, and I can already see the rumors written in big, bold letters.

Two rival CEOs engage in a fight to the death for a lowly omega.

A personal assistant going to the extent of seducing two CEOs?

Miss Cavanaugh not only seduced the new boss of Bracken Holdings but the CEO of Vega Industries, too. Talk about a slut who doesn’t know how to quit!

“Winter? Are you still there?”

“Yes.”

Still alive and intact, apparently.

“What do you plan to do about the pictures and the rumors?”

I’m too tired to even think about it.

“Nothing. I’m going to spend time with my boys and pretend all is right in the world.”

And that’s what I do.

Cooking with the boys has always been an exhilarating moment for me, especially when both boys demand attention from me when I’m in the middle of preparing them a meal. Yet, I can count this as one of those immeasurable moments I have with the kids.

I chop down a few slices of carrots, taking two pieces and handing one to Adrian, who’s on my left and giving the other to Asher, who’s on my right.

“Mommy?” Asher starts.

“Yes, baby?”

I know what he’ll say before he says it.

Asher’s always been vocal about not liking his veggies. “I don’t think I like carrots.”

There it is. I almost chuckle at reading his mind too well.

“But our teacher said carrots make us big like superheroes,” Adrian chomps on his piece, giving me a big wide smile.

Their teacher, Miss Lincoln, is one of the kindest women I’ve ever met, and given the fact that she spends more time with my boys than Isabel, I’d give that woman a medal for handling them.

“That’s right, baby. That’s why it’s important for both of you to eat plenty of carrots and veggies. Especially broccoli.”

The face that Adrian pulls up tells me he might like carrots, but broccoli is where he draws the line.

“Mommy, when I grow up, I want to be a superhero,” Asher jumps up and down, the gap between his teeth glinting like a mirror under the mercy of the sun.

“You can be anything you want when you grow up, Ash.”

I would probably tell him that when he turns eighteen, he’s going to be an Alpha, but being a superhero and being an Alpha are close to the same thing.

“Mommy can I go and watch the TV now?” Adrian asks, and as much as I would like to keep him here and listen to him and his brother talk, I let him have his way.

“Sure, baby.” Five minutes later, I take the baked salmon from the oven, cautioning Ash not to step too close to the oven. Once I’m done, I chop down on the already-cooked French beans before offering Ash a piece.

“How does it taste? You like it, baby?”

Ash nods, “Mmhmm. It’s delicious, Mommy.”

I’m about to cut into the salmon when the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight. Adrian went to turn on the TV five minutes ago, and yet I can’t hear the TV or any sound coming from the living room.

Abandoning the salmon, my feet lead me out of the kitchen. That rut-tut-tut in my chest wrenches my lungs and threatens to take all my air away. When I reach the living room, the sight that greets me is enough to choke my throat and spike my adrenaline.

“Addie? Adrian!”

My little boy shakes on the floor, his skin pale, his eyes almost changing color, and I run to him, thinking because I’m his mother, I can somehow miraculously heal him.

I call his name.

No.

I scream his name.

I try to save my baby, but he doesn’t stop shaking.

My baby never stops shaking as his body turns cold in my arms.