Chapter 7
Claire’s POV
While I was almost killed by the rogues, Gideon celebrated his family built on my blood.
I stared at the silver–threaded fabric Emma wrapped around the baby. My daughter.
My mind hasn’t allowed me to rest. I keep seeing Leo being taken from me. The glare of the rogue’s eyes in the dark. And Gideon.
The babe sleeps soundly, unaware of the storm rising in me. I touch her soft cheek with the tips of my fingers and try to imagine a world where she grows up without pain. Without betrayal. Without hiding. Without ever knowing the sound of her mother sobbing into the dirt.
I have been ground into the dust by Daphne’s heel. Rage boils my blood at the thought.
I can’t just leave like that.
I have to make it clear to Gideon that I never tricked him, and he’s hated me all this time for nothing.
I have to let him know that Daphne is not dangerous. She spread a fake order from him and left me to death. Who knows what she will do to Leo?
If I have a chance to explain myself, the Gideon I know would at least give me the right to see and protect my son.
My ex–mate, Gideon.
“I’m going back.” My voice slightly stutters when I look up into Ivan’s eyes.
“Foolish.” He responded without an expression.
“I have to.” Keeping my eyes on his face. “I need to make things right.”
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He stares at me for a long time, like he’s deciding whether or not I’m worth his time. Eventually, he says, “Do what you want. But don’t let me find you dying at my border again.”
***
On the day of the celebration, I don a plain dress and wrap my vibrant hair with a scarf.
Emma bundles the baby gently, her eyes wet with worry. “We’ll care for her,” she says. “I swear it.”
I kiss my daughter’s forehead. Her cheeks. Her nose. Like each kiss will/bind her to me.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “Tell her I love her. Every day.”
Emma insists that I should go with Ivan’s driver, Peter, saying I should have some amount of protection in my fragile state.
Though Ivan didn’t show up when I left, Emma tells me that he also agreed to let me borrow his driver.
That’s Ivan. Cold, but not cruel.
Later, as we approach Silver Crescent territory at nightfall, anxiety fuels me. My disguise should keep me from being noticed. Especially since Gideon broke our mating bond, I don’t bear the scent of him anymore.
The guards at the outer perimeter barely glance at Peter and me. A pair of traveling merchants, we say. One of them sniffs the air and shrugs.
KARG
15:26 Thu, Dec 25 R
Chapter 7
“Go on then,” he mutters. “Ceremony’s about to start.”
The moment we cross the threshold, I feel it. The pull. Like my soul remembers this place even if my body wants to forget.
We follow the crowd. People dressed in their finest clothing walk toward the clearing outside the packhouse. Laughter, candlelight, music.
A celebration for my son. My steps falter as we reach the edge of the crowd. I’m not wanted here. Hell, I’m not even needed. I’ve been replaced by a horrible woman who yearns for my life.
Gideon stands on a raised platform, wearing a black suit, our son cradled in his arms. Daphne is beside him, radiant in white and crimson, her black hair curled in waves that gleam under the lantern light.
She holds the baby for a moment. People cheer. Some whisper. I hear fragments.
“What happened to Luna Claire?”
“Didn’t the Alpha have a mate?”
“She was exiled. Heard she went mad.”
“I always knew he’d end up with Daphne. They were made for each other. Always have been.”
My chest tightens.
Peter puts a hand on my shoulder.”Poor Daphne. White is definitely not her color. He says loudly.
A few people snicker at his comment.
Gideon raises his voice. “Tonight, I name my firstborn son, Leo Hallow, heir to the Silver Crescent Pack.”
Applause and cheers erupt around me, but I can barely hear them. My son is raised in Gideon’s arms. Leo looks pale, sickly
even.
Then, Daphne’s father steps forward, puffed up with pride. “It is my pleasure to announce,” he shouts, “that our families have arranged a union. Alpha Gideon and my daughter, Daphne Moore, will be bonded within the coming moon. She will take her rightful place as Luna.”
The crowd breaks into shocked gasps and delighted cheers. Daphne turns to Gideon and presses her lips to his. He doesn’t move, but he doesn’t pull away either. They are the image of the perfect family.
I can’t breathe.
And then Leo begins to cry.
My legs move before I realize it. He needs me. He’s sick and he needs me.
Peter pulls me back. “Don’t,” he warns. “Not now. Think of your son and daughter.”
Leo wales louder. The sound shreds my heart into pieces. I press my fist to my mouth, trying to contain the sob that rises in my throat. My baby. My sweet boy.
He’s not even comforted. Daphne fumbles with him, clearly unsure what to do.
I need to go to him. I have to.
Peter shakes his head. “We wait.”
Before I can argue, movement rustles through the crowd. A few guards begin to weave through people, sniffing, searching.
15:26 Thu, Dec 25 RG
Chapter 7
My heart freezes. “They’re looking for someone. What if–P”
“Let me ask.” Peter approaches a guard near the edge of the stage.
The guard nods at whatever Peter asks him and smirks.
“The ex–Luna went crazy. The Alpha thinks she’s a danger to his family. Wants to find her.”
“For what?” Peter presses.
“Kill her. Torture her? I don’t know. All I know is the Alpha wants her gone.”
Gideon wants…He wants to kill me?
“We need to move. Now.” Peter pulls me through the crowd.
Did someone recognize me? Or had Gideon suspected I’d try to return? My disguise isn’t that good. Maybe it was Leo. Maybe he sensed that his real mother was here.
We make it to the edge of the clearing, but the guards are spreading now, tightening the circle.
Peter pulls me to face him. “Make a run for the car. Don’t draw attention to yourself. If I’m not there in twenty minutes, leave without me.”
“But what about you?”
“I’ll be fine. Go!” He whispers.
Peter backs up and bumps into another man. “Thief! Thief! This man stole my wallet!”
Immediately, Gideon’s men focus on Peter and the poor man, who is being framed, instead of looking for a woman with red hair. I rush through the town. My eyes catching on all of the places I used to know so well.
The place I would never be able to call home again.
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