Chapter 18
Lucas
The morning sun filtered through my office windows as I stared at the stack of reports on my desk.
The Moonshadow Pack's business holdings required constant attention, but today, my mind was elsewhere.
I checked my watch for the fifth time in as many minutes.
Two hours until I would see Alison and Leo at the park.
My son. The words still felt strange on my tongue, a mixture of pride and regret. For four years, I'd missed every milestone, every laugh, every tear. My wolf paced restlessly inside me, eager to make up for lost time with both our mate and our pup.
James knocked on my door, breaking my reverie. "The quarterly reports are ready for review, Alpha," he said, placing another folder on my already crowded desk.
"Thanks." I gestured to the chair across from me. "Sit down for a minute."
He raised an eyebrow but complied. "Everything okay?"
"I'm seeing Leo and Alison today," I said, unable to keep the nervous edge from my voice. "At the park."
James's lips curled into a knowing smile. "About time. How are things between you and Alison?"
I ran a hand through my hair. "Complicated. She's letting me into Leo's life, but she's still guarded with me. Can't blame her after everything."
"You two are fated mates," James reminded me. "That bond doesn't form by accident."
"Tell that to five years of mistakes and misunderstandings." I tapped my fingers on the desk. "I need this to go well today."
"Just be yourself," James advised. "Not the cold CEO, not the intimidating Alpha, but the real Lucas. That's who your son needs to know."
I nodded, grateful for his counsel. "I'll try."
The park was bustling with weekend activity when I arrived.
Families spread picnic blankets across the grass, children chased each other around playground equipment, and joggers navigated the winding paths.
I spotted them immediately—my wolf senses honing in on Alison's delicate scent of vanilla and wildflowers.
She sat on a bench wearing a simple sundress, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, watching Leo climb the jungle gym.
My chest tightened at the sight of my son—his movements agile and confident, his laughter carrying across the playground.
He had my eyes and jawline, but his smile was all Alison.
Leo noticed me first, his heightened werewolf senses already developing despite his young age. "Dad!" he shouted, jumping down and racing toward me.
I knelt to catch him in a hug, inhaling his scent—a perfect blend of Alison's sweetness and my own woodsy musk, marked undeniably as Pack. As my child. My wolf rumbled with satisfaction.
"Hey, buddy," I said, ruffling his hair. "Having fun?"
"Uh-huh!" Leo nodded enthusiastically. "Mommy said you're coming with us today. Can we get ice cream? And go on the big slide? And feed the ducks?"
I laughed, standing as Alison approached. "We'll do whatever you want."
Her expression softened as she watched our interaction, though I could sense her caution. "Hi, Lucas. Thanks for coming."
"Wouldn't miss it," I replied sincerely, resisting the urge to pull her into my arms as well. One step at a time. "Beautiful day for the park."
"It is." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture I found endearing. "Leo's been looking forward to this all week."
I felt a tug on my hand and looked down to see Leo's impatient face. "Can we go now? I want to show you the big slide!"
"Lead the way, little man," I chuckled, allowing myself to be dragged toward the playground.
For the next hour, I followed Leo's whirlwind tour of his favorite park attractions.
I pushed him on the swings, caught him at the bottom of the slide, and spun him on the merry-go-round until we were both dizzy with laughter.
All the while, Alison watched from nearby, her guard gradually lowering as she witnessed our bonding.
When Leo declared he was thirsty, I bought drinks for all three of us from a nearby vendor. We sat on a bench, Leo sandwiched between us, chattering about his school and friends.
"And then Ms. Johnson said my drawing was the best in the class," he explained proudly. "I drew our house and Grandpa William and Grandma Elizabeth."
"That sounds wonderful," I said, trying to ignore the pang of longing. I should have been in those pictures from the beginning.
Alison seemed to read my thoughts. "Leo has quite the artistic talent," she said softly. "He gets that from your side, I think."
The small acknowledgment of our connection warmed me. "My mother used to paint," I offered. "Landscapes mostly. I have several of her pieces at home."
"Can I see them someday?" Leo asked, looking up at me with hopeful eyes—my eyes.
"Of course," I promised. "Anytime you want."
Alison cleared her throat. "Why don't we walk around the lake? The ducks should be out this time of day."
Leo jumped up excitedly. "Can we feed them? Please?"
"I brought some bird seed," Alison said, reaching into her bag. "The park doesn't want people feeding them bread anymore."
"Smart," I commented. "Bread isn't good for their digestive systems."
Alison looked surprised that I knew this, and I shrugged. "I read a lot."
As we walked the path circling the lake, a strange sense of rightness settled over me. This is what I had been missing all these years—not just Alison, but this sense of family, of belonging to something more intimate than a pack or a company.
Leo walked between us, occasionally grabbing both our hands to swing himself forward, creating a physical connection between Alison and me that felt significant despite its simplicity. When our eyes met over his head, I saw the same realization reflected in hers before she quickly looked away.
At the lakeside, Leo enthusiastically scattered seed for the gathering ducks, giggling when they quacked and flapped around him.
"Not too close to the water," Alison cautioned.
"I've got him," I assured her, positioning myself between Leo and the lake's edge. The protective instinct came naturally—my wolf fully alert to any potential dangers to our pup.
After feeding the ducks, we continued our walk through the park. Leo's energy seemed inexhaustible as he ran ahead, then circled back, pointing out flowers, bugs, and interesting rocks along the way.
"He's always been like this," Alison remarked. "Full of life, curious about everything."
Our conversation was interrupted by a commotion ahead. A dog—a large golden retriever—had broken free from its leash and was bounding through the park, its owner running frantically behind it.
Before either of us could react, Leo's head snapped toward the animal, his eyes momentarily flashing gold—a werewolf's instinctive response to another canine. Without warning, he took off after the dog, racing with preternatural speed toward the wooded area at the park's edge.
"Leo!" Alison cried, panic edging her voice.
"I'll get him," I assured her, already running. My wolf urged me to shift, to track our pup more efficiently, but I restrained the impulse. This was a public park, after all.
Alison came behind me, her fear palpable. I wanted to tell her that Leo was in no real danger—his werewolf blood would protect him from most threats—but I knew that wouldn't ease a mother's worry.
I followed Leo's scent into the trees, the path narrowing as we ventured deeper into the small wooded area. The dog's barks and a child's laughter guided us to a small clearing where an unexpected scene awaited.
Leo sat cross-legged on the ground, the golden retriever calmly lying beside him, its head resting on his lap as my son gently stroked its fur. The dog's owner, a middle-aged woman, stood nearby, relief evident on her face.
"Leo!" Alison rushed forward, kneeling beside him. "You can't run off like that! You scared me to death."
"Sorry, Mommy," Leo said, not looking particularly sorry. "But I had to help Max. He was scared and confused."
I approached more slowly, studying the interaction. Leo's hand moved rhythmically over the dog's fur, and the animal's eyes were half-closed in contentment. This wasn't ordinary—it was the calming touch of a born Alpha.
"He just ran up to Max and said something to him, and the dog just... calmed right down," the owner explained, bewilderment in her voice. "I've never seen anything like it. Max usually takes forever to settle when he gets excited."
I exchanged a knowing glance with Alison. Leo's werewolf instincts were developing early—earlier than I'd expected.
"He's good with animals," I said simply, crouching beside them. "Aren't you, buddy?"
Leo beamed up at me. "Max says he was chasing a squirrel and got lost. He was trying to find his mom." He nodded toward the owner.
Alison's eyes widened slightly—Leo was too young to know he shouldn't mention that he could communicate with animals. To a human, it would sound like childhood imagination, but I recognized it as another sign of his heritage.
"Well, I'm just so grateful," the woman said, attaching Max's leash. "Thank you for helping hold him down."
Leo reluctantly said goodbye to his new friend, and we walked back to the main park area, Leo sandwiched protectively between us.
"What happened back there?" Alison whispered when Leo ran ahead to the water fountain.
"His wolf recognized another canine in distress," I explained quietly. "It's instinct—part of being a pack animal. He's showing Alpha traits already, being able to calm the dog like that."
Alison chewed her lip. "Is that... normal? For his age?"
"It's early," I admitted. "But he's strong. My bloodline runs deep."
"Will he be okay? I mean, with control and everything?"
I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'll teach him everything he needs to know. I promise."
Our eyes held for a long moment, and I felt the pull between us—the mate bond that neither time nor misunderstanding had managed to break. For a heartbeat, I thought she might lean into my touch, but Leo's return broke the moment.
"I'm hungry," he announced, looking expectantly between us.