25. Chapter 25 #2
“You’re going to walk into that Pack compound and back Conall up. You’re going to claim that little girl, and then be the best fucking father you can be, even if I have to drag you, kicking and screaming, through her childhood to do it.”
Owen opened his mouth, but I held up my hand again and let a few bolts out to play. “Get over yourself and whatever is eating you alive, before you lose Conall and your child for good.” He clenched his teeth, but dropped back into his seat, then ignored me for the rest of the flight.
The British Columbia Pack compound sat in a valley ringed by mountains.
The massive main Pack house was crafted from old-growth logs.
The Pack’s energy swirled in the air, anxious and expectant.
Conall walked beside me, his jaw set. Owen trailed a few feet behind, his energy still prickling with resentment.
Freda and Ash flanked us, silent and watchful.
The Pack house displayed beautiful Native American artwork and thick, handwoven wool rugs.
Alpha Whitlock’s study was lined with mahogany bookshelves, and he sat behind a large, carved desk. He was in his sixties, with a prominent nose and silver hair that somehow clashed with his weathered face.
He stood and inclined his head. “Alpha Segerson, Alpha Mate Blackthorne.” Then his gaze swept behind us. “Owen,” he clipped.
Owen didn’t respond, but he took his hands out of his pockets and straightened his shoulders.
Whitlock’s study smelled of woodsmoke and old books. A massive desk dominated one wall, its surface littered with papers and a steaming cup of tea. Somehow, the tea made me relax a little. He gestured to a cluster of leather chairs and settled behind the desk.
“I’m sorry we only seem to meet under these circumstances. Can we get you anything to drink, or any refreshments?” We all declined, and he folded his hands and stared at Owen. “You should’ve spoken up. The last nine months have been... difficult.”
Owen’s jaw worked. “I suspected, but let’s be honest. Anna has fucked a lot of shifters, and we all know how conniving she and her family are.”
“Still. You chose to stay silent while your brother cut himself off from his mate.” His gaze slid to me, brief and assessing. “It makes me wonder what kind of a father you’d be.” It was a fair point.
Conall sat forward. “That’s an issue between Owen, me, and Riley. And he’ll be a better parent than Anna.”
Whitlock inclined his head. “Anna attempted to harm the fetus and terminate the pregnancy herself at thirty-four weeks.” Whitlock’s voice turned cold.
“She partially shifted and tried to claw the fetus from her womb. Dr. Reeves intervened and sedated her, but not before she nearly killed him. He sustained three broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a permanently maimed left arm.”
My stomach turned. Maybe it would’ve been better if I’d killed Anna at the Canis mate bonding ceremony. “Are Anna and the baby alright?” I asked.
Whitlock leaned back and openly studied me. “Yes, thank god. But it’s been ugly.”
The room fell quiet. Conall’s wolf rose to the surface, and I took his hand and squeezed. No matter how complicated or strained my relationship with Conall was, his wolf and I shared a bond.
“How is the child now?” Conall asked, his voice gravelly.
“Healthy and strong. She’s being cared for by our head nurse and my Alpha Mate.”
“We’re here to claim the child as part of the Northwestern States Pack under the Pack law’s parental rights statutes. Owen is–”
The study door opened, and a lean, middle-aged shifter in designer slacks, a wool suit coat, and a diamond brooch at his lapel strode in.
The room’s energy curdled like sour milk.
He had Anna’s dark hair and the same coldly beautiful bone structure.
His cruel, entitled energy filled the study, and the device at the base of my skull hissed in distaste.
More and more, the implant and I were in agreement.
“Alpha Whitlock, I’m here to formally claim my granddaughter and take the child into custody.” He didn’t acknowledge the rest of us.
Whitlock’s expression didn’t change. “The child’s father is here, Alistair. Along with his Pack Alpha and Alpha Mate. Owen Segerson is exercising his parental shifter rights.”
“Is he?” Alistair’s gaze flicked to Owen. “A shifter who abandoned the child’s mother and hid like a coward? The baby will be better off being raised here by me.”
Owen stood, the movement slow and deliberate. His energy shifted, resentment and pettiness giving way to something harder. At that moment, he reminded me of Conall.
“Over my dead and rotting body will I let someone like you anywhere near my child. She’ll be part of my Pack, and she’s my daughter to protect.” Owen stared Allister down. “I know how you treat Anna. No wonder she’s unstable.”
Alistair sneered. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about, and I know what you do to her. The control, the isolation, the way you turned her into a weapon aimed at my brother. She told me everything, Alistair. Every fucking detail.”
A calculating reassessment flickered across Alistair’s face.
“The law is clear,” Whitlock cut in. “Parents have a superior claim unless both are deemed unfit. Based on Anna trying to kill her own child, I deem her unfit. Owen Segerson is claiming his parental rights.”
Conall stood. “Owen can be a bastard, but he’s not unfit. I support his claim.”
It was one of those times when I had no idea what my role was, but I stood as well and stared at Alistair. “I also support Owen’s claim.”
“You aren’t part of this conversation,” the shifter sneered.
I raised an eyebrow. “Since the child will be living in our Pack house, and I’ll help raise her, I believe I am a part of this conversation.
” I pointed to the now-faded scars on my face from where Anna had slashed me.
“Your daughter injured me at our Canis mate bonding ceremony. Then she committed fraud and caused me further harm. I’ve also been told you and your daughter owe me reparation, which I haven’t seen.
” I turned to Whitlock. “I’ll be expecting that within the next thirty days, or I’ll be filing a formal complaint with the Pack Council.
” I turned back to Alistair. “No worries. I plan to put that money in a trust for your granddaughter.”
Contempt and loathing bled from the man as he sneered. “You think my grandchild would be better off raised by you? You’re an uncouth, bottom-feeding Cog, for Christ’s sake.”
“Her name is Seraphina,” Owen cut in.
“Seraphina? What kind of a name is that?” Alistair sniffed.
“An old and noble one,” Owen answered. “She’ll go by Feeny until she can decide for herself.”Alistair opened his mouth, but Conall cut in. “Seraphina is our late grandmother’s name, so be very careful what you say next.”
Whitlock stood. “It’s settled. The child is officially placed in the custody of her biological father and is thereby deemed a member of the Northwestern States Pack, now under the protection of the Alpha and Alpha Mate.
” A small strand of magic flowed from Whitlock to Conall, as if to solidify the proclamation.
“You can go.” Whitlock turned away from Alistair, clearly dismissing him.
Alistair’s furious gaze swept the room before he stormed out. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving a charged silence.
A moment later, a nurse entered, carrying a bundle wrapped in a pale green blanket. She was middle-aged, with sharp eyes and a calm demeanor.
Owen turned. He stood there for a moment, his hands at his sides, his eyes wide. Then he swallowed and awkwardly reached for the bundle.
“Hold your elbow out like this. Always support her head,” the nurse instructed as she transferred the child into his arms.
Seraphina had a thatch of dark hair and a face that was still new and unformed. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth moved in her sleep. God, she was so small.
“Hello,” Owen murmured. “Hey, teeny Feeny, open your eyes.” I glanced at Conall, who raised an eyebrow at me.
The nurse handed me a large duffel bag full of supplies. “There are two cans of high-protein formula here. I’ve packed enough diapers to get you home and a few changes of clothes.” Somehow, the woman thought I knew what to do.
“Uh, thank you.”
She glanced at Owen and Feeny. “You’re welcome.”
“Can I get your number in case we have questions?” I already had a million.
She smiled. “Of course. My name is Janice.” We exchanged contact information, and Janice recommended a few books as Conall said our goodbyes to Whitlock.
Outside, the mountains rose against the dark sky as a storm rolled in. I fervently hoped someone at the Pack house knew how to care for an infant because I didn’t have a clue, and by the panic creeping into Owen’s eyes, he didn’t either. I was petty enough to enjoy his discomfort.
My enjoyment died as Conall brushed my shoulder, then took the duffel bag Janice had handed me. We still needed to talk about the photos on my phone.
I also wondered how long it would’ve taken him to call me back if he hadn’t needed me.