Chapter 17 #2
My son. He was savoring those words.
"Can I see him?" I asked, voice still nasally from crying.
"Of course." Kayden stepped aside. "Dr. Amy said he needs quiet rest. Just don't wake him."
I pushed the door open softly.
A small nightlight glowed in the room, washing the bed in warm yellow.
Kai lay there, color much better than before—no longer that terrifying pallor, but with a hint of healthy flush. He slept deeply, small hand curled into a fist by his cheek, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
I walked to the bedside, leaned over him.
That little face... I looked at it a hundred times a day, but right now it felt precious beyond measure. I gently kissed his forehead.
"Mommy loves you," I whispered. "Always and forever."
Kai stirred in his sleep, smacked his little lips, then drifted off again. I sat by the bed, holding his small hand. Warm, soft, like a small bird in my palm.
The door cracked open. Kayden peeked in, holding a steaming cup.
"Drink this." He came in, set the cup on the bedside table. "Your voice..."
"Thanks." I picked up the cup, warm steam clouding my vision. Sipped slowly. The dry ache in my throat eased a bit.
Kayden stood on the other side of the bed, looking down at Kai with focused tenderness, like observing a miracle.
"He's sleeping hard." He said softly. "The guidance took a lot out of him. But that's good. Deep sleep helps his body heal."
"Bloodline guidance..." I looked at him. "How many times does he need it?"
"Once a week," Kayden said. "Until his body fully adapts to Alpha bloodline power. Probably... two to three months."
Two to three months. Meaning every week for the next few months, Kayden would come. Would be part of my and Kai's lives.
"I'll make time." He continued. "Evan can handle pack business. The company has deputies..."
"You don't have to do this." I cut him off, instinctively pushing him away again. My hand tightened on the cup. "You have important things. The pack needs you..."
"Kai needs me too." Kayden looked up at me. "He's my son, Layla."
"This is what fathers do." He paused, voice softening. "Even if it's not for you."
Even if it's not for you.
The words pierced somewhere soft in my chest. I couldn't tell if I felt relieved or strangely hollow. But this was what I wanted, wasn't it?
He won't use Kai against you.
He's just being a father.
You can keep it clean...
"I should go," Kayden said. He looked at Kai one last time, his gaze holding too much longing. "He's asleep. You should rest."
He turned toward the door. His tall figure cast a long shadow in the dim light.
"Wait," I called out before I could think.
Kayden stopped, turned back. Hope flashed in those silver eyes, then dimmed quickly, like he was afraid to expect too much.
My hands clenched slowly in my lap, gathering courage.
Layla, stop running.
"So why?" My voice came out small. "If you really don't see me as a mistake. Why did you have to reject me?"
Kayden's body went visibly rigid. He looked down, no longer meeting my eyes, just standing there silent for a long time, like a statue.
The room filled with nothing but the monitor's beeping and Kai's even breathing. A strange tension spread. I almost laughed at myself, looked away. I was about to give up—he won't answer—
"Because of my father."
I snapped my gaze back to him, startled.
Kayden finally spoke, his eyes deep, like opening a wound buried too long, already rotting.
"He had a fated mate. But not my mother."
My breath stopped. Dusty memories of Silver Moon Pack stirred hazily. I remembered whispered rumors treated as taboo, caught in passing when older women thought no one listened.
"He and my mother married for love." Kayden leaned against the wall, gaze drifting toward the night outside. "Everyone in the pack envied them. Said they were the Moon Goddess's perfect match."
"Until..." His hand slowly clenched. "Until one night after a banquet, my father got drunk. He wandered into the forest and met a woman. A she-wolf from outside the pack, disfigured by beasts, staying there on charity."
"Fated mate." I breathed the impossible, most cruel answer.
"The bond formed that full moon night." Kayden's voice took on a mocking edge. "Father said he couldn't control it. The pull was stronger than reason, stronger than love..."
He closed his eyes.
"He betrayed my mother. Not intentionally, but he did. Worse—the she-wolf got pregnant. That child was Finn."
I thought of that gaunt, shadowy man I'd seen only once before the engagement ceremony. The man who made me a murderer.
"Then everything fell apart. The beautiful, perfect marriage—like a fragile soap bubble. Father, Mother, the she-wolf—rumors swirled around all three. Mother started believing the vicious whispers. She hated that she wasn't the fated one."
Kayden's voice began shaking.
"She stopped smiling. Stopped talking. Just stared at mirrors all day. She got thinner and thinner until she was nothing but bones. Until the pain finally broke her. She slit her wrists. I was two years old."
I covered my mouth, eyes stinging—two years old. He lost his mother at two. Kayden had carried this all along.
"Father spent the rest of his life drowning in guilt." Kayden continued. "After the she-wolf gave birth to Finn, he drove her out of the pack."
"But the dead don't come back. He had nightmares every night, dreaming of Mother lying in a pool of blood.
He grew more unhinged, more obsessive...
For as long as I can remember, he told me fated mates were a curse.
And Victoria... she looked so much like my mother.
Father thought she'd be my perfect wife.
On his deathbed, he made me swear to marry her.
He thought we'd have the happiness he and Mother never got. "
I stood, slowly walked over to Kayden. This man I thought invincible—his eyes were red, shoulders trembling slightly.
"So when you discovered I was your mate..." I gently laid my hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him.
"I panicked." Kayden looked away. "My father's decades of twisted beliefs had become my instinct. I was terrified of becoming him."
"So you rejected me." I finished his thought.
"I rejected you in the cruelest way possible." His hand covered mine. I didn't pull away. "I thought that was right."
"But I was wrong. I just..." Kayden exhaled heavily. "I just made the tragedy repeat in a different form."
"Kayden..." I said his name without thinking.
"I'm not making excuses." He cut me off, eyes genuinely remorseful. "What I did, how I hurt you, there's no justification. I just wanted you to know... It was never your fault. It was me. I was the coward."
My throat closed. I couldn't speak for a long moment.
Kayden Blackwood—the man I thought strong, perfect, fearless—had laid himself bare, showing me his darkest past, his deepest, most painful wound. Shock, heartache, and a secret flutter of... joy? That he trusted me enough to confess it all. He trusted me.
Everything tangled in my mind.
"I need time," I finally said, lost and exhausted. "Kayden, I don't know what to say. So much has happened. I need to think. About my future, and..."
I looked at him. "Our future."
Kayden studied me seriously, that burning gaze making me want to hide. But he traced every feature of my face with his eyes, like it was the last time.
"I'll wait for you." He said. "However long it takes. Don't worry about Kai. I'll come every week for guidance until he's completely stable. That's not negotiable."
Then he looked at me one more time, glanced at Kai from afar, and turned to leave.
"Kayden."
He stopped. This time didn't turn around.
"Thank you for saving me tonight," I said. "And... thank you for telling me."
His shoulders relaxed slightly.
"Goodnight, Layla."
Silence returned to the room. Just me and sleeping Kai.
I went back to the bedside, looking at his peaceful face. Just moments ago, he'd been curled in agony, now sleeping so soundly.
Because his father came. His father helped him.
I sat in the bedside chair, holding Kai's small hand.
What do I do?
Keep pushing Kayden away? Let Kai keep growing up without a father?
Or... give him a chance? Give us a chance?
My thoughts were hopelessly tangled.
I was too tired to think anymore. I laid my head on the bed, closed my eyes.
Tomorrow. I'll figure it out tomorrow.
Tomorrow.
I don't know how long I slept. A cold draft jolted me awake.
I jerked my head up. My neck screamed in pain—sleeping bent over had wrenched something, like someone had twisted it full circle.
The room temperature had dropped.
So cold.
I rubbed my neck, shivering, and glanced at the window—
Wait. When did that open? I distinctly remembered it being closed.
The curtains billowed in the night breeze like ghostly shadows dancing. I stood to close it, then noticed something on the bedside table.
A piece of paper that definitely wasn't there before.
I picked it up. White memo paper, ordinary, like what you'd find anywhere in a hospital.
But there was writing on it.
The handwriting was messy, ink bleeding across the paper like flowing blood.
"Layla Gray, you can't run from me."
My blood froze. My fingers trembled. The paper rustled in my shaking hands.
Who wrote this? Who knew I was Layla Gray?
Cold crawled up my spine like an icy snake slithering along my vertebrae. Something made me turn around.
A pale face lunged at me, fangs bared.