Chapter 3 #2
Over the next few days, I kept hearing things about His Majesty. He had an illegitimate son. A woman around him who was "complicated," constantly caring for the child... This was clearly a trap. Noble werewolves didn't want to marry their daughters off to him.
Except for my mother.
I bit my lip. It's fine, Elena, I told myself. This is a transaction. To find your child.
The doors to the wedding hall opened before me.
Crystal chandelier light blazed, blinding.
Red carpet stretched between rows of guests—every notable werewolf noble in Silver pine Kingdom.
Their eyes landed on me, scrutinizing, assessing, whispering.
My mother sat in the front row as my family representative.
Next, I had to walk down that red carpet, step by step, all the way to the end, to my future husband, Lucifer Hale.
But wait.
Cedar. Amber.
My steps faltered. I thought I'd never smell it again. Then Lucifer turned, and the instant our eyes met, my fingers nearly crushed the bouquet. Those deep gray eyes—my heart nearly leapt from my throat.
Mine! My wolf jolted awake from its daze, crying out in excitement.
The bond stirred in that moment. Something frantically connected us. I couldn't control my legs—I almost ran to him. Mate, my wolf crooned. My heart must have been pounding because I could hear it, until—
Until I saw Lucifer's expression clearly.
He wore a black suit, his face impassive.
My heartbeat suddenly calmed.
He didn't recognize me.
I looked at my mother. She wore a formal dress, gently waving her fan, smiling tenderly just like in my memories. But now, that smile looked pasted on. She'd taken my scent. Mates were critical to werewolves. No way my mother didn't know that. But she'd still cruelly sealed off that path.
In that instant, all the doubts I'd suppressed exploded. Was she really my mother? The one who said she'd make it up to me?
A cough sounded nearby. I turned. Lucifer was looking at me. Sunlight refracted through the window behind him, casting shadows across his features, making him look even more perfect. He hadn't changed—still that man from the hotel that night, beautiful enough to steal my breath.
But he'd never know his mate stood right in front of him.
After that night, had he looked for me? Did he still think about me now? And that woman caring for his child—would he fall in love with her?
Countless questions spun and churned inside me. My chest felt so tight. The officiant began reading the vows. I couldn't hear a single word. My ears buzzed; all my senses focused on him. Cedar and amber flooded over me in waves. My wolf let out weak whimpers inside my body.
"I do," Lucifer said.
"I—" I opened my mouth while telling myself urgently, quietly: It's okay.
It doesn't matter that he doesn't know. I'm marrying him.
Starting today, I'll be beside him every day.
I'll let him slowly discover who I am. Magic always breaks eventually.
Sooner or later, he'll smell the lily and bay leaf again.
Maybe we can find our child... I can wait.
I took a deep breath and smiled at him. His expression stayed impassive, but his eyes narrowed slightly, as if he hadn't expected me to smile at that cold face.
"Daddy!"
A child's voice exploded from the side door, detonating like a bomb in the hall. Several Hale elders shot to their feet.
"Get him out of here!" The eldest raised his staff. "Guards!"
Murmurs spread around us. I heard someone lower their voice.
"See? That's the adopted son."
"His Majesty has raised him five years, never tried to hide it."
"The Gray daughter's really unlucky."
But I couldn't hear any of it. The boy who'd burst into the hall was running toward us. I stared at him, my eardrums roaring. He looked about four or five, wearing a shirt and shorts, light brown curls pressed against his forehead.
He ran straight up and threw his arms around Lucifer's legs, tilting his face up. "Daddy! I've been looking everywhere for you!"
The guards stopped at the edge of the platform, looking at Lucifer helplessly.
Lucifer frowned and bent to pull him back. "Liam, don't—"
My gaze locked on the child's face. His brow, nose, the line of his mouth—that little face was a dull knife, cutting through my memory inch by inch. Five years ago, that early morning, I'd held him in my arms. His hand was so small, gripping my finger and refusing to let go.
This was my child.
The child I'd left at the guard station.
Liam suddenly jerked free from Lucifer's grip, pulling something from his pocket—I didn't even see his movement clearly because I was still drowning in shock. Then rocks and mud pelted me.
"You go away!"
Guests gasped. From the corner of my eye, I saw my mother frown, but she didn't step forward to help. Didn't speak up to stop him.
Mud splattered across my chest. The white gown was soaked through in a large patch.
The pearl neckline dripped dirty water. I stood frozen, looking down at him.
He clutched his little fists, his face flushed red, eyes full of rage and fear—like a small wolf protecting its food, baring teeth at an intruder.
"I don't want you to be my mommy!" he shouted. "I already have Mommy Lina! Go away! Why are you trying to steal my daddy!"
Mommy Lina?
The woman who'd been caring for him?
Guards led Liam away. He kept crying, calling me a thief, a bad person. I didn't know who'd taught him those words.
I stood there feeling like a clown.
My husband didn't know I was his mate. And my child had just thrown mud at me.