Chapter 36
Gabe
The ride back was a blur—the roar of blood in my ears, the sound of sniffling kids, and the singular, desperate need to arrive.
My back no longer hurt, the adrenaline burning through my veins like a sedative numbing the pain.
Adea sat in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead, her fingers locked around the blond-haired boy huddled against her chest.
There was nowhere to park; the lot was full, and the chaos had tripled since we’d left. I jumped the curb, slammed to a stop, and jumped out. Opening the passenger door, Adea climbed out with the kid in her arms, the child at her feet scrambling onto the grass behind her.
I yanked her seat forward, swaying as I helped crying kids out of the cramped leather interior.
Parents who had been waiting, watching, were already sprinting across the stone pathways, screaming names. Kids ran crying into their mother’s arms; two brothers got swept up by an Enforcer.
The boy who had been huddling at Adea’s feet ran straight to his mother.
“I’ll find your Oh-sis, don’t worry,” Adea murmured, her voice high as the boy ran off. But as the crowd began to filter into the hall, we’d found everyone’s guardian but the child clutched tightly in her arms. My chest seized with a suffocating dread.
“Do you need me to carry him?” I asked. She was pale, her clothes wrinkled, and blood smeared her arms. She shook her head, her grasp tightening on him.
I grabbed her arm and led her toward the Hall. “Let’s look inside. We might have better luck finding his parents in the main hall.”
“I didn’t expect to kill anyone today,” Adea whispered, her frame shaking. “Or ever.”
I squeezed her arm reassuringly. “You did what you had to. That’s all anyone could ask of their Luna.”
I felt her lean against me before we were rushed forward with the crowd. The hall was packed, suffocating as we maneuvered through the shoulder-to-shoulder maze. Some people huddled against the walls, families weeping, and guards trying to clear the pathways.
A roar cut over the noise of the hall.
“River!”
Our heads turned in sync. Odis burst through the people. He was disheveled, his suit crumpled, shredded at the shoulder. His usual emotionless mask had completely shattered, replaced by a look of unadulterated fear. He looked like a man who feared the worst.
Who did he love enough to cry out like that? A lover?
My heart ached.
The child in Adea’s arms squirmed violently at the sound, his piercing silver-blue eyes locking onto the Beta. “Oh-sis!” River cried out, his tiny voice breaking as he reached his small arms out, fingers curling as his hands opened and closed.
His little brother?
Adea lowered him to the floor, and River bolted. The Beta dropped straight to his knees, his giant frame shaking as he gathered the boy into his chest, the rigid line of his shoulders finally dropping as he buried his face into the blond curls.
“I’ve got you,” Odis rasped, his voice unrecognizable. “You’re safe, River.”
I stared at them, the air leaving my lungs as something tugged in my chest. Felix snarled weakly behind my ribs, echoing through my chest. I looked at the boy’s face as Odis held him, and it clicked. My heart stopped.
The boy. His blue eyes, the shape of his face.
Olivia.
As if on cue, my mate marched into the entryway, pushing people aside.
“Livia,” the boy started. The moment her gaze landed on River, the panic in her eyes hardened, flipping away as if it pained her to look at him. Then her eyes landed on me. She let out a long, heavy sigh, stopping right before me.
“How did it go?” she asked, her voice quiet as she ignored him.
“We got kids out,” Adea murmured when I didn’t speak.
“What is this?” I whispered. I looked between Odis and Olivia. In my peripheral, I watched the Beta straighten to his full, towering height, moving his massive frame to shield the child.
She didn’t move.
“I’m glad you guys are safe. We found where they were coming through. Enforcers in the First Guard neutralized the breach point and we secured the school. Prisoners have been taken down to the holding cells.”
“He has your eyes,” I said, my voice dropping to an accusatory whisper. “Is Odis his father?”
Her brow curled as irritation flashed. “The past is the past. We’re not doing this,” she hissed, her gaze cooling as she regained control. “I owe you no explanations for my past.”
“That’s hypocritical after what you put me through last night.
The tables are reversed now and you think we can just ignore the fact you have a child?
I deserve to give you the same you gave me.
If my past can be held against me, so can yours!
You’re my mate, and a secret love child is kind of fucking big!
” I roared, the weight of a child was suffocating me. “Do you love him?”
“Enough.”
Odis stepped directly in front of her. He didn’t raise his tone; he didn’t even look angry. His stance was protective—of what was mine. His ability to stay levelheaded when the world was crumbling beneath my feet made my blood boil.
“This isn’t the time. You’re bleeding through your clothes, and you’re scaring my son. You’re her mate. That’s the end of it.”
He wasn’t bragging. Only speaking the truth, but my heart hammered in my chest. He’d confirmed my fears. Odis’s son. And Olivia knew him. The math was adding up and I didn’t want to finish it.
Had I become my own nightmare?
The moment the heavy doors sealed, the suffocating pressure of a dominant fury flooded the room, but it was Adea the crowd surged toward.
Terrified pack members, weeping mothers, and traumatized citizens began to swarm her by the pillar, pressing close with a desperate need for a protector.
They had seen her bring the children back; they saw the rogue blood staining her arms. Even running on pure, empty adrenaline, Adea didn’t shrink away from them.
She braced her feet against the stone and met their frantic gazes, offering the silent, steady strength of a Luna while I stood paralyzed in my own head.
Ethan closed the distance, his obsidian eyes zeroing in on her as his aura expanded to swallow the space around her.
Behind us the doors closed and murmurs of relief moved over the hall.
Ethan had returned.
He wasn’t wearing the mask. I’d only ever seen him behind iron and spikes—the Mad King ruling his kingdom. Without it, he just looked like a man. Sharp jaw, dark circles, green eyes cutting through smoke. Somehow his humanity made it worse.
His gaze swept the room, his green eyes fervent as they zeroed in on my best friend. He strode past us without a glance, heading straight for her. His hands gripped her arms as his head dropped to hers.
“Why didn’t you stay upstairs?” he growled, his eyes flashing to the gold of his wolf.
My body tensed as Adea lifted her chin. Her body was trembling from exhaustion, but she refused to shrink back. She didn’t so much as flinch.
“I know what you wanted, but I was needed. I helped save some of the kids at the elementary,” she said, her voice small, but firm. “Aren’t I the future Luna? I needed to do something.”
His gaze trailed over her face before he turned away from her, facing the onlooking crowd.
“The threat has been eliminated. Rogues made it through the perimeter gates. They got far enough to attack the residential sectors, our main hub, and the elementary school. We will be reinforcing our boundary lines, enacting immediate mandatory border rotations, and reconstruction will begin tomorrow. A mass memorial service will be held for the dead.”
“In the meanwhile, please return to your homes and spend the day with your families. If your home was destroyed, Olivia will help you make arrangements.”
Beside me, my mate snapped to attention. She moved away from me without another word, stepping straight into the fray as displaced families began rushing toward her for direction. The crowd slowly dispersed.
Ethan’s gaze returned to us. He looked at Adea first, his eyes doing the work his words couldn’t—checking every inch of her.
Then he looked at me, and to Odis.
“My office. Give us ten minutes.”
He turned, his hand finding the small of Adea’s back as he guided her away. She glanced back at me once—a look that said hold it together—and then they were gone.
The hall continued to empty around us. Odis passed River to a woman nearby—young, familiar with the handoff, the boy going without protest—and turned back.
He didn’t watch River go.
I did.
We stood in the thinning crowd. When he spoke, his voice was level. “I’m not your enemy.”
“You’re also not stepping aside,” I said. He didn’t answer that. He straightened his jacket, smoothing the torn shoulder, and scoffed. There was a sadness in his side profile, and I hated noticing it.
“The spot beside her is yours.” I stared at him. It wasn’t a concession—his tone held none of the bitterness I would have used. I didn’t know what to do with a man who loved her and stepped back anyway. It made me want to hate him and I couldn’t find the reason.
“Is he yours?” I asked. He looked at me then.
“Yes.” Then he walked toward the elevator without another word.
Splitborn. The word rose up before I could stop it—the one they’d used for me before my mother abandoned me at Half Moon, the one that meant your parents hadn’t been mates, hadn’t even been chosen mates, that you were proof of a joining that never should have been.
I stared at the Beta’s back as I followed.