The Butterfly and the River
Flashback – 14 Years Ago
“Papa! Papa!”
Five-year-old Scarlett tugged insistently at the hem of her father’s shirt, rising onto her tiptoes. Wild dark curls framed her chubby cheeks, and her big green eyes sparkled with pure excitement.
Alpha Atlas continued speaking in low, serious tones to his Beta warriors, ignoring the small hand yanking at his clothes. Scarlett bounced on her feet and tugged harder.
“Papa, look! Look what I found!”
Atlas finally glanced down. His voice cut off mid-word.
The little girl was covered head to toe in mud. Her pretty dress was ruined, streaks of dirt smeared across her face, and her tiny hands were filthy. In her muddy palm, she proudly held up a small, faintly glowing rock.
“Papa, look! It glows! Like magic!”
For a split second, something raw, grief, disgust, pain twisted across Ronan’s sharp features. Then it hardened into cold fury.
“What happened to your body, Scarlett?” he snapped.
Scarlett blinked up at him, startled. She stepped back, clutching the glowing rock tighter to her chest.
“What did I tell you about dirtying yourself up like some street pup?” His voice was ice.
“I..I forgot…” she whispered, her lower lip trembling.
“Give me the back of your hand.”
Tears welled in her bright green eyes, eyes that looked so painfully like her late mother’s. “No, no… sorry Papa, I forgot..”
“Give me.*”
Trembling, Scarlett slowly extended her small right hand, palm down. Atlas brought his own hand down hard, two sharp, stinging smacks on the back of it. The sound cracked through the hall.
Scarlett cried out, snatching her hand back and cradling it against her chest as tears spilled down her muddy cheeks.
“Where is Assunta?!” He barked.
The Omega caretaker rushed in, her face paling at the sight of the sobbing child. “I’m sorry, Alpha,” she said quickly, bowing her head.
Atlas looked at his daughter with chilling detachment. “Keep her from my sight. I don’t want to see her like this again.”
Assunta nodded and scooped Scarlett into her arms, uncaring that mud stained her own clothes. The little girl buried her face in the caretaker’s shoulder, her small body shaking with sobs as they hurried away.
In the quiet safety of the room, Assunta sat Scarlett on the edge of the tub and ran warm water. She gently washed the mud from the child’s face, hands, and tangled curls while Scarlett sniffled.
“I’ve told you so many times, little one,” Assunta murmured sadly, “to stay away when the Alpha is busy.”
Scarlett looked up with those wide, innocent, tear-filled green eyes. “But… I’m Papa’s daughter, right? Why doesn’t he like me?”
Assunta’s heart clenched. She saw the late Luna so clearly in this child, the same dark curls, the same gentle spirit, the same bright light.
Five years after losing his mate in childbirth, Alpha Atlas was still drowning in grief and guilt.
Every glance at Scarlett reminded him of the wife he lost…
and the daughter he secretly blamed for taking her.
Assunta pulled the little girl into a warm, soapy hug.
“Your Papa loves you,” she whispered, even if the words felt heavy.
“He’s just… very sad. He misses your Mama terribly. Sometimes grown-ups get lost in their pain and forget how to show love the right way. But that doesn’t mean you’re not lovable, my sweet girl. You are so very loved, by me, by the Moon Goddess, and by the pack that watches over you. One day…
you will be loved the way you deserve.”
Scarlett sniffled, resting her damp head on Assunta’s shoulder. “Promise?”
Assunta kissed the top of her wet curls, eyes stinging. “I promise, little one. You’re going to grow into something beautiful. And the world will love you, even if he can’t right now.”
Outside in the hallway, Alpha Atlas stood motionless for a long moment, listening to his daughter’s muffled sobs. His fists clenched tightly at his sides.
Then he turned sharply and walked away.
*****
A few days later, little Scarlett played alone in the big yard behind the pack house.
The sun was warm on her skin as she chased after a bright yellow butterfly that fluttered just out of reach. Her small legs pumped fast, her dress flapping around her knees.
“Hi, pretty butterfly!” she called happily, giggling as she reached out with both hands. “Wait for me!”
The butterfly danced higher, then fluttered deeper into the woods behind the yard. Scarlett didn’t hesitate. She ran after it, laughing, calling out, “Come back! I just want to see you!”
She kept running, deeper and deeper, not noticing how the trees grew taller and the house disappeared behind her. The butterfly kept leading her on, always just a little too far.
Until suddenly… it was gone.
Scarlett stopped, breathing hard, looking around.
Trees. Only trees. Tall, dark, and everywhere. No house. No yard. No Assunta.
“A… Assunta?” she called, voice small. “Papa?”
No answer.
Just the wind rustling leaves and strange sounds, twigs snapping, birds cawing, something moving in the bushes.
Scarlett’s bottom lip trembled. “Assunta… where are you?”
She turned in a circle, eyes wide and scared. Then she heard it.
A low, deep growl.
“Papa…?” she whispered hopefully, turning toward the sound.
Two glowing red eyes stared at her from the shadows between the trees.
Scarlett remembered what Assunta always told her: *Never wander too deep into the woods, little one. If something in the forest frightens you, run straight back toward home and don't stop for anything.*
She ran.
Her little legs carried her as fast as they could, tears streaming down her face. She could hear something big crashing through the bushes behind her, getting closer.
“Papa! Assunta! Help!” she cried.
Her foot caught on a root.
She screamed as she tripped forward, tumbling down a steep bank and splashing hard into a fast-moving river.
The cold water swallowed her instantly.
She flailed, choking, trying to reach the surface, but the current was too strong. It pulled her under.
The last thing she remembered was the water rushing over her head… and darkness closing in.
******
When Scarlett woke up, she was lying on soft grass.
Her dress was soaked. Her body hurt and her lungs burned.
Wide brown eyes were looking down at her.
A little boy, maybe a year or two older than her, with messy brown hair and curious eyes, knelt beside her, tilting his head.
“Are you okay?” the boy whispered.
Scarlett blinked slowly, coughing up water, still scared and confused.
Behind the boy, something moved in the trees.
A low growl echoed again.
The brown-eyed boy turned h head sharply toward the sound, fear flashing across his face.
“Run,” He whispered urgently to Scarlett. “They’re coming.”