5
The bakery was dark by the time Rylan returned. The sign had been flipped to Closed, and the smell of warm bread lingered like memory in the air. He pushed open the door, the bell chiming softly above him. No guards, no wolves. Just him.
Evanna stood behind the counter, arms crossed over her chest, flour still dusting her apron, but there was nothing soft about her now.
Only tension.
And guilt.
She didn’t speak at first. Neither did he.
Rylan stepped forward slowly, careful not to startle her. “You said she’s not mine.”
“She’s not,” she said too quickly.
“You hesitated.”
Evanna’s jaw clenched. “Because I didn’t expect you to show up here. Not now. Not ever.”
“And yet she ran straight to me. Called me Daddy. Said she dreams about me.”
“Kids make up things all the time.”
He took another step. “She has my eyes.”
Evanna looked away.
“She has your fire, Evanna. She doesn’t just look like me. She carries something—wild. I felt it the second I stood near her.”
“You’re imagining it.”
“No,” he said, voice low. “I know it. The way she watched me. The way my wolf stirred the second I saw her.”
Evanna’s breath hitched. Her eyes shimmered but held their ground. “You have no right.”
Rylan blinked. “No right to know if I have a daughter?”
“No right to come back and tear everything apart!” she snapped. “You don’t get to play the hero now. You don’t get to show up and claim her like she’s a prize you left behind.”
His voice dropped. “You think I left you?”
“You didn’t even remember me!”
Rylan stilled.
And there it was. The crack in her voice. The real wound.
“I woke up in that castle alone,” she said quietly. “No note. No ‘thank you.’ No goodbye. Just empty sheets and a memory I was stupid enough to believe meant something. You went back to your life, and I… I had to build a new one.”
He stepped closer, softer now. “Evanna… I never meant to hurt you.”
She laughed, but it wasn’t funny. “You didn’t even remember my name.”
“I did,” he said. “Eventually. It haunted me for weeks. You haunted me. I thought I imagined you.”
Evanna looked down at the counter like it might protect her from the weight of his voice. “And what happens if she is yours? Hmm? You declare her an heir? Take her back to your castle? Make her into something she’s not ready to be?”
“She deserves to know where she came from.”
“She deserves to be safe,” Evanna whispered. “And loved. Without the pressure of bloodlines and territory and enemies trying to use her against you.”
That hit him hard.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
Evanna’s eyes finally lifted, softer now. Sadder. “I wasn’t trying to punish you, Rylan. I was trying to protect her.”
Rylan exhaled slowly. “Let me get to know her. Please. Let her decide who I am.”
Evanna’s resolve faltered.
“She’s already decided,” she whispered. “She dreams of you. She talks to the moon like it’s waiting for you to answer. No matter what I do, she knows.”
Silence fell again, heavy with a thousand unsaid things.
“I’m not asking for the crown,” he said. “I’m asking for my daughter.”
Evanna’s lip trembled. She blinked fast.
“You want the truth?” she asked, voice trembling. “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid. Not of you hurting her—but of you loving her so much you’d take her away. That I wouldn’t matter anymore.”
Rylan stepped forward, gently brushing his fingers against hers on the counter. “You mattered, Evanna. You still do.”
And there it was again—that electricity.
That bond they thought had vanished.
But it had only gone quiet.
Evanna pulled her hand away. “You can see her tomorrow. I won’t stop you. But I still don’t know what this means. For her. For us.”
“I do,” he said simply.
She looked at him, and for the first time in five years… she didn’t look away.