Layla's pov

"Cameron is a child." Zeke's voice rose now, his Alpha authority bleeding through every word. "He doesn't need to be caught up in adult problems. He doesn't need his mother poisoning his mind against

people he doesn't even know."

"I'm protecting him."

"You're using him." Zeke moved closer to me and I had to fight the urge to step back. "You're using a little boy as a weapon in whatever twisted game you're playing. And I'm

done with it."

"Zeke, please-"

"Go to your quarters, Layla. Now." His tone left no room for argument. "And you're not to speak to Cameron about

Cecelia or Golden again. Is that understood?"

"You can't keep me from my son."

"He's not your son either." The words were brutal in their honesty. "Cameron is the child of another wolf, one you've never bothered to name. You've used him to secure your position here for years, but that's over now. Do you

understand? It's over."

Tears burned my eyes but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of Cecelia, who watched with that same cold expression. Not in front of Zeke, who looked at me like I was

something dirty he needed to scrape off his shoe.

"You'll regret this," I whispered.

"The only thing I regret is not seeing through you sooner." Zeke gestured to the guards. "Escort Miss Layla back to her quarters. She's not to leave without my explicit permission."

The guards moved forward and I had no choice but to go with them. Cameron tried to follow but Zeke held him back gently.

"You'll stay with me for now, Cameron. We need to have a talk about truth and respect."

I looked back as the guards led me away. Cecelia hadn't moved from her spot by the roses. She just stood there watching me with those knowing eyes, probably thinking she'd won.

But she hadn't won. Not yet.

My quarters felt like a cage when

the guards finally left me there with orders to remain inside until Zeke summoned me. I paced the room, my mind racing through possibilities and plans that all ended in disaster.

They'd find the messages on the phone. They'd trace the

payments. They'd connect me to Golden's kidnapping and then what? Exile? Prison? Execution for conspiracy against an Alpha heir?

I grabbed my own phone, the one they hadn't found yet because I kept it on me at all times. There was one number programmed into it, one

contact I'd been instructed to use only in emergencies.

This qualified as an emergency.

The call connected after three rings. "I told you not to contact me unless absolutely necessary."

"We need to move up the timeline." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "She can't stay here. The longer she's in the palace, the more Zeke pulls away from me. I don't care what you have to do, but Cecelia needs to disappear. Permanently this time."

"That wasn't our agreement."

"I'm changing the agreement." I moved to the window, looking down at the garden where Zeke was now sitting with Cameron, talking seriously while the boy nodded. "I'll double your payment. Triple it. Just make her go away."

"And the boy?"

I hesitated. Golden was innocent in all this, just a child like Cameron. But he was also the proof of Zeke's connection to Cecelia, the living reminder that she'd given him something I never could.

"Do what you have to do," I said

finally. "Just make sure neither of them can come back."

"It'll cost you."

"I don't care. Name your price."

We negotiated quickly, my bank accounts draining with each promise I made. But money meant nothing if I lost everything anyway. At least this way, I had a chance. At least this way, Cecelia would finally be gone for good.

After the call ended, I stood at the window watching the garden. Zeke finished his talk with Cameron and sent the boy off with a guard. Then

he just sat there on the bench, his head in his hands, looking more lost than I'd ever seen him.

Part of me wanted to go to him, to offer comfort the way I had so many times over the past three years. But I knew he wouldn't accept it now. Not from me. Not anymore.

The sun was setting when I saw Cecelia return to the garden. She walked slowly, like someone who carried weight they couldn't put down. Zeke must have heard her footsteps because he looked up, and even from this distance I could

see his expression change.

He stood. She stopped several feet away. They didn't touch but I saw the invisible thread pulling between them, the connection I'd never been able to break no matter how hard I

tried.

Zeke said something. Cecelia shook her head. He said something else and she finally moved closer, sitting on the bench beside him but maintaining careful distance.

They talked for a long time as darkness fell around them. I couldn't hear what they said but I

didn't need to. I could see it in the way they slowly relaxed, the way the space between them seemed to shrink without either moving. The way Zeke's hand rested on the bench

between them, so close to hers but not quite touching.

This was what I'd never had with him. Not even before the war, when we'd been young and in love. There had always

been something held back, some part of Zeke that remained closed off to me.

But with Cecelia, even after everything that had happened between them, he was open.

Vulnerable. Real.

I'd already lost. The truth settled into my bones with crushing certainty. Even if I managed to make Cecelia disappear

again, even if Golden never came back, I'd still never have what I wanted. Because Zeke's heart had made its choice years ago and I wasn't it.

But if I couldn't have him, neither could she.

I watched them in the garden until full dark, until they finally stood and walked back toward the palace. Zeke's hand hovered near Cecelia's

lower back, not quite touching but protective. She didn't pull away.

Tomorrow, the plan would be in motion. Tomorrow, my contact would handle things. Tomorrow, Cecelia would learn that coming back from the dead once didn't guarantee you

could do it twice.

I turned away from the window and began packing a small bag, just the essentials. When everything went down, I'd need to be ready to run. Cameron would understand eventually. Or he wouldn't. Either way, I couldn't take him with me where I was going.

The phone on my dresser buzzed with a message from my contact: "Timeline moved to 48 hours. Be ready."

I typed back a single word: "Confirmed."

ZEKES POV

The shouting from the south garden reached my office through the open window. I recognized both voices immediately. Layla's shrill accusations and Cecelia's

measured responses that were starting to fray at the edges.

I was down the stairs and across the courtyard before I consciously decided to move. Something about hearing Cecelia's voice raised in anger made my chest tight with an emotion I couldn't name.

Protectiveness maybe. Or guilt that she was dealing with Layla's poison at all.

The scene in the garden stopped me short. Layla stood with Cameron pressed against her side, using the boy like a

shield. Cecelia faced them both, her clothes damp with water and her expression cold in a way I'd never seen during our

marriage. Back then, she'd always softened when confronted, always tried to make peace.

This Cecelia had learned to bare her teeth.

"What's going on here?" My voice came out harder than I intended

Layla spun toward me, relief flooding her face. "Zeke, thank goodness. This woman was attacking Cameron-"

"She's lying, Papa." Cameron's small voice cut through his mother's words. "I threw rocks and got her wet and she asked me to stop nicely but I called her a name because

Mama said she's trying to replace me."

The air left my lungs. I looked at Layla, waiting for her to deny it, to

explain that Cameron had misunderstood. But she just lifted her chin in that defiant way she had, daring me to challenge

her.

"You told him what?" The words came out quiet but I felt my Alpha authority bleeding into them, making the nearby guards shift nervously.

"I told him the truth." Layla's voice shook but she held her ground. "That woman is trying to take his place in your life. Cameron deserves to know what's happening."

"Cameron is a child." My control was slipping and I didn't care anymore. "He doesn't need to be caught up in adult

problems. He doesn't need his mother poisoning his mind against people he doesn't even know."

"I'm protecting him."

"You're using him." I moved closer to Layla, close enough to see her eyes widen. "You're using a little boy as a weapon in

whatever twisted game you're playing. And I'm done with it."

The confrontation escalated quickly

after that. Layla trying to justify her actions. Me ordering her back to her quarters under guard. Cameron crying because

he'd never heard me speak to his mother that way before.

I kept Cameron with me after the guards took Layla away.

The boy needed to understand what he'd done wrong, but more than that, he needed to know this wasn't his fault.

Children shouldn't be weapons in adult wars.

We sat on one of the garden benches while I explained things as simply as I could. Yes, Cecelia was

someone important from my past. Yes, she had a son who might be my son too. No, that didn't mean Cameron was being replaced. No, Cecelia wasn't trying to hurt anyone.

Cameron listened with the serious expression he got when processing difficult information. "But Mama said-"

"I know what your mama said." I kept my voice gentle even though rage still simmered under my skin. "But sometimes

adults say things they don't mean when they're scared or hurt. Your mama is

scared right now."

"Of what?"

Of losing her place here. Of facing consequences for attempted murder. Of the truth finally catching up with all her lies. But I couldn't say any of that to a nearly four year old.

"Of things changing," I said instead. "Change can be scary. But that doesn't make it okay to be mean to other people."

Cameron nodded slowly. "I'm sorry I called her a bad name."

"You need to apologize to Miss Cecelia, not to me."

"Okay." Cameron hesitated. "Papa? Do you love the ghost

boy more than me?"

The question drove straight into my chest. I pulled Cameron onto my lap, hugging him tight. "I love you, Cameron. That

hasn't changed and it won't change. The other boy, Golden, I don't even know him yet. But he's in danger and needs help. That's why everyone's working so hard to find him."

"Because he's your real son?"

I thought about lying, about softening the blow. But Cameron deserved honesty, even if the truth hurt.

"I don't know if he's my biological son yet," I said carefully. "But even if he is, that doesn't make you less important to me. I raised you. I've been there for every birthday, every

scraped knee, every nightmare. That matters more than biology."

Cameron seemed satisfied with that answer. I sent him off

with a guard to get cleaned up for dinner, watching his small figure disappear into the palace. The boy was

innocent in all this mess. He didn't deserve to be caught between Layla's schemes and my mistakes.

I stayed in the garden after Cameron left, sitting on the bench with my head in my hands. Everything was spiraling

out of control. Golden was still missing. The investigation into Layla was

revealing layers of deception I'd been too blind to see. Cecelia was back in my life, close enough to touch but further away than ever.

And I was failing everyone.

Footsteps on the gravel path made me look up. Cecelia

walked slowly toward the fountain, her damp clothes clinging to her frame. She looked exhausted in a way that went

deeper than lack of sleep.

"I'm sorry about that," I said, standing. "About Layla and Cameron. You shouldn't have had to deal with that."

"It's fine." But her voice said it wasn't fine at all.

"It's not fine. Layla had no right to use Cameron against you. To poison his mind like that." I ran my hand through my hair in frustration.

"I should have seen what she was doing. Should have stopped it before it got this far.

Cecelia moved to the fountain, trailing her fingers through the water. "You can't control everything, Zeke. As much as you try."

"I can control what happens in my own pack house."

"Can you?" She looked at me then, really looked at me. "Because from where I'm standing, things have been out of your control for a long time. Maybe they always were."

The words stung because they

were true. I'd thought I had everything managed. Thought I could keep Layla content while maintaining order, thought I could honor Cecelia's memory while moving forward, thought

I could raise Cameron and lead my pack without anything falling apart.

Instead, everything had fallen apart. I just hadn't noticed because I'd been too busy maintaining the illusion of control.

Zeke's POV.

"This fountain," Cecelia said suddenly. "This is where you told me about the marriage. About choosing me for the

peace treaty."

I remembered. It had been late spring, flowers blooming everywhere, the air sweet with their scent. Cecelia had been so young, barely twenty, trying to look brave while her hands

shook.

"You wore a blue dress," I said before I could stop myself. "You kept twisting your ring around your

finger, the one your father gave you."

"I was terrified." She sat on the edge of the fountain. "I thought you were going to tell me you'd changed your mind. That you'd picked Layla after all."

"Would that have been better?"

She was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know. Maybe. At least then I wouldn't have spent six months falling in love

with someone who didn't want me."

The admission hung between us. I moved closer, sitting on

the

fountain's edge beside her but leaving careful space between us.

"I was cruel to you," I said quietly. "I told myself it was duty, that I was doing what was necessary for the pack. But the

truth is I was a coward."

"Yes, you were." No venom in her voice, just exhaustion. "You were a coward who hurt me because you couldn't

admit you felt something you didn't want to feel."

"I didn't think I deserved to feel anything." The confession escaped before I could contain it. "After what

my father did to yours, after the war that killed so many, I thought I deserved to be miserable. Choosing you was supposed to be my punishment."

"How flattering."

"That came out wrong." I rubbed my face, trying to find words that wouldn't make things worse. "What I meant was I chose you because I thought I could keep my distance.

Thought I could do my duty without getting attached. But

every day with you made that harder."

"So you pushed me away."

"So I pushed you away," I agreed. "Because admitting I cared about you meant admitting I'd been wrong about everything. Wrong about Layla, wrong about duty over

emotion, wrong about who I was supposed to be."

Cecelia pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. She looked younger like that, vulnerable in a way she

rarely allowed anymore.

"I used to sit here after you'd leave for pack business," she said. "I'd imagine what our life could be like if you actually wanted me. If you

looked at me the way you used to look at Layla."

"How did I look at Layla?"

"Like she was the only person in the room. Like nothing else mattered but her." Cecelia's voice went soft. "I wanted that so badly. Just once, I wanted you to look at me like I was

important."

The words cut deeper than any blade could. I remembered those early months of our marriage, how I'd kept myself busy with pack affairs to avoid spending time with her. How I'd come to our bed out of

obligation, left before dawn, spoken to her only when necessary.

I'd treated her like an inconvenience. Like something to be endured rather than cherished.

"I look at you like that now," I said before I could stop myself.

Cecelia's head snapped toward me. "What?"

"Now. I look at you now the way I used to look at Layla." My throat felt tight. "Maybe I always did and was too blind to see it. But I see it now, Cecelia. I see you."

"Don't." She stood abruptly. "Don't do this. Not now, not when Golden is still missing and everything is such a mess."

"When then?" I stood too, unable to help myself. "When are we going to talk about what's between us? Because there is something between us, even if we both keep pretending

there isn't."

"There's nothing between us but history and a child who needs to be found."

"Liar." The word came out softer than I intended. "You feel it too. The bond. It's still there."

Her breath caught. We both knew what I meant. The mate bond we'd rejected three years ago, the one that should have died when I formally ended things. But it hadn't died. It

had just gone dormant, waiting.

Now it hummed between us like a live wire, faint but undeniably present.

"It's not possible," Cecelia whispered. "Rejected bonds don't come back."

"This one did." I took a step closer

and saw her body tense. "Or maybe it never really left. Maybe we can't kill something that was always meant to be."

"Stop talking like that." But she didn't move away. "We're not meant to be anything. We tried that already and it destroyed both of us."

"Then what do you call this?" I gestured between us. "This

pull, this awareness, this constant orbit we're stuck in. If it's not the bond, what is it?"

"Unfinished business." Her voice

shook. "Trauma bonding. Proximity during a crisis. Take your pick."

"It's more than that and you know it."

We stood there as the sun set around us, neither willing to close the distance or increase it. The air between us felt

charged with everything unsaid, everything we were both too afraid or stubborn to acknowledge.

Finally, Cecelia spoke. "Even if the bond did somehow

survive, what would it matter? You broke my heart, Zeke. You told me you

wanted to be free. You chose Layla over me. That doesn't just go away because we're forced to work together now."

"I know." The admission hurt. "I know I broke something that

maybe can't be fixed. But I need you to understand that letting you go was the worst mistake I ever made. Every day

since, I've regretted it."

"That's not fair." Tears shone in her eyes. "You don't get to say things like that after everything that happened. You don't

get to make me hope again when hope is what almost killed me the first time."

"I'm not trying to make you hope. I'm trying to be honest." I wanted to touch her, to wipe away the tears tracking down her face, but I knew she wouldn't welcome it. "Three years

ago I was an idiot who threw away the best thing in his life. I've had three years to realize what I lost. And now you're

here, and Golden is out there somewhere, and I'm terrified I'm going to lose both of you before I get a chance to make

any of it right."

"You can't make it right, Zeke." Her voice cracked. "Some things are too broken to fix."