The next morning, I arrived at the bakery before dawn, my hands working the dough with practiced precision. Every punch and fold helped quiet the storm raging inside me since yesterday's encounter. Luna was still cowering in the recesses of my mind, whimpering occasionally at the memory of Ethan's scent.

"You're going to murder that poor dough," Clara commented as she tied her apron. My only human friend and employee raised an eyebrow at me. "Same nightmare again?"

I forced a smile. "Something like that."

What I couldn't tell her was that my nightmare had walked through the front door yesterday, in an expensive suit with eyes that still haunted me. That the father of my child had stood mere inches from me, and neither of us had said what needed to be said.

The bell chimed precisely at eight, and a tall, broad-shouldered man with a stern expression entered. I recognized him immediately—Leo, Ethan's Gamma. My stomach dropped.

"Good morning," he said formally. "I'm here to pick up an order for the Silvermoon Pack. Alpha Ethan requested two dozen assorted pastries for pack training."

I felt Clara's curious gaze on me as I stiffened. Pack training? The Silvermoon territory was at least thirty minutes away. These pastries would be cold by the time they arrived.

"I don't recall receiving an order," I said carefully.

Leo's expression remained neutral. "It was placed last night. The Alpha was quite specific."

Of course he was. This wasn't about pastries—this was Ethan marking his territory, sending his scent into my space. My wolf trembled, caught between longing and fear.

"I'll box them up," I muttered, turning away before Leo could see the flush creeping up my neck.

As I filled the box, Danny emerged from the back room where he'd been coloring. His little nose twitched, and he looked toward Leo with undisguised curiosity.

"You smell like the coffee man," he announced.

Leo's eyes widened slightly as they fixed on my son, no doubt noting the dark hair and strong jawline that mirrored his Alpha's. I quickly ushered Danny back toward the kitchen.

"Go finish your drawing, sweetie," I said, my voice tight.

When I handed Leo the box, our eyes met briefly. There was knowledge there, and something like sympathy.

"The Alpha sends his regards," he said quietly. "He'll be requiring daily orders from now on."

And so began the siege.

Every morning for the next week, Leo arrived precisely at eight to collect Ethan's order. Each day, the pastries were different, but the message was the same: I am here. I am not going away.

"You're going to break that rolling pin," Clara observed on the seventh day, watching me attack a sheet of puff pastry. "Want to tell me what's really going on with Mr. Daily Order?"

I sighed, my hands trembling slightly as I set down the pin. "It's complicated."

"The way you react when his man comes in? The way your son sniffs the air after he leaves? Doesn't seem that complicated to me." Clara crossed her arms. "He's Danny's father, isn't he?"

The dough beneath my fingers tore. "How did you—"

"I have eyes, Sophia. And that guy who spilled coffee all over himself last week? He looked at Danny like he was seeing a ghost."

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of five years of secrets pressing down on me. "He doesn't know. About Danny."

"Don't you think he should?"

Before I could answer, the bell chimed—not at eight, but at ten, when the morning rush had cleared. My head snapped up, and there he was.

Ethan stood in the doorway, alone this time. No Leo, no buffer between us. His Alpha aura filled the small space, making the few remaining customers shift uncomfortably in their seats.

Clara squeezed my arm. "I'll watch Danny," she whispered, disappearing into the back.

Ethan approached the counter, placing a silver box on its surface—one of my own bakery boxes, returned. His fingers brushed mine as he pressed a single cherry tart into my palm.

"Your favorite," he said quietly. "You used to make these just for me."

The touch of his skin against mine sent an electric current up my arm. Luna stirred, lifting her head for the first time in days, drawn to the mate bond that still pulsed between us.

I stepped back instinctively, clutching the tart like it might burn me. "What do you want, Ethan?"

His eyes—those piercing eyes that had once looked at me with such tenderness—hardened slightly. "Five years of answers would be a start."

The tart crumbled in my grip as I fought to keep my composure. "I don't owe you anything."

"Don't you?" he challenged, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Your scent hasn't changed, Sophia. You're still my mate. My wolf still recognizes you." His gaze flicked toward the kitchen door. "And now there's another scent. One that's... familiar, yet not."

My blood turned to ice. How much did he suspect? How close was I to losing everything I'd built?

I spent the rest of the day in a fog, mechanically kneading dough and serving customers while my mind raced with questions. What did Ethan want? How much did he suspect about Danny? The tart he'd given me sat untouched in the back room, a painful reminder of happier times.

When closing time finally came, I exhaled with relief. Clara had taken Danny to the park after his afternoon snack, and they would be back any minute. I just needed to get home, lock the door, and figure out what to do next.

The bell chimed as I was wiping down the last table. My heart stuttered when I looked up to see Ethan standing outside on the sidewalk, his powerful frame silhouetted against the setting sun. He wasn't looking at me, though. His attention was fixed on something down the street.

Danny's excited voice reached me before I could see him. "Mommy! We saw ducks!"

I rushed to the door, panic clawing at my chest, but it was too late. Danny had broken free from Clara's grip and was running—straight toward Ethan.

"Hey! You're the coffee man!" Danny exclaimed, skidding to a halt in front of him. My son tilted his head back to look up at Ethan, his small face alight with curiosity. "You smell nice."

Ethan's expression softened as he crouched down to Danny's level, his Alpha aura instinctively gentling. "Thank you. You smell nice too, pup."

I froze in the doorway, watching my carefully constructed worlds collide. Luna whined anxiously in my mind, torn between protecting our pup and the undeniable pull toward our mate.

"Will you come to dinner tonight?" Danny blurted out, bouncing on his toes with excitement.

"Danny!" I finally found my voice, hurrying forward to grab his hand. "I'm sorry, he doesn't usually—"

"I'd love to," Ethan replied, his eyes meeting mine over Danny's head. There was something dangerous in his gaze—not anger, but determination. The look of an Alpha who had found what belonged to him.

Clara appeared beside me, shooting me an apologetic glance. "Sorry, he just took off."

"It's fine," I said automatically, though nothing about this situation was fine.

"Seven o'clock?" Ethan asked, rising to his full height. "I'll bring dessert."

Before I could formulate a refusal, Danny was tugging at my hand. "Please, Mommy? He can try my dinosaur puzzle!"

Trapped between my son's hopeful face and Ethan's unwavering stare, I surrendered. "Seven it is."

---

Our apartment above the bakery had never felt so small. I moved frantically around the kitchen, stirring pasta sauce while trying to tidy up Danny's scattered toys. My hands trembled slightly as I set three plates on our tiny table—a family tableau I'd never allowed myself to imagine.

"Is he your friend?" Danny asked, carefully arranging his dinosaur figurines on the coffee table.

I hesitated, searching for words that wouldn't be lies but wouldn't reveal too much. "We... knew each other a long time ago."

"Before I was born?"

"Yes, sweetie. Before you were born."

Danny nodded thoughtfully. "His wolf is big. I can feel it."

My breath caught. Danny's wolf instincts were developing early—another sign of his Alpha heritage. "Remember what I told you about keeping wolf talk private?"

"I know, Mommy. Only with you." He grinned, revealing the gap where he'd lost his first tooth last week.

The knock came precisely at seven. I smoothed my hair, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Ethan stood there holding a bakery box—not from my shop, but from an upscale patisserie across town. He'd changed into dark jeans and a charcoal sweater that made his shoulders look even broader. His eyes swept over me, lingering on my face before moving past to take in our modest home.

"Come in," I said, stepping aside.

Danny immediately bounded up. "I'm Danny! I'm five and a half. Do you like dinosaurs?"

Ethan's smile transformed his face, softening the hard lines of authority. "I do. T-Rex is my favorite."

"Mine too!" Danny exclaimed, grabbing Ethan's hand to pull him toward his collection.

I watched from the kitchen as Ethan lowered himself to the floor beside my son, handling the plastic dinosaurs with exaggerated care. His eyes kept returning to Danny's face, studying the shape of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the hazel eyes that—as I knew all too well—mirrored the golden glow of Ethan's wolf.

Dinner was a surreal experience. Danny chattered about school and his friends, while Ethan listened with genuine interest, asking questions and laughing at my son's animated stories. I remained mostly silent, pushing pasta around my plate, acutely aware of Ethan's occasional glances in my direction.

After Danny had demolished his spaghetti and been excused to play, Ethan finally turned his full attention to me.

"Why did you leave, Sophia?" he asked quietly, his voice lacking the Alpha command I'd expected. "One day you were there, the next you were gone. No explanation, no goodbye."

I set down my fork, meeting his gaze steadily. "You never called or tried to find me."

"I searched for months," he countered, leaning forward. "You severed our mind-link. Do you have any idea what that did to me? To my wolf?"

"What about what you did to me?" I whispered fiercely, mindful of Danny in the next room. "You chose Vanessa—"

"I never chose Vanessa," Ethan interrupted, his eyes flashing with sudden anger. "There was no ceremony. There never would have been. My wolf refuses to acknowledge anyone but you."

The world seemed to tilt beneath me. "But she said—"

"Whatever she told you was a lie," he said firmly. "You are my mate, Sophia. The only one my wolf has ever accepted."

I stared at him, my carefully constructed reality crumbling around me. If what he was saying was true, then I had spent five years running from a betrayal that never happened.

And Danny had spent five years without a father he deserved to know.