ASHER'S POV
I throw up in the airport parking garage.
My hands are shaking so badly I can barely get my car door open. The moment I'm inside, I lean over and vomit into the bag from the flower shop—the one that held ninety-nine roses I never got to give him.
Those children have my eyes.
Silver. Thornwell silver. The same shade that's been in my family for six generations. There's no mistaking it.
I have children. And another man calls himself their Papa.
Another wave of nausea hits, but there's nothing left to throw up. I'm gasping, sweating, my wolf howling so loudly inside my head I can barely think.
CUBS! OURS! GO BACK! GET THEM!
"I can't," I choke out. "He won't let me near them."
THEN FIGHT!
But I can't fight Ezra. Not after what I did to him.
My phone rings. Marcus. I answer on speaker because my hands won't stop shaking enough to hold it.
"Boss? You okay? You sound—"
"I need you to find out everything about Kai Volkov." My voice comes out raw. "Everything. His pack, his business, his connection to Ezra. And the children—Lily and Lucas. I need their birth certificates, medical records, everything you can legally access."
Silence. Then: "Asher, what happened?"
"Just do it!" I snap, then immediately feel guilty. Marcus is my friend, not just my assistant. "Please. I'll explain later. Just... I need this information now."
"Okay. Give me two hours."
He hangs up. I sit in my car in the dark parking garage, surrounded by the smell of vomit and roses, and try to remember how to breathe.
The penthouse is exactly how I left it this morning—empty and cold. Seventy floors up with a view of the entire city, and it's the loneliest place on Earth.
I head straight for my bedroom, for the drawer I haven't opened in five years. Inside is a small box with photos I couldn't throw away.
My hands shake as I pull them out.
There's Ezra at the spring formal, laughing at something I said. His eyes are bright, full of trust. Full of love.
There's us at the lake, his head on my shoulder, both of us happy.
There's one from graduation morning—before everything went wrong. He's smiling at the camera, but he's looking at me. Like I'm his whole world.
I was his whole world. And I destroyed it.
"They're mine," I whisper to the empty room. "Those children are mine."
The math is simple. They look about four, maybe just turned four. Ezra left five years ago in June. Which means...
Oh god.
He was pregnant at graduation. When I broke up with him in front of everyone, he was carrying my children and I didn't know.
No—worse. He probably didn't know yet either. Most Omegas don't find out until six or seven weeks, and we broke up right after finals.
Which means Ezra found out he was pregnant days or weeks after I publicly humiliated him. Alone. Without his pack. Without his mate.
Without me.
My wolf lets out a howl of pure anguish. I fall to my knees on the bedroom floor, the photos scattering around me.
"I'm sorry," I sob to the empty air. "I'm so sorry."
But sorry doesn't change anything. Sorry doesn't give me back five years. Sorry doesn't erase the terror Ezra must have felt, pregnant and alone in a world that treats unmated Omegas like garbage.
My phone buzzes. Marcus, already.
"Boss, we have a problem. Call me."
I dial immediately. "What is it?"
"Kai Volkov is Alpha of the Volkov Pack. Very progressive, very wealthy, very powerful. He's been publicly linked to Ezra for about two years—charity galas, business events, all of it. They look like a committed couple."
Each word is a knife. "And the children?"
"Birth certificates list only Ezra as parent. Father line is blank. But here's the thing, Asher—the children were born in a charity hospital three states away. No pack support listed. Medical records show Ezra nearly died during delivery. Emergency C-section, severe complications."
The room spins. "He almost died?"
"Yeah. And get this—he was completely alone. No family, no pack, no mate listed as emergency contact. Just a friend named Sophie Chen who showed up afterward."
He almost died bringing my children into the world, and I wasn't there.
I'm going to be sick again.
"There's more," Marcus continues carefully. "I did some digging into the timeline. Your mother's assistant made several large payments to a private investigator five years ago, right around graduation. Want to guess what he was investigating?"
My blood turns to ice. "What?"
"Ezra's mother. Her job, her apartment, her immigration status—everything. Your mother was building a case to destroy her."
The memory hits me like a freight train.
Graduation day. Six AM. My mother's office.
"Asher, we need to discuss your... relationship."
"Mother, I'm not breaking up with Ezra. I love him."
"Love." She said it like a dirty word. "That Omega has no pack, no family worth mentioning. His mother is a seamstress living in the slums. Do you know what marrying him would do to our standing?"
"I don't care about standing!"
"Then care about this." She slid a folder across the desk. "Ezra's mother is here on an expired work visa. One call to immigration, and she's deported. She'll lose everything—her job, her apartment, any chance of coming back legally."
"You wouldn't."
"I would. Unless you end this relationship. Publicly. Today. Make it clear the Omega was never serious to you. Just a college fling you're moving past."
"That's cruel. Mother, he's my mate—"
"He's an anchor around your neck!" Her voice turned sharp. "End it, or I destroy his mother's life. Your choice."
I chose wrong.
I thought I was protecting Ezra's mother. I thought a clean break would be kinder than dragging it out. I thought if I made him hate me, he could move on and be happy.
I thought I was being selfless.
I was a coward.
"Boss?" Marcus's voice pulls me back. "You still there?"
"Yeah." My voice sounds dead. "Send me everything you found. All of it."
"There's one more thing."
"What?"
"Kai Volkov's first mate died three years ago. Cancer. He never completed the bond, so he didn't die with her, but... he's got a reputation for being genuinely good. Takes in rogues, fights for Omega rights, volunteers at shelters. If Ezra chose him, he chose well."
Of course he did. Ezra always had a good heart. He'd find someone worthy.
Someone who isn't me.
I hang up and stare at the photos scattered across my floor. At Ezra's smiling face that I'll never see again. At the happiness I threw away because I was too weak to fight for it.
My wolf snarls: Not too late. FIGHT NOW.
"It is too late," I whisper.
CUBS ARE OURS. MATE IS OURS. FIGHT!
And suddenly, something clicks into place. A cold, hard determination that cuts through the grief.
Yes, I destroyed everything five years ago. Yes, Ezra has every right to hate me. Yes, another man has been there for my children when I wasn't.
But those are MY cubs. My son and daughter. My blood, my pack, my responsibility.
And Ezra is my mate. The Moon Goddess chose us for each other. That bond doesn't just disappear because I was too stupid to honor it.
I don't care if it takes years. I don't care if I have to grovel in front of the entire city. I don't care if Kai Volkov is a saint who's been perfect while I was absent.
I'm getting my family back.
I pull out my phone and dial my lawyer. He answers on the third ring, groggy.
"Daniel, it's Asher. I need you to prepare custody paperwork."
"What? Asher, it's midnight. Custody for what?"
"For my children. I just found out I'm a father. Twins, four years old. I need legal options for visitation and parental rights."
"That's... complicated. Is the other parent cooperating?"
I look at the photos of Ezra's smiling face—the smile I killed.
"No. But I don't care what I have to do. Those are my children, and I've already missed four years of their lives." My voice turns hard. "I'm not missing another day."
Daniel is quiet for a moment. "If you're serious about this, you need to understand—custody battles are brutal. Especially when one parent has been absent. The courts favor stability."
"The children are MINE."
"Biology isn't always enough. If this Omega has another partner who's been acting as parent, if the children see him as their father—"
"I don't care!" My Alpha dominance rolls through the phone. "Find a way. That's what I pay you for."
"Alright. I'll need all the information you have. Names, dates, locations—"
"I'll send it in an hour."
I hang up and stare at my reflection in the dark window. I look terrible—wild-eyed, desperate, dangerous.
Good.
Because Ezra Quinlan is about to learn that the biggest mistake of his life wasn't loving me.
It was thinking I'd let him walk away with my children.