Dahlia's POV
The air in my small front garden didn't just feel charged; it felt like it had been sucked out of the world.
Nate stood like a statue carved from obsidian. His frantic energy; the desperate Alpha who had come to save his dying elder had vanished, it was now replaced by a silence so heavy it made my ears ring.
His gaze was no longer on me. It was pinned to the three small humans clutching my jeans.
I felt the triplets' fear through our bond. They didn't know who this man was, but they could feel his power. It was a roar they could hear with their souls; a frequency only wolves could tune into. Even without their shifts, their instincts were screaming.
"Dahlia?" he whispered again. His voice wasn't the command of an Alpha anymore. It was broken, raw and unfiltered.
"What... what are they? Whose are they?"
I felt the panic rising, threatening to sweep away heats of careful planning and hiding. ButI choked it down, replacing it with the cold, sterile mask of Dr. Willow. I shifted my body, physically blocking his line of sight to the children.
"They are my children, Nate," I said, my voice as steady as a surgeon's hand. "And you are trespassing on private property."
Nate flinched as if I'd struck him. He staggered back a step, his hand reaching out instinctively. "They have my scent, Dahlia. Sandalwood and lightning. I can feel the pull in my marrow. These are my heirs. You were pregnant when you left? When I... when I let you go?"
I let out a sharp, mocking laugh that sounded brittle even to my own ears. I needed him to believe the lie. I needed it to be the only truth he knew.
"You think every dark-haired child in the city belongs to you? Your ego is as massive as it was six years ago." I spat, my eyes flashing with a bitterness that wasn't faked.
I felt Aidan's small hand tighten on my leg. I looked Nate dead in the eyes, hardening my heart against the grief I saw there.
"My children have a father, Alpha. A man who loved them before they were even born. A man who stayed when things got difficult. A man who didn't need a Moon Goddess to tell him who to cherish."
Nate froze, his eyes widening. "What?"
"I met someone months after I arrived in the city," I lied, the words tasting like ash but coming out smooth as silk.
"A human doctor. Dr. Mark Vance. He was kind, stable, and he didn't care about ranks or 'fated' nonsense. He passed away in an accident two years ago, but he gave these children his name and his heart."
Nate's face went a sickly shade of grey. "No. That's impossible. Their scent—"
"Their scent is a side effect of my work," I countered, stepping towards him.
"I spend twelve hours a day treating shifters. Their scent clings to me, to my house, to my children. What you're feeling isn't a 'bond,' Nate. It's your own guilt projecting itself onto three innocent human children."
"Human?" Nate breathed, looking at Axel, who was watching him with a quiet, observant curiosity. "They don't look human."
"They look like their mother," I snapped. "Now, Sinclair!"
Mr. Sinclair stepped out from the porch, his face was a mask of cold professionalism.
He walked over and placed a hand on Aidan's shoulder. "Dahlia, the children should go inside. I'll handle the guest."
Nate looked at Sinclair, then back at me, his wolf snarling in defense. I could see the golden flicker in his eyes; the Alpha wanting to challenge the man touching his supposed blood. But Sinclair didn't flinch. He led the children toward the door.
"Mommy, is the man going to hurt you?" Ariana asked, her lower lip trembling.
"No, sweetie. He's just leaving," I said, not looking back until I heard the click of the front door lock.
He was desperate to believe his senses, but my conviction was an iron wall. I had been a rankless omega; I knew how to hide my truth until it became a second skin.
Before he could demand a blood test or force his way into the house, his phone began to vibrate. The caller ID; the "Pack Hospital" forced the world back in.
"Speak," he growled, though his eyes never left my face. His expression shifted from shock to a grim, professional look as the news from the other end hit him. "I understand. Prepare the theater. I am bringing her."
He ended the call, hands shaking so much he almost dropped the device.
"Elder Thomas is in cardiac arrest. He is the heart of the Silver-Crest council. I am not asking you as an Alpha, Dahlia. I am asking as a man who knows you are the only one who can save him."
I said nothing and just watched him. When he saw that I wasn't convinced, he tried to explain further.
"He's the only one holding the peace between the factions. If he dies tonight, the pack will fracture. Gina's father will move for a vote of no confidence."
"I am a human doctor's widow now, Nate," I said, the lie feeling heavier with every breath. "I don't care about your council."
"Please," he whispered. It was the first time I had ever heard that word from his lips.
I looked at my children, then at Sinclair. "Keep them inside. Don't let anyone in." Then, I turned back to Nate, my voice dropping to a low, lethal warning.
"I will save the Elder because I am a doctor. But don't mistake my mercy for a reunion. My children have a father's memory to protect, and it doesn't involve you."
As I walked toward his SUV, Nate stayed behind for a second, watching Aidan. My son didn't wave. He didn't smile. He just watched the Alpha with a cold, calculating stare.
Nate climbed into the driver's seat, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He didn't look at me, but I could smell his scent. It was thick with the smell of salt and scorched earth. He was grieving a family he didn't even know he'd lost twice.
I was the one holding the scalpel now, and I could cut him whenever I chose.