Natalia
My father.
That was impossible.
If I had a father, a father who was alive and well… Then why the hell did I wind up in an orphanage?
The rage in my face must have shown, because the man’s expression crumpled further. “I can explain. You were taken from us when you were barely three months old. Stolen in the night.”
Stolen. Not abandoned. Not unwanted. Stolen.
“I spent my formative years in foster care thinking my parents didn’t want me,” I whispered.
“We never stopped looking,” the man said quietly. “Never stopped hoping we’d find you alive.”
I wanted to ask more questions, wanted to understand how this was possible, but Max’s unconscious form in David’s arms reminded me why we were here. Everything else could wait.
“My son,” I said, looking between the Alpha, David, and
