Ethan stayed another hour with Aurora, unwilling to let go of the small, warm weight of her presence. Every minute felt like a quiet apology, every shared breath a promise he was afraid to put into words.
Eventually, he had to leave. Natasha would be waiting at the house, waiting with her practiced smile and that bright, eager voice she used when she wanted something. The thought of it made his skin crawl. Part of him wanted to take Aurora somewhere far away and pretend none of it existed. But he couldn’t.
There was an intruder in his home, in his pack, in his child’s life, and it was his responsibility to remove her. So he rose, pressed a kiss to Aurora’s hair, and turned back toward the Blackwood estate. This time, not to surrender to fate, but to end it.
Natasha was pacing the foyer
