Too Late to Choose Us

The day Oliver was born, Kevin Adams took one look at him before hurrying toward the door. "I've got an emergency council meeting. I have to go." With that, he placed the baby into my arms. But the second Oliver touched me, he woke up. He burst into heart-wrenching sobs, crying even harder than he had right after birth. No matter how I rocked him or soothed him, nothing worked. Kevin frowned anxiously and reached out to take him back. The instant Oliver was in his father's arms, he stopped crying. His tiny hand grabbed Kevin's collar and refused to let go. Kevin and I exchanged a look. "Do you really have to go?" Kevin stared at the little face flushed bright red in his arms. After a long silence, he sighed. "I'm staying." Half an hour later, news came in. The council chamber Kevin had been scheduled to attend had been ambushed during the night. An assassin's blade had crashed through the window and struck the exact seat reserved for him. The chair had been split nearly in half. If Kevin had been sitting there, he would've been killed. My chest tightened as I looked at Oliver. His little hand had finally let go of Kevin's collar. He was fast asleep. That was the first sign that Oliver wasn't an ordinary child. Kevin, however, never noticed. He simply figured he'd been unusually lucky lately. Life went on. When Oliver turned three, one of Kevin's closest teammates was killed in the line of duty, leaving behind his widow, Stacey White, and their newborn son, Matt. Kevin started spending more and more time with them. He brought groceries, repaired things around their house, and took Matt to doctor's appointments. Every single time, he'd explain himself. "Stacey's raising a baby all by herself. It's too much for one person. I can't just ignore them. Helping out is the least I can do." I heard those words over and over again. At first, I understood. But I kept watching Oliver climb up at the window and wait for his Alpha father to come home. Night after night. And every night, nobody came. Something in me got a little colder each time. No kid should spend his childhood at a window waiting for a father who never walks through the door. That month a virus tore through the pack, and it hit the little ones hardest. I reached for Kevin through the mate bond. "Oliver's running a fever. Come home." It was a minute before he answered. "Stacey just called. Matt's fever is really high. I'm going to go help. I won't be home tonight." I had the phone gripped so hard my fingers ached. I had no idea what I was going to tell Oliver. Oliver was burning with a fever too. Yet his father chose to take care of someone else's child. Oliver stirred weakly in bed and glanced toward the bedroom door. In a tiny, shaky voice, he whispered, "Mom..." I hurried to his side. His eyes were watery as he asked, "Mom... does Daddy love Matt more than me?" My heart shattered. I wrapped my burning-hot little boy tightly in my arms. Before Oliver was born, the tribe's seer had secretly told me something. Oliver was a once-in-a-century child blessed by fate. He had been born with the power to help an Alpha rise to the throne. But in thirty days, Kevin would lose that blessing forever.