The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate

Chapter 10: Recognition

Jason POV

"I am. How can I help you?"

"My toy is missing. Can you help me find it?"

Everything in me wanted to say yes. Had to say yes. The need was overwhelming. Instinctive.

"What toy?"

"My other rabbit. The little one." She held up the stuffed animal in her arms. Worn from years of love. "This is Big Bunny, but Little Bunny is gone, and Big Bunny gets lonely without him."

Something about the way she said it. There was a genuine concern in her voice. Made my wolf pace restlessly under my skin. Protective instincts firing.

"Can't have Big Bunny getting lonely," I said. Meant it too. "Let's find Little Bunny."

We searched the pediatric ward for twenty minutes. Ava talked the whole time. Her voice made the sterile corridors feel warmer somehow. More alive. Like she brought color to gray places.

Her hand slipped into mine when she got tired.

"You have big hands," she observed, comparing our palms. "Mama says people with big hands are good at fixing things."

"What kind of things does your mama need fixed?"

"Lots of things. Our sink makes weird noises. And the heater doesn't work very well." She paused. Thought about it seriously. "But mostly I think she needs someone to help her not be so tired all the time."

The casual way she said it. Like it was just a fact of life. Made something ache in my chest.

"Do you have children?" she asked while we checked behind a chair.

"No." The word felt strange. Wrong. Like it didn't belong in my mouth.

"Why not? You seem like you'd be a good daddy."

The comment nearly knocked the air right out of me. "How can you tell?"

"You're patient. And you helped me even though you're probably busy." She tilted her head. "Mama says the best daddies make time for little things."

My throat went tight. "Your mama sounds wise."

"She is. She takes care of everyone." Ava's face got serious. Too serious for a six-year-old. Like she carried burdens that shouldn't be hers. "But she's really busy because she has to take care of me all by herself. She gets very tired."

"Where's your daddy?"

"I don't have one. Just Mama." She said it matter-of-factly. Like it was normal. "She says some families are just different."

The thought of this little girl alone made something fierce rise in my chest. Protective.

"That must be scary sometimes."

"A little bit. But Mama says brave girls can handle being alone." She dropped her voice to a whisper. Like sharing a secret. "I'm having heart surgery soon."

My blood went cold. Ice in my veins. "Heart surgery?"

"Uh-huh. The doctors say it's not scary, but Mama cries when she thinks I'm not looking." Her voice got smaller. Vulnerable.

The pieces clicked into place. Single mother. Working constantly to pay for her daughter's medical care.

We found Little Bunny behind a vending machine. Took all my Alpha strength to fish the small toy out. Ava's face lit up when I handed it to her. Pure joy. The kind that could power the whole hospital.

"Thank you, Mr. Jason! You're really good at finding things." She hugged both rabbits tight. "Big Bunny isn't lonely anymore."

"What else is lonely that needs finding?"

She considered this seriously. "Mama, sometimes. She gets sad when she thinks I'm sleeping."

The admission hit me in the gut. Hard.

I carried her back toward the pediatric ward. She was tired from our adventure. Asked to be picked up with that trust that made my chest ache.

"You smell good," she said sleepily. "Like the forest."

My wolf stirred. Recognized something. Someone.

We passed my father's physician, Dr. Richards. His face broke into a warm smile when he saw us.

"Is this your daughter, Jason?" He laughed, looking between us. "She looks just like you. Same eyes, same stubborn chin."

All the color drained from my face. My heart stopped.

"She's not... we're not..."

Dr. Richards looked embarrassed. Flustered. "Oh, sorry. I just assumed... Ava, you really do favor him. It's quite striking."

Ava looked up at me. Those green eyes that were exactly like mine. Same shade. Same gold flecks. Same intensity. Then back at Dr. Richards.

"He's not my daddy," she said matter-of-factly. But there was something wistful there. Longing. "But I wish he was. He's much nicer than most grown-ups."

The innocent comment hit me like a truck.

Dr. Richards made excuses and hurried away.

As I watched Ava play with her reunited stuffed animals, I couldn't help but wonder…

The way she tilted her head when thinking. Exactly like I did.

The stubborn set of her jaw. The bright curiosity in her eyes. The way she processed information.

Even the way she held her toys. Careful. Protective.

It was all so familiar.

Laila POV

I stepped out of Ava's room for one minute. One minute to talk to the nurse about pre-surgery instructions.

Routine stuff. What time to stop giving her water. Which medications to hold. When to expect the surgical team.

Normal. Manageable. Under control.

When I came back, her bed was empty.

Panic hit me like a fist to the chest. Stole my breath. Made my heart race.

"Ava? Ava, where are you?"

My voice cracked. High. Desperate. She was supposed to be resting.

The doctors had been clear. No excitement. No stress. Keep her calm.

"Ava!" I called out. Didn't care who stared. Didn't care about making a scene. My daughter was missing.

Hospital staff looked up from their stations. Concerned. Ready to help.

I was about to call security when I saw him. Jason. Walking down the corridor with my daughter in his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Like he belonged there.

Ava was chattering happily. Animated. Completely oblivious to my terror. Her small hands gesturing as she told him some story.

"Mama!" she called out cheerfully when she spotted me. Waving like she was greeting me at the end of a normal day.

Relief flooded through me. So intense it made me dizzy. Left me shaky. Then fury took over. Hot. Overwhelming.

I rushed over and yanked Ava from Jason's arms. Probably rougher than necessary. But I couldn't help it.

"What were you thinking?" I snapped. My voice sharper than I meant. Edged with leftover panic. "You can't just wander off! You're sick, Ava. You need to rest."

Ava's face crumbled. Her bright smile faded into hurt confusion.

I immediately felt guilty. She was six. Just six. But the fear had been too overwhelming.

"I'm sorry, Mama," she said in a small voice that broke my heart. "My toy was lost. I was with the handsome uncle the whole time."

"Uncle?" I repeated. Glanced at Jason with suspicion. And something else. Something that made my stomach flutter.

He was watching us. Studying. Those green eyes missing nothing.

"I didn't mean to cause trouble," Jason said quietly. That gentle voice I remembered from quiet moments. From when he used to hold me. "She asked for help. I couldn't ignore her."

But I was still shaken. Still angry at myself for letting my guard down. For allowing even a moment of inattention when Ava's health was so precarious.

"She's my responsibility. Not yours."

The words came out harsher than I intended. Defensive. Like I was marking territory.

Ava looked between us. Her child's intuition picking up on the tension. The undercurrents she couldn't understand but could feel.

"Mama, why are you being mean to Jason? He helped me find Little Bunny."

She held up both rabbits. Proof of his helpfulness.

"It's not mean to be cautious around strangers."

"But he's nice. He listened to my stories and everything."

Jason was still studying my face. That intense look. The one he got when he was trying to solve a puzzle.

Then he asked the question I'd been dreading. The one that could destroy everything.

"Where is Ava's father?"

The words hung in the air between us. Sharp. Dangerous. Like a blade waiting to fall.