Chapter 3: Face to Face with the Ghost
1090 Words
The air in the cobblestone square grew impossibly thick.
Around them, merchants and travelers held their breath, frozen in absolute terror under the oppressive aura of the Alpha King. Yet, right in the center of it all stood Jaxon, his small hands gripping a wooden toy sword, staring directly into Alpha Max’s icy blue eyes with fierce, unyielding bravery.
Max stared down at the small child, his ruthless mind completely paralyzed for the first time in years.
The boy was barely higher than his knee, wearing patched clothes covered in dirt. But his face... his face was a hauntingly familiar mirror image of Max’s own youth. The strong, defined jawline, the stubborn tilt of the chin, and most terrifying of all—those glowing, electric blue eyes that carried the unmistakable, dominant sparks of the Alpha bloodline.
Who is this child? Max thought, an unexplainable, violent pang twisting his heart. His internal wolf, Ares, stirred restlessly beneath his ribs, scratching at his soul with a sudden, wild desperation.
"You're in my way, big guy," Jaxon repeated, adjusting his stance and pointing his wooden sword at Max’s leather boots. "My mommy said I shouldn't talk to scary strangers, but you're blocking the path to the bakery."
A collective gasp echoed through the crowded square. No one spoke to Alpha Max of the Bloodmoon Pack like that and lived to tell the tale.
Max’s royal guards immediately stepped forward, their hands dropping to the hilts of their silver blades. "Insolent brat—"
"Stand down!" Max snapped, his voice booming with a authority that made his guards instantly freeze.
Max slowly dropped to one knee, lowering himself to eye level with the little boy. Up close, the resemblance was utterly undeniable. Max reached out a gloved hand, driven by a strange, irresistible urge to touch the boy's dark, messy hair.
"What is your name, boy?" Max asked, his voice unexpectedly rough, devoid of its usual lethal sharpness. "And where are your parents?"
Jaxon didn't flinch. He puffed out his little chest proudly. "I told you, I'm Jaxon! And my mommy is—"
"JAXON!"
A sharp, terrified scream tore through the silent market, cutting the child off mid-sentence.
Max’s eyes whipped toward the source of the voice. Through the crowd of bowing onlookers, a female figure staggered forward. She wore a dark, heavy cloak, her body trembling so violently she could barely keep her feet beneath her.
Elena’s heart slammed against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her blood had turned to liquid ice the moment she saw Max kneeling before her son.
No, no, no! Moon Goddess, please protect my child!
She sprinted forward, completely ignoring the whispering crowd and the heavy gazes of the Bloodmoon guards. She slid onto the rough cobblestones, throwing her arms around Jaxon and violently pulling him into her chest, shielding his body with her own.
"Mommy!" Jaxon gasped, surprised by the desperate strength of her grip. "Look, I defended the path!"
"Shh... baby, quiet, please," Elena sobbed into his soft hair, her fingers clutching his small back as if he might vanish into thin air. She kept her head pulled low, her dark hood pulled so far forward that only her trembling chin was visible.
She could feel Max’s piercing gaze burning into her back. The familiar, crushing pressure of his dominant aura washed over her, triggering memories of the freezing night he had shattered her bond and banished her into the storm.
"My apologies, my Lord," Elena whispered, her voice intentionally raspy and muffled against Jaxon's shoulder. "My son is young... he didn't mean any disrespect. Please... spare us."
Max slowly rose back to his feet, his massive frame towering over the huddled mother and child. His icy blue eyes narrowed as he stared down at the woman.
There was no wolf scent radiating from her. She smelled like wild herbs, earth, and rainwater. Yet, as he watched her press the child against her chest, a strange, suffocating scent brushed past his senses—a faint, ghostly trace of sweet jasmine and fresh pine that sent a violent jolt down his spine.
Jasmine.
Max’s breath caught in his throat. His chest heaved as his eyes widened in sudden, agonizing realization.
"Look at me," Max commanded. His voice wasn't filled with anger, but with a terrifying, desperate tremble.
Elena stiffened, her hands tightening around Jaxon. "Please, my Lord, we are just humble herbalists from the border. We will leave immediately—"
"I said, look at me!" Max roared, his royal command echoing off the stone walls of the market.
The sheer force of his Alpha voice left no room for refusal. Against her will, Elena’s body betrayed her. Her shoulders shook as she slowly lifted her head, letting her dark hood fall backward to expose her pale face to the sunlight.
Max felt as though a physical blade had been driven straight into his heart.
Five years of ruthless control, five years of cold perfection, shattered in a single second. The delicate features, the soft lips, the eyes filled with lingering, painful memories—it was her.
"Elena?" Max choked out, stepping forward, his voice cracking entirely. "You're... alive?"
"Stay away from us!" Elena cried out, scrambling backward on the cobblestones while holding Jaxon tightly in her lap.
Jaxon felt his mother’s panic and immediately raised his wooden sword again, glaring at the giant man with pure defiance. "Don't touch my mommy!"
Max’s gaze darted from Elena’s tear-stained face to the fierce little boy snarling at him with icy blue eyes.
The timeline smashed together in Max's head like a devastating wreck. Five years. The exact amount of time since he had banished her into the freezing storm.
Max staggered back half a step, staring at Jaxon as if seeing a phantom. "He... he has my eyes. Elena... is he—"
"He is mine!" Elena screamed, her voice echoing with all the rage and pain she had buried for five long years. She pushed herself up, clutching Jaxon tightly in her arms, and backed away toward a narrow side alley. "You threw me away, Alpha Max! You declared I was nothing! You have no right to ask about my life!"
Before Max could reach out, Elena turned and bolted into the dark, labyrinthine alleyway, disappearing into the shadows of the border town with his son.
Max stood frozen in the center of the square, his lungs burning, his heart hammering against his chest like a war drum.
I have a son.
- Writer
