CHAPTER FOURTEEN
1003 Words
Seraphine’s POV
The library suddenly felt too small, too bright, and far too fragile against the storm raging outside. I held Luna and Emery tightly, their little bodies pressed against mine as if I could somehow shield them from whatever was coming. My heart still hammered from the terror of finding their classroom empty. Now Evan was gone too, and the weight of it pressed down on my chest like a physical force.
Marcus’s voice stayed low and urgent as he checked his comms again. “Evan left on his own. No one took him—the scent trail is singular, just his.”
Mira nodded grimly from beside the reading table. “His wolf reacted instantly. The second the threat registered, he stepped up. He put himself between the danger and the other two without anyone telling him.Like it was pure instinct.”
I stared at her, struggling to wrap my head around it. A four-year-old. My mind kept circling back to that fact. A four-year-old had stepped into a protector’s role against adult wolves—wolves who had crossed into our territory with clear intent. The thought twisted something deep inside me. Evan had already looked like he carried too much.
“His wolf guided him,” Mira added quietly, meeting my eyes. “It’s stronger than most pups his age. He didn’t hesitate.”
Caden was already moving, tracking the fresh trail with lethal focus. I quickly kissed the tops of Luna and Emery’s heads, whispering for them to stay with Mira and Marcus, then followed him. The bond between us pulsed with shared urgency—his Alpha instincts roaring to protect, mine a mother’s fierce, unrelenting need to gather her children close.
We found Evan at the west corridor entrance.
The sight stopped me in my tracks.
The small boy stood squarely in the middle of the hallway, tiny shoulders squared, facing three fully grown Greymoor wolves. They towered over him, broad-shouldered and radiating threat, but they had stopped. They were hesitating. Evan’s little hands were clenched at his sides, his chin lifted in quiet defiance. His wolf hovered so close to the surface that even I could feel the raw, unpolished power rolling off him.
“You cannot pass,” Evan said, his voice steady and surprisingly clear for a child his age. No tremor or any hint of fear.
The Greymoor wolves looked visibly thrown. One shifted his weight, exchanging uneasy glances with the others. A four-year-old pup was holding the line against three adult enforcers.
Caden arrived like a force of nature. He stepped between Evan and the intruders in one fluid motion, his body a solid wall. The Alpha presence that poured from him was suffocating. The Greymoor wolves instinctively took a step back, their own wolves bowing under the pressure. The corridor itself seemed to shrink around Caden’s dominance.
“What do you want?,” Caden growled. The single word carried the full weight of his title.
The lead Greymoor wolf straightened slightly, though he kept his eyes lowered. “We were sent under Luna Isolde’s instructions. She said there were unregistered Ironmoor heirs here. Legal grounds to retrieve them.”
Caden’s laugh was cold and humorless. “Unregistered?” He pulled out his phone with one hand while staying positioned protectively in front of Evan. “The children—Emery and Luna Ashford—were officially registered under Millhaven protection months ago. A formal paternity claim was filed and acknowledged this morning. Your legal justification just evaporated.”
Marcus appeared behind us, his voice sharp. “You’ve also entered protected Millhaven territory without authorization or diplomatic clearance. This is now a clear violation of inter-pack law.”
The Greymoor wolves faltered. The realization that they’d been misled—used as pawns in Isolde’s game—showed plainly on their faces. The lead wolf muttered something under his breath, then gave a stiff nod.
“We were misinformed,” he said at last. “We withdraw.”
They backed away slowly, never fully turning their backs until they reached the end of the corridor. The moment they disappeared around the corner, the tension in the air shattered like breaking ice.
I dropped to my knees in front of Evan immediately, my hands gently checking his arms, his face, his small frame for any sign of injury. He was unharmed. Not a scratch. Relief flooded through me so strongly that tears stung at the corners of my eyes.
“Evan,” I breathed, pulling him into my arms. He was tense at first, still wired from whatever his wolf had demanded, but he slowly relaxed against me.
Caden crouched beside us, one large hand resting on Evan’s shoulder. His voice was gentler than I’d heard it in a long time. “You did well, pup.”
Evan looked up at him with those serious eyes. “My wolf told me to stop them. They were going toward the others.” He said it so calmly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I had to.”
A four-year-old made that decision.
Luna slipped quietly into the corridor then, with Marcus close behind. She didn’t say anything—she simply took Evan’s hand in hers, her small fingers intertwining with his. The gesture was so natural, so grounding, that my throat tightened. For a moment, the four of us formed a quiet circle—Luna and Evan, Emery hovering close, Caden and I on either side.
“You’re safe now,” I whispered to Evan, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “All of you.”
Caden met my eyes over the children’s heads. Through the bond, I felt the truth he didn’t say aloud: Immediate safety, yes. But this is far from over.
The broader storm—Isolde’s legal traps, Greymoor’s involvement, Daniel’s surveillance—still loomed. But right now, in this corridor, my children were together and unharmed.
That would have to be enough. For now.
- Writer
