Braiden
It is her—my Ava, My Queen. I inhale de eply, her scent of sweet apples and pine cones engulfing me and knocking
the breath from my lungs.
She is frozen in place, as am I. Her olive-green eyes, which have haunted my dreams and nightmares, swe ep my
body as mine do hers. She is all 5’6” of perfection. I almost cannot believe my eyes.
She is wearing a figure-hugging yellow sundress, her curves even better than in my dreams. Her brown hair is
pulled into a high ponytail, much longer than when I last saw her. Her cheeks are rosy red, matching her lips, which
twitch nervously.
And then, as suddenly as time seemed to stop, the look on Ava’s face morphs into terror, and everything unfreezes.
“Aliana, run!” All I see is a blur behind her, and then Ava turns and shifts.
Fully shifts. Without pain or hesitation. And she is majestic. White fur, white eyes. White from the tip of her nose
to her tail. And big. Nearly as big as I am in my wolf form.
The royal guards who have surrounded the area are already in pursuit, led by Samuel.
When I shift, and my wolf catches his mate's scent, a switch is flipped. A howl rips free, and then the chase is on. I
don’t know why she is running from me, but she will not es cape. She will never again leave my side.
She is fast, but so am I. She is also slowing down purposefully. Staying between whoever is in front of her and me,
which allows my royal guards and Samuel to get in front of them, effectively cutting their way forward off. By the
time I get to the clearing they have been herded to, Ava’s loud growl is deafening. Her hackles are up, and her
claws are fully extended as she curls her body around the smaller wolf—one who has not shifted. I cannot see who
it is, but the scent is familiar. Similar to Ava but different at the same time.
Whoever this is, Ava is protective. So protective that she has already wounded one of my guards who ventured too
close. She has an utterly wild look in her eye.
My stomach drops as it dawns on me. I have seen this behavior before in our pack when a mother feels like her cub
is threatened.
No. It can’t be. She had a child. But whose? I feel sick to my stomach thinking of her with someone else. Some
other man touching her. Mating with her. Had he marked her? Had she marked him like she had me? I didn’t think
my heart could break twice. Didn’t think I even had a heart. But whatever is left shatters, almost bringing me to my
knees. At the same time, Ava yelps as if she, too, is in pain.
My wolf growls, and Ava’s ears perk up. The wild look in her eyes morphs into recognition as she looks at me.
And then I hear it—the voice of a little girl.
“Mommy, Mommy. Don’t worry. He won’t hurt us.”
Ava paws at the ground and then whines, a small hand reaching up to stroke Ava’s cheek.
Then she moves, and the little girl comes into view. My heart stops as I take her in. Grey eyes meet mine while
wild, curly black hair frames a face made by the angels. Something snaps into place. Something we both feel.
My world explodes and changes forever as she whispers into the forest air.
“Look, Mommy. It’s Daddy.”