Ava
Silence. My request is met with silence, and I can understand why.
I have been pushing Braiden away. As much as I could feel something about the last four years was off, I didn’t
want to believe it. I didn’t want to acknowledge that there could be some truth to what he was saying.
Admitting it felt like I had failed. Why hadn’t I asked more questions? Why did I allow myself to be deceived?
Reflecting on these questions, I can only boil the answer down to one reason. It was because of the continually
implied threat to Aliana’s life. A threat created to ke ep me under their control. It had made me overly cautious and
complacent. The so-called protection offered to me by Jerry and The Underground left me feeling like this. It
appeared that under the right circumstances and with the correct leverage, prison, and protection looked a lot alike.
But what had it cost me? The price now seemed high, not just for me, but also for the man who was my mate and
the father of my child.
He battles the confusion my words have caused him at this moment, comparing them to my actions over the last
couple of days.
“Come.” I take his hand and start leading him towards the house, surprised when he does not resist.
He needed to understand where this request for him to mark me came from. It was also something that had only
come up for me in the last couple
of hours as we worked on the surprise we had planned for him.
I know the timing might be wrong, with him finding out his mother and ex-fiancée are traitors. But we had wasted
so much time already. I also wanted to tie this in with Aliana’s birthday, which we never got to celebrate properly.
I’m sure Braiden would have wanted to celebrate it with her.
By the time we get to the front door, I am a nervous wreck, second- guessing this plan. What if he didn’t like it?
What if it was too much?
“What’s wrong?” I realize we have been silently standing outside the door for over a minute. When I look up at
him, beautiful grey eyes look down at me with concern. Dammit, he is gorgeous. It almost hurts looking at him. I
can see where my obsession stemmed from.
“I’m nervous. But there is something you should see. I know it won’t compensate for the time lost, but maybe it
can ease some of the hurt.”
I don’t get a chance to continue as the door is flung open.
“Daddy, you’re here. We have a surprise for you,” Aliana whispers, slipping her hand around Braiden's two fingers
on his other hand.
“Close your eyes.” Braiden looks at me quizzically and then releases my hand before covering his eyes.
Aliana leads Braiden into the house while Nick winks at me and gives me an excited thumbs-up before leaving.
The little click of the door behind us solidifies that we are alone—just the three of us—in Braiden's house. In our
house, I can already hear his voice echoing in my mind, correcting me.
“Okay. You can look.” Aliana squeals, barely able to contain her excitement.
Braiden drops his hand, his eyes taking in the state of his living room.
Fairy lights are strung from one side of the room to the other, some intersecting. Little pegs attached to the strings
of lights hold up photographs, letters, Aliana’s drawings, my paintings, and other ke epsakes.
Everything that made up our memories over the last four years was displayed.
Aliana pulls on Braiden's hand, forcing him out of the silent stone figure he has become.
I walk behind him as he slowly walks past pictures of his daughter when she was days old, his finger brushing over
her sle eping form before touching the next one.
Aliana sucking on a bottle, her little figure wrapped in a soft yellow blanket I still have and which is laid out on the
couch. Aliana lying on her baby play mat with a big smile as she looks at a bee plushy toy hanging from the top.
Aliana holding onto her baby walker trying to pry off one of the buttons. Aliana on her first and second birthdays.
Picture after picture, spanning every phase of our daughter's life. I realize then that I don’t even doubt she is his.
The way they are together, her scooped up and sitting on his hip as she animatedly tells him what is happening in
the pictures. It’s evident to anyone with eyes. Physically, she shares more traits with him than with me. Grey eyes,
black hair, the same smile.
When I asked her how she knew, she said she felt it inside. That when she looked at him something snap into place.
I realized then that she had imprinted on Braiden, just like we had when we first saw each other. It was unheard of,
imprinting so late after birth, but then, so were white and black wolves. She told me she never felt that way with
Jerry and could tell ‘he was a bad man.’ I wish I could have been more astute. Brushing those negative feelings
aside, I look up at the man stealing my daughter's heart.
His eyes find mine as he stops before a drawing—one of mine.
“Mommy drew this. She says it was from a dream. Don’t you think it looks like you, Daddy?” Aliana looks at
Braiden questioningly, waiting for him to respond.
“It is me. It is from the first time we met at a mandatory gathering. This is the royal uniform I had on that night.”
When I look at the picture, all I can remember from that dream was me looking up, my eyes meeting with intense
grey ones. As Braiden stared at me, it was as if time seemed to stop, just like it is now.
He tears his gaze from mine before moving on to the next row. This one has many drawings from my dreams,
which I think are memories.
“This one is when your mommy was stubborn and wouldn’t sit next to me on the Queen's chair, so she had to sit on
my lap instead.” Aliana giggles, and then her eyes go wide.
“Is Mommy The Queen?” Damn, this little nuclear bomb of information I forgot about. Queen. Of all werewolves.
My stomach churns with anxiety just thinking about it.
“Yes.” Braiden looks from Aliana to me, his eyes filled with pride as he confirms it.
“Ohhhhh, does that mean I am a princess?” Aliana asks, clapping her hands together excitedly.
“Of course. But even if your mom wasn’t the Queen and I wasn’t the King, you would still be a princess.” She
squeals when Braiden tickles her stomach, her laughter filling the space. The look on his face is definitely one I
would not forget and one that would find its way onto canvas.
Adoration. Love. Joy. Even just in this moment. It was like looking at a different man.
They continue working their way along, as Braiden explains my drawings.
Braiden and I are in a corridor, him standing behind me in a full-length mirror. We are in a library while he is
crowding me on a ladder. We are in a swimming pool. We are in a boxing ring. We are in bed. We are kissing.
Moment after moment, we are committed to paper.
The next day, when I painted them, guilt washed over me. I believed they stemmed from my obsession with staring
at his picture, the only thing that eased the ache in my chest. I thought that constantly looking at the photo had
created these fantasies in my mind. But now I realize they were real.
“You remember me.” Braiden’s voice behind me makes me jump.
Aliana is no longer on his hip. She is busy playing with her teddy and a new pram Nick bought her for her birthday.
I turn around slowly, worried about his reaction to all of this.
“It appears I do.” We stare at each other for ages, and how he looks at me makes me hot and bothered as a blush
cre eps up my face.
“Do you like it?” I hate the uncertainty in my voice, wishing instead that I knew him better at this moment. That I
could read his emotions better.
Perhaps I can, I think, my eyes dropping to the mark on his neck.
I call my wolf forward and then focus on tuning in to him. All I can feel is happiness, contentment, and... lust. But I
can’t tell if that is from him or me because, at this moment, I feel all of these things and more. Under the scrutiny of
this man, which my mind only processes as knowing recently, the rest of me blooms with a reality that is becoming
clearer—that we have known each other for longer than a few days.
“I love it, Ava. Thank you.” The sincerity and longing in his voice almost destroys me.
“Can we have cake?” Aliana’s interruption is welcome as I remember to breathe—Braiden’s presence and the
intimacy of the moment overwhelming.
I plate up the cake Samuel arranged, adding three glitter candles positioned around the pink unicorn in the
middle—Aliana’s favorite cartoon character.
“Blow out the candles and make a wish.” Braiden stands beside her as she leans against the table, her face inches
from the cake.
“I’ll blow out the candle, but I don’t need to make a wish. It already came true.” Her eyes drift between Braiden
and me, a massive grin on her face.
“To find Daddy so that we can be a family.”