HIS to CLAIM ALPHA ZEKE

Zekes pov

"Maybe." I sat back down on the fountain's edge, suddenly exhausted. "But I have to try. For Golden, if nothing else. He deserves a father who'll fight for him. Who'll be there for him

the way I should have been there for you."

Cecelia sat down beside me again, this time close enough that our arms almost touched. We sat in silence as darkness fell around us, the fountain's gentle splashing the only sound.

"Tell me about him," I said eventually. "About Golden. What's his favorite color? What does he like to do? What makes him

laugh?"

Cecelia's expression softened. "He loves blue. Ocean blue specifically. He says it's the color of adventure." A small smile crossed her face. "He wants to be a fisherman like Fatima

when he grows up. He loves being on the water, helping with the nets, asking a million questions about every fish they catch."

"He's curious then."

"About everything. He never stops asking why." She pulled out her phone, showing me videos. Golden running on a

beach, his laughter bright and clear. Golden helping sort fish, his little hands careful despite his excitement. Golden at bedtime, demanding one more story.

I watched each video multiple times, memorizing my son's face, his voice, the way he moved. Three years of his life I'd never get back. Three years of moments I'd missed because I'd been too stupid to see what I had when I had it.

"He has your smile," Cecelia said

softly. "When he's really happy, he smiles exactly like you do. The same slightly crooked grin."

"Does he know about me?"

"I told him his father was someone important who couldn't be with us. That it wasn't his fault, that sometimes adults make complicated choices." She put her phone away. "He asks

sometimes, but mostly he's content with the life we built. Or he was, until someone took him."

Her voice broke on the last words. Without thinking, I reached over and

took her hand. She stiffened but didn't pull away.

"We'll find him," I promised. "I swear to you, Cecelia, we'll

bring him home safe."

"You can't promise that."

"Yes, I can." I squeezed her hand gently. "I failed you three years ago. I won't fail Golden. I won't fail either of you again."

We sat there as full dark settled over the garden, hands linked, sharing the weight of our fear for our son. The bond

hummed stronger between us, feeding off the contact, trying to knit itself back together.

I felt when Cecelia noticed it too. Her breath hitched and she

shifted slightly, but she didn't let go of my hand.

"This is dangerous," she whispered.

"I know.

"If we let this happen, if we let the bond come back, it could destroy us worse than before."

"I know that too." I turned to look at her profile in the moonlight. "But I can't seem to care about that as

much as I should."

"You should care." She finally pulled her hand free, standing up. "Because I can't survive you breaking me again, Zeke. I

barely survived it the first time. Next time would kill me."

She walked away before I could respond, disappearing into

the palace and leaving me alone with the fountain and my regrets.

I stayed in the garden for another hour, trying to sort through the mess in my head. The bond was back. Against all logic, against

everything I knew about wolf mating, the bond between Cecelia and me was rebuilding itself.

It should have been impossible. Rejected bonds died. The few documented cases of surviving rejections all involved incomplete ceremonies or technicalities. But ours had been

complete. I'd spoken the formal words. She'd accepted. The bond should have been severed permanently.

Instead, it pulsed between us like a second heartbeat, growing stronger every moment we spent together.

Eventually, I forced myself back inside. Work waited in my office. Reports from the investigators, updates from the trackers, financial records to review. The search for Golden

continued even while I sat in gardens having impossible conversations with his mother.

The palace was quiet as I made my way to my office. Most of the staff had retired for the night. Guards nodded as I

passed, their expressions respectful but curious. I wondered what they thought of all this. Their Alpha's dead mate returning from the grave, bringing

chaos and questions with her.

My office felt cold despite the fire someone had lit in the fireplace. I settled behind my desk, pulling up the latest

reports. The investigators had made progress on tracing the burner phone found in Layla's room. Several calls to an unlisted number that they were working to identify.

I was deep in financial records when it hit me.

A scream that tore through my mind rather than my ears.

Cecelia's voice, raw with terror, calling for Golden. The bond flared to life so.

suddenly it nearly knocked me from my chair. Images flashed through my consciousness. A concrete room. Golden crying. Hands reaching for him.

Cecelia's nightmare played out through our connection and I felt every ounce of her fear, her desperation, her helplessness.

I was moving before my conscious mind caught up. Through the halls, up the stairs, across the palace to the guest wing

where Cecelia's quarters were. Guards called after me but I ignored them. The bond pulled me forward like a physical

tether.

Her door was ajar when I reached it. I pushed it open slowly, my heart hammering.

Cecelia thrashed in her bed, tangled in sheets, her face wet with tears. Her lips moved, forming words I couldn't hear but felt through the bond. Golden's name. Over and over.

Begging him to hold on, begging whoever had him to let him go.

I stood in the doorway frozen. Part of me wanted to go to her, to wake her from the nightmare, to offer

whatever comfort I could. But another part knew she wouldn't welcome it. Knew that crossing that threshold

meant crossing a line we couldn't uncross.

Her eyes snapped open. For a moment we just stared at each other across the dark room. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. Tears continued to track down

her face.

"How did you know?" Her voice came out hoarse. "How did

you know I was having a nightmare?"

I couldn't answer. Couldn't admit

that I'd heard her scream through the bond we supposedly didn't have anymore. Couldn't acknowledge the impossible connection that had dragged me from my office to her door.

"I heard you," I said finally, which wasn't exactly a lie. "Through the halls. You were calling out."

Cecelia sat up slowly, wrapping her arms around herself. "I dream about him every night. About Golden scared and alone. About not being able to reach him."

"We'll find him."

"You keep saying that." Her voice broke. "But what if we don't? What if whoever took him has already hurt him? What if I never see my baby again?"

The bond between us ached with her pain. I felt it like it was my own, the terror of losing a child I'd never met but already loved because he

was part of her.

"May I come in?" The question escaped before I could stop it.

Cecelia hesitated, then nodded. I crossed the room slowly, sitting on the edge of her bed but maintaining careful distance. Close enough to offer comfort but far enough to

give her space.

"Tell me about the dream," I said softly.

"It's always the same. I'm running through corridors trying to find him. I can hear him crying but every door I open is empty. And then I see him,

"You keep saying that." Her voice broke. "But what if we don't? What if whoever took him has already hurt him? What if I never see my baby again?"

The bond between us ached with her pain. I felt it like it was my own, the terror of losing a child I'd never met but already loved because he was part of her.

"May I come in?" The question escaped before I could stop it.

Cecelia hesitated, then nodded. I crossed the room slowly, sitting on the edge of her bed but maintaining

careful distance. Close enough to offer comfort but far enough to give her space.

"Tell me about the dream," I said softly.

"It's always the same. I'm running through corridors trying to find him. I can hear him crying but every door I open is empty. And then I see him, finally, in this concrete room. But when I try to reach him, someone pulls him away." She

wiped her eyes roughly. "I wake up before I can get to him. Every time."

"It's not real. Golden is alive. We

have proof of life from the photo."

"For now." Her voice went flat. "But for how long, Zeke? How long before whoever took him gets tired of waiting? How

long before they decide he's more trouble than he's worth?"

I didn't have an answer to that. The truth was every hour that passed decreased the chances of finding Golden safely. The statistics on missing children were brutal and unforgiving.

"I should go," I said, standing. "Let you get some rest."

"Wait." Cecelia's hand shot out, catching my sleeve. "Don't leave yet. Please. I can't be alone with those dreams right now."

So I sat back down. We didn't talk. We just existed in the quiet dark of her room, sharing space and fear and the

impossible bond that neither of us wanted to acknowledge.

Eventually, Cecelia's breathing evened out as exhaustion

pulled her back toward sleep. Her hand still held my sleeve, her grip loosening but not letting go completely.

I should have left then. Should have gone back to my office, to the work waiting there. Instead, I stayed, watching over

her as she slept fitfully, ready to pull her from the nightmares if they came back.

The bond hummed between us, stronger now than it had been hours ago. Growing. Rebuilding. Becoming something neither of us had asked for but both of us needed more than

we wanted to admit.

Dawn was breaking when I finally extracted myself from her room, leaving before she woke fully.

Guards gave me knowing looks that I ignored. Let them think what they wanted.

The truth was somehow more complicated than any rumor they could spread.