As they approached the garage, Wyatt heard the clink of metal falling on concrete, then some swearing. Dad crouched behind a Jaguar, looking for something on the floor.
He held his breath, and stepped forward with Mom and Hazel. “Hi, Dad.”
Dad glanced up, then did a double-take. “Wyatt?”
Wyatt’s heart lodged in his throat. He let go of Mom’s hand, so he could touch his abdomen, protect his baby.
“You didn’t say you’re expecting,” Chief Fleming said, grinning. He straightened, wiped his greasy hands on his shorts, and hurried into the sunlight. Then he looked around, eyebrows rising. “Congrats, son! Where’s your alpha?”
The lump in Wyatt’s throat grew, and his heart pounded. “It’s—He’s not around.”
Dad frowned. The sunlight glinted off his gray hair, and Wyatt saw the wrinkles on his face, the curiosity in his eyes. “C’mon, don’t say you have an alpha and then not bring him. Who’s he? We should meet. I’ll scare him a little, see if he’s good for you.”
It’s Raph. Wyatt squirmed, his hands sweating. Mom glanced sidelong at him.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it.
“Dad?” Hazel said, tapping on her phone.
Wyatt wiped his hands on his pants. “Not right now, hon.”
Chief Fleming strode up, pulling Wyatt into a hug. Pride shone in his eyes. “Damn it, son. You should’ve told us sooner! Are you bonded? Does your alpha treat you good?”
Wyatt opened his mouth, willing his voice to come unstuck. It’s Raph, it’s Raph. Your other son.
“It’s Uncle Raph,” Hazel said, looking up from her phone.
Hazel, no.
Wyatt closed his eyes, wishing he could burrow into a hole in the ground. His father’s spruce scent enveloped him, and he wished they were hugging under better circumstances, not with him carrying a baby he shouldn’t be pregnant with.
His belly pressed against his dad, awkward and incriminating. Wyatt wished Raph were here. Wished Raph were holding his hand, at least.
He pulled away from his father, unable to meet his mom’s eyes. “Raph is my alpha.”
Dad blinked. “What?”
Wyatt sucked in a breath. “Raph is my alpha,” he said again.
Dad stared, intelligent eyes locked on Wyatt. “You mean... you had someone else’s kid, and they abandoned you? Is that why Raph’s your alpha?”
He felt the prickle of his dad’s gaze on his scent gland, where Raph had bitten him. Wyatt swallowed, holding on to the hem of his sweater. “No. It’s Raph’s baby. I mated with him.”
His face burned. Part of him wanted to snatch Hazel up and run. Before anyone could react, and before everything crashed down on him.
But part of Wyatt wanted to stay, because he remembered You deserve punishment, and it made him close his eyes, shoulders hunched, expecting pain.
“You can’t possibly...” Dad was looking around when Wyatt cracked his eyes open. Dad looked at Hazel, then his wife. “This is a joke, right? Tanya? You don’t seem surprised. Did you know?”
Mom nodded, slipping her fingers into Wyatt’s hand. “I did. Don’t be too harsh on Wyatt, Stanley.”
When Wyatt chanced a look at his father’s eyes, he found confusion, and betrayal. Maybe shock. Maybe disgust.
He shouldn’t have told Sam to leave. He should’ve asked Sam to stay around with his car, so he and Hazel had a chance to escape.
“What about Hazel?” Dad asked. “She knows, too? You’ve... told her?”
Wyatt nodded woodenly.
“Uncle Raph visits us every weekend.” Hazel shook her phone, looking between all of them. “Dad, I just got a text.”
“Can it wait?” Wyatt winced. On second thought, maybe they should all hear it, to take off some of the pressure in his chest.
“It’s from Uncle Raph.”
Raph texted Hazel? Wyatt reached for his phone, hesitating. Was that why it buzzed?
“Hang on a minute,” Dad said, his forehead furrowing. “You’ve been pregnant for how long, Wyatt? You’re only telling us now? This thing with—with Raph? What the hell were you thinking?”
He wished he were halfway across the world, where no one knew him. “I thought you might not like to hear the news,” Wyatt said. “I’ll leave Meadowfall, if that’s easier on you. I’ll—”
In the distance, a car rumbled. An escape? Wyatt glanced at Hazel. “Could you ask Aunt Penny to pick us up? Or Uncle Sam.”
Hazel nodded, tapping into her phone.
Mom squeezed his arm, her eyes reluctant. “Do you really have to leave, Wyatt? You’ve only just got here. I’ll get Dad to calm down.”
Dad had stepped away from Wyatt, his eyes filled with confusion. Disbelief. He couldn’t accept this. And that was fine. An upstanding person like him shouldn’t have to deal with Wyatt and his transgressions.
Further down the hill, the iron gates pulled open. A sleek black car crawled through, climbing the winding driveway.
“Oh no,” Mom said. “Grandma’s back.”
Wyatt’s stomach plummeted. I need to leave. “Hurry, Hazel.”
“I’m hurrying!” she said, her little fingers flying across the screen. And the car crept ever closer, its presence a growing weight on Wyatt’s heart. Hazel was still looking at her phone. Wyatt needed to get away from the garage, get out of this place. Maybe hide in his old bedroom, where Grandma couldn’t find him.
First Max, and now this.
His heart thudded. He looked at his feet. And the car pulled to a stop in front of them, engine humming. Its driver stepped out, someone tall with broad shoulders.
“Uncle Raph,” Hazel said.
Wyatt looked up, his pulse skittering.
Raph was standing by the car, frozen, his eyes darting between Wyatt, Mom, and Dad. There were shadows under his eyes, and his suit was rumpled, like he’d gone to sleep in it. But he was still Wyatt’s alpha, still beautiful, strong and brave, and Wyatt ached to fall into his arms. He hadn’t seen Raph in a week. Hadn’t felt safe with him for a month.
“What’s going on?” Grandma snapped, slamming the passenger door. Wyatt jumped.
“Raph,” Dad said, the lines on his face deepening. “Is it true? Wyatt says you’re his alpha.”
And Wyatt felt the full weight of Grandma’s glare on him,
