CECELIAS POV
The silence in Zeke's office pressed against my ears like water. He stood behind his massive oak desk, the same one that had belonged to his father, studying the photograph I'd handed him. Golden's face smiled up at him from the glossy paper. My son's eyes, those unmistakable molten gold eyes, stared back at his father for the first time.
I watched Zeke's face carefully. His jaw tightened. His fingers gripped the edges of the photo until the paper crinkled slightly. Whatever he'd been expecting when the guards dragged me into his council meeting, it wasn't this.
"How old is he?" His voice came out rough, like he'd swallowed gravel.
"Three years and four months."
His eyes snapped up to mine. I saw him doing the math, counting backward to that last month before I disappeared. Before Layla pushed me off that cliff and left me to drown.
"He looks exactly like you," I added, though it was obvious. Golden could have been Zeke's clone, right down to the stubborn set of his chin and the way his hair fell across his forehead.
Zeke set the photo down on his desk with deliberate care, like it might shatter if he wasn't gentle. "When did he go missing?"
"Yesterday afternoon. He was at preschool in Seacreek Pack. When I went to pick him up, he was gone."
"Seacreek," Zeke repeated. He walked around his desk, moving closer. My body tensed automatically. "That's where you've been all this time? Living in Seacreek?"
"Yes."
"And you never thought to send word that you were alive?" His tone stayed neutral, but I caught the edge underneath. "Never thought to mention that I had a son?"
My hands curled into fists at my sides. "Send word? To the man who rejected me? To the pack where my sister tried to murder me?" I forced myself to breathe slowly. "I built a life there, Zeke. A safe life for my child. Away from all of this."
"My child," he corrected, his voice dropping lower. "He's my child too."
"Only by biology." The words came out sharper than I intended. "You weren't there when I was pregnant and alone. You weren't there when I gave birth with only Fatima to help me. You weren't there for his first word, his first step, his first anything."
Zeke's eyes flashed. For a moment I thought he might argue, might throw his Alpha authority at me like he used to. But instead, he nodded once. "You're right. I wasn't there. Because I thought you were dead." He paused. "We buried you, Cecelia. There was a body. A funeral. I stood over your grave and..."
He didn't finish. I didn't want to know what he'd been about to say.
"The body wasn't me," I said flatly. "Obviously."
"Obviously." He studied my face like he was trying to memorize it, comparing it to whatever memory he'd carried for three years. "You look different."
"I am different."
"How did you survive the fall?"
"Does it matter right now?" My voice cracked despite my best efforts. "My son is missing. Someone took him. I came here because you have resources that Seacreek doesn't. I came here because as much as I hate it, you're the only one who can help me find him."
The admission tasted like ash in my mouth. Coming back here, asking Zeke for anything, went against every instinct I'd developed over the past three years. But Golden was more important than my pride. He was more important than anything.
Zeke moved to the large window behind his desk, his hands clasped behind his back. The late afternoon sun cast his profile in sharp relief. "I'll help you find him."
Relief flooded through me so suddenly my knees almost buckled. "Thank you."
"But I have conditions."
Of course he did. I straightened my spine. "What conditions?"
He turned to face me fully. "You stay here at the palace during the search. I need you close in case we get leads that require your immediate input."
"Fine."
"And you submit to a healer's examination."
My stomach dropped. "Why?"
"To confirm the child's paternity." His expression gave nothing away. "You show up after three years claiming to have my son. I believe you, but my pack council will want proof. Medical proof."
Heat crawled up my neck. "You think I'm lying?"
"I think I need documentation," he said evenly. "Blood tests, genetic markers, whatever the healer requires to establish that Golden is biologically mine. It's not personal, Cecelia. It's protocol."
Everything with Zeke was protocol. Duty and protocol and the pack's needs before anything else. That's why he'd married me in the first place. That's why he'd never loved me.
"Fine," I bit out. "Examine me. Test my blood. Do whatever you need to do. Just find my son."
"Our son," he corrected again.
I said nothing.
Zeke pulled out his phone and made a call. "Ryder, get in here." He ended it without waiting for a response. Within seconds, the door opened and a tall man with dark hair entered. I recognized him vaguely from before. Ryder had been one of Zeke's best trackers.
"Send a team to Seacreek Pack immediately," Zeke ordered. "A three year old boy went missing yesterday afternoon. His name is Golden. I want our best trackers on this. Treat it as a priority alpha case."
Ryder's eyes flicked to me briefly, widening in recognition and shock, but he was too well trained to comment. "Yes, Alpha. What's the last known location?"
"Seacreek preschool," I supplied. "He was supposed to be in the playground. When the teacher checked on the children, he was gone."
"Any witnesses?" Ryder asked.
I shook my head. "None that we could find. The Seacreek pack searched everywhere. We found nothing."
"We'll find something," Ryder promised. He nodded to Zeke and left quickly.
The door had barely closed before it opened again. Layla swept in without knocking, her face flushed with anger. She looked exactly as I remembered, beautiful and perfect, except now there were lines around her eyes that hadn't been there before.
"Zeke, what is the meaning of this?" she demanded. "The entire pack house is buzzing with rumors that Cecelia is alive and you're just entertaining this fantasy?"
I met her gaze directly. She froze mid step when she realized I was really standing there. Her face went white, then red, then white again.
"Hello, Layla," I said calmly.
She recovered faster than I expected. Her shock morphed into fury so quickly I almost missed the transition. "How dare you show your face here? What kind of sick game are you playing?"
"No game," Zeke said sharply. "She's alive. And she has information about my son."
"Your son?" Layla's voice went shrill. She gestured toward the doorway where a small blond boy stood partially hidden. Cameron. "Your son is right there. That's your son. This woman is clearly lying to manipulate you."
Cameron peered around his mother's legs, his blue eyes wide and confused. He looked so much like Layla it hurt. Not a trace of Zeke in him that I could see.
"Cecelia has a child," Zeke said, his tone hard. "A boy named Golden who is three years old. He's missing. I've agreed to help find him."
"Oh, how convenient." Layla's laugh was brittle. "She disappears for three years, supposedly dead, and now suddenly reappears with a mystery child that she claims is yours? This is obviously a ploy to get back into your life."
"The child looks exactly like me," Zeke said quietly.
"So what? She could have found any blond child and coached him. She could have fabricated the entire story." Layla moved closer to Zeke's desk, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. "Think about it rationally. Why would she wait three years to tell you about this supposed child? Why show up now, claiming he's been kidnapped? It's manipulation, Zeke. Pure manipulation."