CECELIAS POV
The photograph sat on Zeke's desk between us like a live grenade. Golden's tear-streaked face stared up at me, and each time I looked at it, something twisted violently in my chest. My baby. Someone had my baby in a concrete room and was making him cry.
"We're reviewing security footage from every entrance," Zeke said, his voice clipped and professional. He'd switched into full Alpha mode the moment he saw the photo, barking orders through his phone, summoning guards and trackers. "Whoever delivered this will be identified within the hour."
I couldn't take my eyes off Golden's face. "He looks so scared."
"We'll find him, Cecelia."
"You keep saying that." My voice came out sharper than I intended. "But we're no closer than we were yesterday. Someone walked right up to my door in your palace and left a threat, and you didn't even know they were here."
Zeke's jaw tightened but he didn't argue. He couldn't. The breach was inexcusable and we both knew it.
A knock interrupted us. Healer Margaret entered without waiting for permission, her expression grave. She carried a folder thick with papers.
"Alpha, I have the results from Miss Mayers' examination."
"And?" Zeke's tone left no room for delay.
Margaret opened the folder, though I suspected she'd already memorized every detail. "The blood work confirms that Miss Mayers gave birth approximately three years and four months ago. The genetic markers match those we have on file from her previous medical records when she was Luna here."
"So Golden is definitely mine," Zeke said.
"Biologically, yes. The child would share fifty percent of his genetic material with you based on Miss Mayers' DNA." Margaret hesitated. "There's something else, Alpha. During the examination, I found evidence of significant trauma to Miss Mayers' body. Old injuries that never healed correctly."
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I didn't want to talk about this, didn't want Zeke to know how broken I'd been after the fall.
"What kind of injuries?" Zeke asked, his eyes moving to me.
"Fractured ribs that set improperly. Damage to her left lung that suggests she aspirated a significant amount of water. Scarring consistent with near drowning." Margaret's voice gentled. "Miss Mayers, these injuries should have been treated immediately after they occurred. The fact that they weren't has caused permanent damage."
"I was unconscious for three months," I said flatly. "By the time I woke up, everything had already healed wrong."
Zeke stood abruptly, turning to face the window. His shoulders were rigid. "Can anything be done now?"
"Some of the damage can be corrected with surgery," Margaret said. "The ribs can be rebroken and reset. Physical therapy might improve her lung capacity. But she'll always have limitations she didn't have before."
"I'm fine," I insisted. "I've managed for three years. I can keep managing."
"You shouldn't have to just manage," Margaret said firmly. "These injuries cause you pain, don't they? Difficulty breathing when you exert yourself?"
I didn't answer. The truth was yes, my ribs ached when the weather changed and sometimes I couldn't take a full breath without feeling like something was pressing against my chest. But I'd learned to live with it. You learned to live with a lot of things when you had no other choice.
"We'll schedule the surgery after we find Golden," Zeke said, still facing the window. "For now, Margaret, I need you to document everything. Every injury, every medical issue. I want a complete record."
"Of course, Alpha." Margaret closed her folder. "Miss Mayers, if you experience any acute pain or difficulty breathing, you're to notify me immediately. Is that understood?"
"Yes."
After Margaret left, the silence in the office felt suffocating. Zeke remained at the window, his back to me. I could see his reflection in the glass, his expression harder than stone.
"You nearly died," he said finally.
"But I didn't."
"You could have." He turned to face me. "You were pregnant and alone with injuries that should have killed you. You spent three months in a coma with no one but a stranger to care for you."
"Fatima isn't a stranger anymore. She saved my life."
"She shouldn't have had to." Zeke moved closer, and I saw something raw in his eyes that I couldn't name. "You should have been here. Safe. With proper medical care and pack protection."
"I was here," I reminded him. "That's how I ended up with those injuries in the first place."
The words hit their mark. Zeke flinched like I'd struck him. Good. He needed to remember that his palace hadn't been safe for me. His pack hadn't protected me. His sister in law had pushed me off a cliff and he'd been too busy with Layla to notice anything was wrong.
"I know," he said quietly. "I know this is my fault."
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to." He sat back down at his desk, suddenly looking exhausted. "If I'd been paying attention, if I hadn't been so wrapped up in my own guilt and grief over choosing you instead of Layla, I would have seen the danger. I would have protected you."
"You can't rewrite the past, Zeke."
"No. But I can make sure nothing like that happens again." His phone buzzed and he glanced at it. "The trackers are ready to give their report from Seacreek. They're waiting in the conference room."
I stood immediately. "Let's go."
The conference room was filled with wolves I didn't recognize, all wearing the Brooke Pack insignia. They stood when Zeke entered, their eyes sliding to me with barely concealed curiosity. The dead Luna, back from the grave. I wondered how long it would take before the novelty wore off.
Ryder, the head tracker, stepped forward. "Alpha. Miss Mayers." He nodded to each of us in turn. "We've completed our search of Seacreek territory."
"What did you find?" I asked before Zeke could.
Ryder pulled out a tablet, pulling up a map covered in colored markers. "The boy's scent trail starts here at the preschool. It leads through the main street, past the market, and into the residential area." His finger traced the path. "Then it stops here, at the edge of the forest border."
"Stops?" Zeke leaned forward. "You mean it fades?"
"No, Alpha. It stops completely. As if he vanished into thin air." Ryder swiped to another screen showing chemical analysis. "We found traces of wolfsbane and mountain ash at the location where the scent ends. Someone used scent blocking herbs to mask the trail."
My stomach dropped. Whoever took Golden knew what they were doing. This wasn't some opportunistic kidnapping. It was planned, executed with precision.