The meeting was a disaster for Ryan. Elara was brilliant, dissecting Lycan Holdings' financial weaknesses with surgical precision. She was always five steps ahead, predicting his every counter-offer. He left the conference room feeling gutted, both professionally and personally.
He couldn't return to the pack. The scent of those pups—his sons—was branded onto his wolf soul. He felt their presence like an ache in his chest, a vacuum that his Alpha blood demanded he fill.
Ryan dismissed his driver, pulling his car into a discreet parking garage across the street from Thorne Global. He needed to see them again, to confirm the impossible reality.
He found a secluded rooftop cafe with a perfect sightline to the street entrance of Elara's skyscraper. He sat there for hours, ignoring calls from his Beta, ignoring the demands of his pack. He felt like an obsessive stalker, but the truth was simpler: he was an Alpha driven mad by the sight of his lost heirs.
Just as the sun began to dip below the horizon, the ground-level doors of the Thorne building opened. Elara emerged, surrounded by a tight, professional security detail. She didn't look like a mother leaving work; she looked like a queen leaving her fortress.
Then he saw them.
The twins were walking ahead of her, hand-in-hand with a towering bodyguard. They were identical, small, and moved with a strange, contained confidence that wasn't human. They wore simple, designer clothes, but it was their energy that stole his breath.
Elias, the bolder one, tripped over a curb. Before the bodyguard could react, Leo, the more reserved twin, instantly grabbed his brother's arm. It wasn't just a physical grasp; a soft, low-frequency hum pulsed outward, and Elias instantly regained his balance.
The twins were strong. Too strong for their age. They were exhibiting minor wolf control, a subconscious use of their developing shifting ability.
Ryan's wolf thrashed in his mind. These weren't just his sons; they were future Alphas. The strongest Lycan bloodline in decades. A wave of regret—agonizing, bone-deep regret—hit him. His arrogance, his adherence to tradition, had not just cost him his mate, but had almost cost his pack their future.
He watched Elara scoop up both boys, whispering something that made them giggle, tucking their dark heads against her neck. She looked soft then, unguarded, fiercely protective. The ice melted, revealing the fire. That was his mate. That was the love he had thrown away.
Ryan pulled out his phone, his hand shaking. He scrolled through contacts until he found an old, discrete number for a specialized blood analysis lab—a lab his pack used for non-shifter ailments. He needed proof, solid evidence, before he faced Elara again. He needed to show the pack the twins existed.
He watched the motorcade pull away. He had to get a sample. Tonight.