Page 19 of Bully Alpha's Secret Baby

“The pack will fall in line,” he interrupts, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Penny is part of this pack now, and no one—no one—is going to take her away from me.”

I stare at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but there’s none. He means it. He’ll fight for Penny. For us.

And for the first time in a long time, I let myself hope that maybe, just maybe, things can be different.

“I don’t want her to go through what I did,” I admit. “I don’t want her to be alone.”

Damien inches forward, closing the distance between us, and gently places a hand on my shoulder. “She won’t be alone, Jade. Not as long as I’m here.”

His touch is warm, comforting, and for a moment, I let myself lean into it. Let myself believe that somehow wecanfigure this out together. Because despite everything—despite the pain, the anger, the fear—Damien is right. Penny deserves more. She deserves her father.

I wish I could say the tension fizzled out after Damien’s grand declaration, but it doesn’t. In fact, it just hangs between us like an invisible rope, pulling tight enough to strangle. We’ve said all we can, and now it’s just… awkward.

We’re standing there, staring at each other in the small cabin kitchen, and the only sound is Penny’s soft humming from the next room. Her innocence, completely oblivious to the earthquake shaking the foundation of our world, is almost comforting. Almost.

“I’ll read to her tonight.” Damien’s voice cuts through the silence like he’s throwing down a challenge instead of a bedtime suggestion.

“What?” I say.

When he crosses his arms, his biceps strain against the fabric of his shirt—seriously, who wears a tight shirt to a custody fight? “I’m reading to Penny tonight. You’ve had three years of bedtime stories. It’s my turn.”

Oh, he’s got some nerve. And the worst part? He’s right. I have had three years of bedtime stories. Three years ofgoodnight kisses and whispered secrets under blankets. Three years he’s missed.

So as much as I want to retort with some snarky comment about how reading a story doesn’t make up for lost time, I don’t. Because deep down, I know it won’t change anything. I’m trying to fight a battle that’s already been lost.

“Fine,” I mutter, trying to sound like it doesn’t bother me, even though it absolutely does. “But she likes voices. You screw up the voices, she’ll roast you alive.”

His lips quirk up at the corner. “Noted.”

I roll my eyes and follow him into Penny’s room. When I get there, I hang back and watch as he walks over to where Penny is sitting on the floor, surrounded by her stuffed animals. She’s got her wolf in one hand and a book in the other, and when Damien kneels beside her, her face lights up like the damn sun.

She scrambles up, holding the book out to him like it’s the greatest gift she’s ever given anyone. “Can we read this one? It’s my favorite!”

Damien takes the book with a smile that I swear softens his whole face. “Of course we can, kiddo.”

He settles into the old armchair by the fireplace, and Penny climbs up into his lap, wiggling around until she’s comfortable. She hands him the book—Goodnight Moon, of course—and looks up at him with those big brown eyes, waiting.

He starts reading, and damn him, he’s good at the voices. His deep voice takes on the soothing tone of the quiet old lady whispering “hush,” and Penny giggles every time he switches it up for the kittens and mittens part. It’s… sweet. Sickeningly sweet.

And I hate that it’s affecting me.

I stand there, watching them, feeling like an outsider in my own life. This is what I wanted, right? For him to step up, to be the father Penny deserves. And here he is, doing just that. But it’s messing with my head.

Damien’s voice dips lower as he reads the final line, and Penny yawns, snuggling deeper into his chest. I can tell she’s fighting sleep. Her eyelids are drooping.

When the book finally closes, she’s out. Fast asleep in his arms, her breathing soft and steady. And Damien? He just sits there, holding her like he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he moves.

For a moment, something twists in my chest. It’s not anger, not anymore. It’s something else, something I’m not ready to admit to myself.

“She loves you, you know,” I say softly, surprising myself with how raw the words sound. “Even without knowing who you were.”

Damien glances up at me. “I’m going to clear your name.”

“What?”

“With the other packs,” he continues, carefully shifting Penny in his arms as he stands up. “And with ours. I’m going to make sure they know you can be trusted. You won’t be the outcast witch anymore. You’re part of Starfire Hollow. You’re part of my pack.”

Oh, hell, no. He’s not going to pull that alpha card again.

---