Page 52 of The Alpha's Forbidden Heir

"What now?" he asks, his tone clipped.

The guard salutes sharply. "Beta, Alpha. You're needed urgently by the east patrol unit. They've reported unusual movement near the perimeter."

Rook nods, setting his glass down. "On it." He stands and turns to me. "Looks like your moment of peace is over."

"Was it ever peaceful?" I shoot back dryly.

Rook smirks but doesn't reply as he follows the guard out.

I watch them go, rolling my shoulders to shake off the tension from Nathaniel's visit. With one last glance at the stack of letters on my desk, I turn and head out, my mind already on the next thing demanding my attention.

As I step back into the pack house, the faint sound of laughter carries through the halls. I pause, cocking my head toward the noise, and feel an unfamiliar pull in my chest.

Following the sound, I find myself standing just outside the kitchen doorway. The scent of something sweet wafts through the air, mingling with the sound of childish giggles and Aria's soft, melodic laughter.

Elias is perched on a stool at the counter, covered head to toe in flour and grinning like he's just conquered the world. Aria stands next to him, her hair slightly tousled and a streak of batter smeared across her cheek.

"Mom, it's supposed to go in the bowl!" Elias exclaims, his little hands waving dramatically.

Aria laughs, holding up her hands defensively. "Hey, I never claimed to be a master chef. Besides, you're the one who started throwing flour!"

"That was an accident!" Elias protests, though his mischievous grin says otherwise.

"Sure it was," Aria teases, scooping a fingerful of batter and flicking it at him.

Elias shrieks with laughter, dodging her attempt, and the sound is so carefree, so light, that I can't help but stop and watch.

They don't notice me standing there, and for once, I don't announce myself. I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, and just... observe.

Aria leans down to Elias, wiping a smudge of batter off his nose with her thumb. "Alright, master chef, what's next? Your dad's probably going to expect a masterpiece."

Elias's eyes light up, and he beams. "Dad's going to love this!"

Something warm spreads in my chest at the word "dad." It isn't just pride—it's something deeper, something I can't name but feels undeniably good.

I'm not used to this. The pack, the politics, the battles—those are my constants. But this? Watching my son laugh like he doesn't have a single care in the world and seeing Aria's face lit with genuine joy? It's new. And it's good.

I stay there for a while, unnoticed, content to be an outsider to this moment.

I stay silent a moment longer, until Aria finally notices me. Her smile falters, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as her expression cools. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to see that you're both terrible at keeping the kitchen clean," I say with a smirk, pushing off the doorframe.

"Hey!" Elias protests, spinning to face me. "We're making something amazing!"

Aria arches an eyebrow. "Amazing is... generous. It's edible. Probably."

I chuckle, stepping closer. "Looks like you're having fun, at least."

"Yeah!" Elias says, running up to me, batter-covered hands outstretched. "Do you wanna help, Dad?"

I raise my hands defensively, taking a step back. "Oh no, you don't. I'm terrible at cooking."

Elias's brow furrows. "Really? But you're good at everything else."

"Not this," I admit with a grin. "Trust me, kid. If I help, whatever you're making won't be edible."

Aria snorts, clearly amused. "For once, I agree with him. Let's not risk it."

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