Page 46 of The Alpha's Broken Oath

“How old are the boys, Winter?”

His brows slant. His eyes are impassive against mine.

“Thank you for your help once again,” I try my best to divert the topic. Goddess, do I try to deny whatever has already clicked in his mind?

My boys look like him. Their eyes. Their hair. Anyone with eyes can affirm that he’s their father, but I’d be damned if I admit that out loud.

He helped me bring Adrian here, but what if I tell him he’s the father and he rejects my boys like he did with me?

What if he takes them away from me? So many what ifs, and they all converge on one road. Deacon can’t know.

“Are they mine? Your boys? Asher and Adrian, are they ours?”

Ours? My boys have always been mine.

I see the plea in his eyes, I see the guilt, and I read the regret on his face. Maybe a better woman would cut him out of his misery and tell him the truth. But I’m not. I’ve never been like that since he broke me.

“No. You heard what my son said. Their father’s dead,” my voice comes out colder than I’d intended.

Deacon takes a step back like I’ve slapped him across the face. I expect him to push back and say that I’m lying. I expect him to lash out and call me names for keeping him away from his sons.

Deacon does none of that, though.

He asks of me the one thing I can’t refuse him.

“Can I come with you to see him?”

***

“Jules and I will head out. I never got to say this, but we are sorry for not seeing your calls and texts earlier. Work ran late in the office, and by the time we saw your texts—”

“Hey, I get it, and the most important thing is that Adrian is okay. I’ll call you once we get home.”

I escort Luka and Julie out of Adrian’s room, and as I walk back inside, I halt right by the door.

Asher is seated on Adrian’s bed as he chuckles at whatever his brother is saying. But that’s not the part that clenches my heart to a still.

Deacon sits on a chair near the bed, and he’s laughing with them, too, about something.

The sight itself is enough to make me feel guilty for keeping my sons from their father.

“Mommy, Mommy, can we stay at Deacon’s house tonight?” Asher asks, and I narrow my eyes at the man who’s now giving me a tight smile.

“I don’t think that’s possible, baby. Addie needs to get home and sleep in his own bed.”

Adrian’s smile falters, “Please, Mommy. He has a big pool.”

Big pool, my ass.

“Mr. Cross, can I speak to you for a minute?”

Deacon pulls his chair aside, mumbling something I can’t quite hear to the boys before he turns to face me, eating the distance between us in seconds.

My boys give me their puppy dog eyes, and it’s adorable, but it’s not enough to make me let them stay at Deacon’s house today.

“We are back to “Mr. Cross,” baby? Not Deacon?”

“I appreciate your support, Mr. Cross. Really, I do. But I think I can handle myself and my boys from here.”

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