LUCIEN’S POV

“What do you mean he’s not going with me? He’s my fucking son, Lucien!”

Naomi’s voice cracked through the quiet garden like a whip. She stood at the edge of the path, fists clenched, face flushed red with fury. Her eyes were locked on Andrea, who was curled against Adele’s chest, small arms wrapped tight around her neck, face hidden in the curve of her shoulder.

The sight of him clinging to Adele—my mate—while his own mother screamed for him… it did something violent to me inside.

I stepped forward, putting myself between Naomi and them. My wolf was right under my skin, claws itching, growl already rumbling...