Aria’s POV

Every tick of the clock carved another scar inside me. I’d tried to sleep, tried to let exhaustion pull me under, but every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was him. My baby. My son. Alone, confused, probably crying for me. My arms ached with the phantom weight of him, my heart hollow and screaming all at once.

The packhouse was silent, though I knew there were guards outside, posted at every possible entrance. Tristan had made enemies for years, and Kael’s wolves weren’t exactly without their own shadows. But that night, none of it mattered.

Only my children did.

My daughter had fallen asleep against...