Her weight settles against me, light but solid in her pretty pink sweater, with her scent filling my lungs. My first thought is that this must be some kind of punishment. That she’s still angry at Knox, maybe all of us, and sitting here is her way of sayingI choose him instead of you.
But my second thought comes faster, quieter—thank you.
Because even if this is a punishment for my pack alpha, I’ll take it. I’ll take every second of her pressed against me, the warmth of her back against my chest, the sound of her small, nervous breaths.
Knox doesn’t look pleased—his nostrils flare—but he doesn’t say anything about it. “The number?”
Skyla’s voice is soft as her eyes roll upward, remembering it. She says each number slow and precise. Like she’s scared that if she says it too fast, it’ll disappear again.
Knox dials, then puts it on speaker.
The line rings once.
Dakota inches a little closer.
Then twice.
Alex stares at the phone, the forgotten burgers sizzling away.
Three times.
And then?—
Click.
“Hello?” An alpha answers with a gruff rumble.
“Daddy?” Skyla’s brown eyes are already filled with tears.
“Skyla?” The voice on the other end breaks with disbelief, but it’s enough to make the hairs on my arms rise.
Skyla lets out a sob that sounds like it’s been locked in her chest for years. “Daddy.”
There’s a sharp sound through the receiver, like the phone clattering against a countertop, followed by muffled noise—movement, hurried footsteps, something falling. Then the alpha’s voice comes back, thick and shaking.
“Oh my God, sweetheart—Deborah! Robert!” he yells, his voice booming so loud it echoes through the tiny speaker. “Get in here! It’s Skyla! Skyla’s on the phone!”
Dakota’s hand flies up to his mouth, eyes shining. Knox’s shoulders sag, the tension melting from his body. Alex turns off the grill without even looking.
On the other end of the phone, there’s chaos—another voice, higher and frantic, overlapping with the deep, steady rumble of another alpha.
“Skyla?” a woman cries out. “Baby, is it really you?”
“Mom,” Skyla whispers, her voice cracking. She’s clutching Knox’s phone with both hands now, her body trembling. “It’s me.”
The older omega’s voice breaks again, a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. “We thought we’d never hear from you again,” she says.
Skyla covers her mouth, the tears falling freely now, and I can’t tear my eyes away from her. I’ve seen her stoic, screaming, and falling apart—but I’ve never seen hershakelike this. It’s like her whole world is cracking open and being rebuilt in the same breath.
Knox’s hand twitches across me, like he wants to reach for her but knows better than to interrupt.
“We have called Brayden every week like clockwork,” a deeper voice says. It must be her other father, Robert. “I’m so glad he finally let you call.”
Skyla freezes, she’s stone still in my arms. The warmthdrains from her face. Her lips part, but nothing comes out at first—then a soft sound, like she’s trying to breathe through it. “He didn’t let me call,” she says finally, voice trembling. “He—Brayden—he rejected me.”
There’s a beat of silence. Then?—
A sharp gasp from her mom, followed by a low, vicious roar from one of her dads.
