It was maddening, impossible, horrifying.
And it didn’t matter.
She was his mate.
She was the mother of his child.
And every instinct inside him bent toward her, even as his rational mind scrambled to make sense of the impossible.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice raw-edged
She laughed, short, sharp, broken. “Tell you? Arthur, I wouldn’t exactly have been welcome in your pack once I realized it myself.”
The guilt hit him like a blow.
But then her flames brightened, flaring as she drew the girl behind her.
He took a shaky breath.
“Dani,” he whispered, voice torn between awe and agony, “you’re a witch.”
“And you,” she said, voice trembling with fury, “are not getting anywhere near my daughter.”
His daughter.
Arthur’s chest cracked open. A rumbling growl built in his chest. “She’s mine.”
Her breath hitched.
The girl looked between them, confused, frightened, small.
Arthur bared his teeth.
“She’s mine,” he repeated, voice low and dangerous, “isn’t she?”
Dani shut her eyes.
That was enough.
He felt the truth lock into place like a blade sliding home.
Dominic stepped warily forward. “Arthur, this isn’t the place…”
“Silence,” Arthur snarled without looking at him.
A witch, tall and dressed in robes, her long white hair braided down her back, moved between the groups, hands raised in calm authority.
“Alpha,” she said, “my name is Lavinia . I am the High Sister of the Salem Coven. Answer me plainly. Is Dani Taylor your true mate?”
Arthur didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Dani’s eyes snapped open.
Her daughter,theirdaughter, clung to her.
Lavinia smiled a cool, ancient smile.
“Then this,” she said, “is simple.”
