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Violet

Violet froze. She’d known he would be getting impatient. She was going to have to tell Arabella the truth soon. Or Tristan would probably take matters into his own hands and tell her daughter himself.

"I'll do it tonight. I'll do it when I tell her about the camps."

"How do you think she's going to take it?"

She was going to take it very well. That's what Violet was afraid of.

Not that she wanted her daughter to experience a life of unhappiness. Not that she ever wanted her to wonder if her father loved or cared about her. She didn't want her to experience a single second of self-doubt. But the truth was that she was probably just young enough for this not to leave a lasting scar. When she was an adult, she would probably just remember the giddiness of finding her father – she wouldn't remember not having him.

And if Violet were lucky, she wouldn't remember that her mother deliberately chose to keep them apart for the first six years of her life. Oh, she might know it, she might understand the facts, but she wouldn't feel it. Or maybe she would. Maybe Violet was terribly wrong. Maybe she had miscalculated, and she'd caused her daughter to suffer instead. Just because her own father had been a monster in her eyes didn't mean that Arabella would understand that.

Violet had been so careful about shielding Arabella from anyone who behaved that way that she might not have any true understanding of what a bad father could be like, the way he could ruin your life and dominate all of your decisions.

So, yes. Arabella would probably take it well. She was six years old, and she would be excited to have a father in her life, especially one that was going to send her to a camp. One who wanted to take her to parks and arcades. One who bought her a cabin where she could live with her family.

One who had an entire pack that he would one day want her to join.

No. Stop thinking like that. You’ve got to let go of this constant overreaction panic.

The problem was her brain, and her heart, and her nervous system didn't think it was an overreaction. For the first eighteen years of her life, her reactions had been appropriate for what was going on.

It was taking her body and mind a while to catch up.

She’d read enough self-help books to know that was normal.

Tristan was still staring at her, waiting for her to respond.

Luckily all the chaos in the arcade was a good excuse. "I think she’ll be happy. I think she's going to want to hang out with you. So be ready for that."

"Oh, I can't wait. I help run the pack, but when I'm not out on a smoke jumper job, I have plenty of free time."

For the first time, she thought maybe he might be lonely. She never really let herself think about being lonely. Loneliness didn't matter to her. Safety was more important.

But here he was, committed to her for the rest of his life, when she gave no guarantees that she would ever be his mate. He was willing to give up dating and falling in love with somebody else. Just so he could be with her. Because of this mystical connection they shared.

It was true she felt the connection too. And she was never going to date anyone again. Tristan had been it for her. But he could meet someone else. He had a lot to offer. But she understood the complications. A young, single female shifter would not want to be with a male who had a mate hanging around town with their daughter. That new female would always feel like she was in second place. Even if Violet made no move on him. That was just how it was.

He could date humans. They wouldn’t know about the bond. And they might not care if they did. Or he could date casually; there were even female shifters who were interested in doing that.

But he apparently didn't want to.

She just wasn't sure how she would handle the weight of his expectation. Probably not very well, if she was honest with herself, which she tried to be. Lying to herself or living in denial reminded her too much of her mother.

"She may prefer you to me." Violet had tried to say that as a joke, but it came out as a whisper and her voice cracked. Horrified, she bit down on her lip.

Tristan got all serious. "You know that I'm not trying to replace you as her mother. I will always respect that. Even if we disagree. We might argue, and we may have to hash a few things out. But that doesn't mean that I don't respect your place in her life."

She tried not to cry again, but her eyes filled with tears.

He looked pained. She was sure her display was making him uncomfortable.

"My mother is great. Maybe you could meet her and my father. Then you'd see that I have a different perspective,” he said.

Oh great.That was the last thing she needed. Meeting his perfect parents. She would definitely be found lacking. "Maybe later."

"I’ve already told Roman and Everleigh, that's his mate, that I have a pup. They will keep it a secret for now. But eventually, it will get out. I would like for my family to meet Arabella."

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