CHAPTER 73

CHAPTER 73
Dan’s POV

I hadn’t slept in forty-eight hours.  The few times I’d closed my eyes, the world sharpened instead of fading every creak in the house like a gunshot, every tiny hitch in Singurd’s breathing loud enough to jolt me upright. 

My son lay in the bassinet beside Emerald’s bed, tiny chest rising and falling under the soft glow of the monitor. He was stable, thank God. Small, but fighting. Just like his mother.

Emerald hadn’t woken up since the birth.

Two days on the IV drip my mother had rigged up in our bedroom. 

Victoria moved around the room like a ghost in scrubs, checking vitals, adjusting fluids, murmuring that Emerald’s body had simply crashed after the trauma of a breech home birth. 

But I noticed the way her eyes lingered on me, not on her patient. I am the last person she should be worried about.

“Dan,” she said quietly, “you need to eat something.”

“I’m fine.” My voice came out rougher than I meant for it to be. I sat on the edge of the bed, Emerald’s cold hand in mine. 

Her fingers felt too fragile and cold. The woman who had gripped me hard enough to draw blood while pushing our son into the world now lay still as marble. “She should’ve woken up by now.”

Victoria sighed and crossed her arms. “Her body is healing. Give it time.”

Time. I wanted to laugh. Time was the one thing that felt like I was running out off.

My skin itched like fire ants were crawling underneath it. My gums ached, nothing feels normal almost as if I am losing my mind.

Every time I looked at the window, the fading daylight made my eyes sting, and the forest beyond our property called to me in a way I couldn’t explain. Maybe I needed to stretch my legs and I would feel fine.

I stood too fast because the room tilted for half a second, then snapped into focus. I could smell the faint metallic tang of the IV line, the lavender cleaner Luca had used, and underneath it all blood. Not much. Just the memory of birth.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair.

Victoria watched me too closely. “You’ve been under enormous stress. The birth. Your wife unconscious. Any man would be—”

“I’m not any man right now.” The words slipped out. I flexed my hands. The knuckles looked bigger, veins standing out like cords. 

Earlier I’d split a wooden chair just by gripping the back too hard when Elias cried. I told Luca it was just old furniture. He didn’t believe me, hell I didn’t believe myself.

My mother stepped closer. For the first time in years, her face held something soft. Almost regretful. “Daniel, there are things I never told you about your father.”

I laughed, short and bitter. “Now? You want to do family history now while Emerald is lying here like this?”

She didn’t flinch at my words, typical selfish mother. “He was an Alpha, Dan.” The word landed like a stone in still water. 

It should’ve sounded ridiculous. Instead, something deep in my chest stirred recognizing it.

I stared at her. “What?”

“Your father wasn’t just a random man. He carried the bloodline, old blood. The kind that changes you when the time comes. I thought suppressing it, keeping you away from the old ways, might stop it from ever waking up.” Her gaze flicked to the window, where the moon would rise in a few hours. “I was wrong. It’s starting.”

My heart slammed against my ribs, in a horrible way I drew in a breathe. I could hear Elias’s heartbeat across the room, tiny and fast, and Emerald’s slower, steadier one beneath it. “You’re telling me I’m turning into some kind of—”

“Werewolf,” she finished calmly. “Not full yet. The first shift is slow and painful. It feeds on stress, on emotion.” I backed up until I hit the wall. 

The wood groaned under my shoulder blades. “This is insane. I’m exhausted. I’m terrified of losing my wife and son. That’s all this is.”

Even as I said it, I knew it was a lie. Last night I’d caught the scent of a deer two miles into the forest. I’d stood at the back door for twenty minutes fighting the urge to run after it. My nails had grown sharper. When I looked in the mirror, my eyes caught the light like an animal’s.

Victoria placed a hand on my arm. I felt the warmth of her skin through my clothing.

“You’re stronger now, faster. Your senses are waking up. The anger you feel when you think about losing them—” she nodded toward Emerald and Sigurd “—it’s going to get worse before it gets better. You have to learn control before the full moon hits.”

I looked at Emerald’s pale face. The woman I’d dragged into my dark world. The one who’d chosen a home birth because she trusted me more than hospitals. The mother of my son.

“I don’t have time for control,” I said, voice breaking. “I need her back. I need to keep them safe. There’s still the body in the forest. Luca’s covering for me but if anyone finds—”

A low growl built in my throat. Actual growl. I clamped my jaw shut, horrified.

Victoria’s eyes widened slightly, but she nodded. “That instinct? That’s the Alpha blood. It will make you a protector or a monster. Your father chose the second path. Don’t repeat his mistakes.”

I returned to Emerald’s side and dropped to my knees, pressing my forehead to her hand. She smelled like sweat and antiseptic and something uniquely her wildflowers and steel. I breathed her in, and for a moment the itching under my skin eased.

“Come back to me,” I whispered. “Please, baby. I can’t do this without you. Sigurd needs you. I need you.” My voice dropped even lower.

“There’s something wrong with me. Something I don’t understand. But I swear I’ll figure it out. I’ll keep you both safe from everything.”A weak squeeze answered me.

I jerked my head up. Emerald’s eyes were open barely. Groggy, glassy with pain but open.

“Dan?” Her voice was a thread.

Relief crashed over me so hard I nearly collapsed. Tears burned my eyes. I climbed onto the bed carefully and pulled her gently against my chest, mindful of the IV. She felt so small and so precious.

“I’m here. We’re all here. Sigurd is perfect. He’s beautiful, Em. He looks like you.”

She smiled faintly, then winced.

“I know. Mom—Victoria says you’re going to be okay. You fought like hell.” Her gaze searched mine. Even half-conscious, she knew me too well. 

“Something’s different. Your eyes…” I forced a smile and brushed hair from her face. My hand trembled.

“I’m just tired, baby. Don’t worry about me. You focus on getting stronger. We’ve got a son who needs his mom.”

Victoria quietly slipped out, giving us the moment. I held Emerald while she drifted in and out, murmuring about the baby, about the future we’d barely begun to plan. 

Every time a new wave of heat or pain rolled through my body, I buried my face in her neck and breathed her in.

The moon was rising. I could feel it pulling at my bones like a magnet.

But for now, with Emerald awake and our son sleeping peacefully beside us, I pushed the beast down.

I would learn to control this, for them.

I had to.

Because if I couldn’t the same hands that now cradled my family so gently might one day become claws. And I would rather die than ever hurt them.