Chapter 157

Chapter 157
Seraphina's POV

One afternoon, I found him in the treatment center's small library, buried in books about infant care and wolf cub development.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He looked up, his expression somewhat sheepish. "Research. I want to know everything. What he'll go through as he grows, how to help him through his first shift, what signs to watch for..." He gestured at the pile of books. "I've been a terrible father so far. I want to do better."

"You're not terrible." The words came out before I could stop them, but they were true. "You saved his life, Lucian. You nearly died for him."

"That's just the bare minimum." He closed the book, his jaw tight. "I should have been there from the beginning. Should have been at every checkup, every milestone. But I was..." He stopped.

"You were dealing with your father's manipulation," I said quietly. "And Mira's entanglement. And your own demons."

"That's not an excuse."

"No," I nodded. "But it's an explanation. And maybe... maybe we should stop dwelling on the unchangeable past and focus on what we can change."

Hope flickered in his eyes. "What can we change?"

I looked away, suddenly nervous. "Vitalis needs his parents. He needs us to at least be civil. To work together."

"Civil." Lucian's voice was calm, yet carried an imperceptible expectation. "Is civility all you want from me?"

"I don't know what I want." I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. "I'm confused, Lucian. Part of me wants to forgive you, to try again. But another part..." I hugged myself, saying softly, "Another part is scared. What if you hurt me again? What if I let you back in and you choose duty over us again?"

He moved to my side, not touching me, but close enough for me to feel his warmth.

"I can't promise I'll be perfect," he said. "Or that I won't make mistakes. But I swear, Seraphina—I will never choose duty over you again. You and Vitalis are my priority. My only priority."

"Words are easy."

"Then let me prove it to you." His voice was hoarse but firm. "Give me one chance. That's all I'm asking."

"I need time," I finally said.

"I'll wait." He didn't hesitate. "However long."

The conversation left me unsettled. That evening, I sought out Ember. She was tending herbs in the garden, and when I approached, she looked up with gentle, knowing eyes.

"You've been quiet," she said, settling beside me.

"Just thinking."

"About Lucian?"

I nodded. "He's changed... He's present, attentive. Like he's become a completely different person."

"Maybe he really has changed." Ember plucked a flower, twirling it between her fingers. "Seraphina, I saw him at the ceremony. I saw the way he looked at you and Vitalis. That wasn't duty. That wasn't obligation. That was love. Desperate, all-consuming love."

"I know." I said quietly. "That's exactly what scares me. What if it's only temporary? What if we go back to Blackmane Pack and he reverts to his old self?"

"Then you leave," Ember said firmly. "Take Vitalis and leave, and this time don't look back. But Seraphina..." She took my hand. "What if he really has changed? Are you really willing to give up a chance at happiness because you're afraid?"

"It's not just fear." I looked down at our joined hands. "It's that I don't know if I can survive being hurt by him again. The first time nearly destroyed me."

"Some people spend their whole lives proving they've changed," Ember said softly. "Some people prove it in a single moment of life and death. Lucian nearly died for you and Vitalis. Isn't that enough?"

The sunset painted the sky gold and pink. I thought about Lucian's face during the ceremony, about him singing to Vitalis, about those infant care books and the way he constantly checked on us.

Maybe Ember was right. Maybe I was letting fear stop me from obtaining the happiness that should be mine.

Her words stayed with me through dinner. By the time darkness fell and the full moon rose, I finally understood what I needed to do.

That night, I stood by the window with Vitalis in my arms, watching the full moon rise. Silver moonlight filled the room, making everything seem ethereal and sacred.

Before I heard him, I sensed Lucian's approach. The mate bond hummed, alerting me to his presence.

"Can't sleep?" His voice came from the doorway, soft and careful.

"Just watching the moon." I didn't turn around. "It's beautiful tonight."

He moved closer, stopping behind me. I could feel his warmth, the pull of the bond almost making me want to lean back into his embrace.

"I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness," he said quietly. "I know the ways I hurt you may never heal. But please, Seraphina—let me try to make it right. Not as your Alpha. Not out of obligation. But as Vitalis's father. As your mate. As the man who's loved you since the moonlight chose you."

I turned slowly, Vitalis nestled in my arms. Lucian's face was illuminated by moonlight, every emotion laid bare.

"I need time," I said again. But this time, I added: "But I'm willing to give you a chance. To give us a chance."

The hope in his eyes was almost heartbreaking.

"Really?"

"One step at a time," I cautioned. "Slowly. We rebuild trust, we learn to communicate. No more secrets, no more choosing duty over family."

"Anything." He reached out hesitantly, and when I didn't pull away, his hand cupped my face. "I'll do anything you ask. I'll prove every day that I'm worthy of you."

I didn't answer with words. Instead, I carefully placed Vitalis in his cradle, making sure he was secure. Then I turned to face Lucian and, slowly, deliberately, reached up to touch his face.

His skin was warm beneath my palm. His eyes fluttered closed, and I felt him tremble.

"I'm not promising forever," I said softly. "Not even tomorrow. But I'm willing to try. For Vitalis. And for us."

When he opened his eyes, they were wet. "That's more than I deserve."

"Maybe." I managed a faint smile. "But apparently, I can't help myself with you."

He caught my hand, pressing it more firmly against his cheek. The mate bond flowed between us, warm and bright, full of hope.

We didn't kiss. Didn't embrace. We simply stood in the moonlight, my hand on his face, his hand covering mine. This restraint was deliberate—a promise that we would take this slowly, carefully building something real instead of rushing into passion that might burn out.

"We'll take it one day at a time," I said.

"One day at a time," he echoed. "I'll prove to you that I'm worth your trust. I swear it."