I sighed, recalling the turbulent events of the past few years. “I went to Seattle, far from everything. Tried to build a normal life, but the past always caught up with me. And now I'm here, searching for my children.”
“Children?” Cierce raised an eyebrow, surprised.
I nodded, sharing with her the painful truth about the triplets who were taken from me. “Cassian, Dorian, and Kane. They were kidnapped, and I can't ignore that.”
Cierce mirrored my concern in her gaze. “Kidnapped? Why would someone do that?”
“That's what I'm trying to find out. And apparently, the pack isn't willing to help. However, Hunter decided to help me, and that was really nice of him.”
She agreed, “Indeed, Hunter can be generous when he wants. I was surprised when he asked me to schedule this meeting yesterday morning.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Are you sure it was Hunter who asked you to schedule the meeting yesterday morning?”
Cierce nodded, confident in her response. “Yes, it was him. Just yesterday, he came in early, asked me to organize everything, and make sure we were all here today.”
Perplexity grew within me. “That's strange. The pack's vote happened last night. There's no way Hunter could have known that the pack wouldn't help me.”
Cierce pondered for a moment. “Well, he's the alpha. Maybe he sensed something or preferred to be ahead of the events.”
I agreed, accepting that explanation, at least for now. “Could be.”
At that moment, a figure appeared in the reception, drawing Cierce's attention. She quickly stood up. “I need to attend to this, Fierce. Looks like the meeting is about to start.”
I nodded, thanking her for the information. “Alright, I just remembered I have some matters to attend to in Denver, and I'll be back later. Please let Hunter know.”
Cierce nodded. “No problem, I'll let him know.”
With a thank you, I left Hunter's company and headed for the door, deciding I didn't want to be stuck in the reception while Hunter discussed his affairs. It was time to face some issues I had left behind.
---
The engine's roar echoed through the deserted streets of Denver as I drove seemingly aimlessly. My mind, however, was filled with chaotic thoughts, each one linked to the desperate search for my children. Anxiety was palpable as I wandered through memories, until, unknowingly, I stopped in front of the house that had once been a refuge and source of comfort. It was Constance's house, the woman who helped me become who I am.
I got out of the car and approached the residence, cautiously observing to check if anyone still occupied the place. Apparently empty, I disguised my intentions and skillfully approached the door.
With a deep breath, I decided to proceed. The door, even after all these years, yielded to the firm touch of my hand. I entered the place, and the familiarity of the atmosphere became evident. The house was practically untouched, remaining a sanctuary of the past.
I climbed the stairs, reminiscing about the days when this place was my sanctuary. Constance's room and mine were frozen in time. Photos, clothes, and the feeling that something important had remained there.
Then, I descended to the kitchen, where Constance prepared meals that fed more than just our bodies. Opening the refrigerator was a glimpse of the past, a portal to memories of a time when fate was less cruel.
The interior of the house remained virtually untouched, like a shrine of memories that I, for a moment, would rather forget. Sheets covered the sofas, and shelves held forgotten secrets. Removing one of the sheets, I came across a photo of Constance and her daughter Jessie.
It was then that my eyes fixed on the glass door leading to the backyard. Someone had fixed it, and the grass was cut, as if someone cared for this place. My mind revolved around possibilities, trying to understand who could have decided to preserve this location.
I opened the door and faced the serene backyard, illuminated by the sunlight. The wind carried with it the memory of what had happened there. The sensation was an echo of the past, but something had changed.
I knelt on the grass, my gaze fixed on the ground where, years ago, I buried Ulrich and Constance. The earth still held the cold feeling of the night everything changed. I closed my eyes, lost in painful memories.
The pain of loss and difficult choices manifested in tears that escaped from my eyes. It wasn't just about Constance's death but Hunter's betrayal, the circumstances that led me to bury Ulrich and Constance.
I stayed there, in that backyard that was a scene of secrets, trying to find answers to questions echoing in my mind. What happened there after I left? Who took care of this place? And most urgently, where were my children now?
The backyard door creaked softly, indicating that someone was approaching. I looked up and found Hunter standing, watching me with a serious expression. He remained silent for a moment before saying:
“Fierce, you shouldn't be here.”
I stood up, facing him with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. “How did you find me here?”
The answer came with a hint of arrogance. “I'm the alpha. Finding someone isn't a challenge for me.”
“Hunter, since when do you know about this place?” I insisted, serious.
He replied calmly, revealing a truth I didn't expect. “Since the night you killed Ulrich here.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “How do you know about that?”
“I was here after you killed Ulrich,” he admitted. “I took care of this house since then, removed the body before Alastair found out what happened. I lied to him, said Ulrich ran away.”
Hunter's revelation left me perplexed. His actions, a mix of care and manipulation, began to make sense. However, a question lingered in the air.
“Why, Hunter? Why did you do all of this?”
“Isn't it obvious?” Hunter responded, approaching. The desire reflected in his eyes made my lips part.
He came closer to me, and the magnetism between us resurfaced. It seemed like we were about to reignite a flame that never completely extinguished.
However, before our lips could meet, we were interrupted by Hunter's driver, who entered the yard, disturbing the moment.
“Do you need anything, Mr. Blackthorn?” the driver asked.
Hunter gave me a look before addressing the driver. “Maybe it's better if we go.”
I nodded, agreeing. “You're right. We can't let more time pass while Cassian, Dorian, and Kane are in danger.”
Hunter nodded in agreement, and we both headed for the car. As I moved away from Constance's house, questions, and revelations continued to echo in my mind, mixed with the fear of what might be happening to my children.