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"Sorry, how is he still taking medications for injuries from weeks ago?" I press on, needing to understand what was going on. So far, the healer has been the only one willing to answer my questions. Liam only drops by to ruffle Ronan's hair and ask if I need anything, but he never sticks around for an actual conversation.

She steals a quick glance at her watch, "He..ermm… He lost his wolf about five years ago. That's why he heals slower than he should. The supplements I provide help boot the process, although not so much."

Five years ago, that's about the same time I left. An obnoxious thought of his predicament being a result of my rejection pushes into my head, but I push back at it. Mates reject each other once in a while, and no one loses their wolf. It's never that serious.

I feel my wolf steer anxiously. The news must've scared her. She's been slowly softening towards Lucien following our stay and even urging me to give him a chance, but I've been doing a great job of ignoring her.

I nod at her explanation, "Thank you. You've been helpful."She flashes me one of her smiles, "Anytime. Just have him give me a call when you're decided."With that, she drives off, leaving me in a maze of my own thoughts. I try to think back to that day to see if I remember any injury, but my mind can barely conjure a decent image.I make my way back home just in time to see Lucien saying his goodbyes to our son. My heart expands with happiness as I watch the easy laughter that spills out of Ronan.

One thing I will miss when we leave is the fact that here, in his pack, he's surrounded by people who love him almost as much as I do.

He pauses at the sight of me, his smile faltering. "Hey," he says, playing with the bag in hand.

I nod in reply, lacing my fingers together as I stare at him. His singlet sticks to his body, leaving grey lines of sweat on almost every part."I was wondering," he begins, "if you and Ronan can come over for dinner?" There's a hint of uncertainty in his tone, as though he's looking to try his luck with me.

I frown, not sure how he hopes I will react to this. "I…" my voice trails off as I spot Ronan, eyes twinkling in delight as he stares at us.

"Dinner? Yess!" He yells with that childlike excitement lacing his tone. He's clutching a toy with one free hand.

I frown deeper, realizing this has gotten to a point of no return. Stealing one last glance at my son, I let my shoulders slump in defeat, "Alright then, but just this one time."

They have identical smiles on their faces as they celebrate, making loud plans for dinner as Lucien lets Ronan tell him a list of food he wants at dinner.I let my gaze linger on him as he heads out, holding Ronan in place as he waves Lucien goodbye. With him gone, I let out an exhale, the exhaustion obvious now as we make our way back inside.So much has happened that's been left unspoken between us. I wonder if it all will ever see the light of the day.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Aurora

I am not sure what compelled me to accept Lucien's invitation for dinner, but here I am, standing at the threshold of his home, an uneasy weight settling in my stomach. It is not the house I once lived in, but it carries the same scent of aged wood and the faint musk of pine—his scent. And the ghosts of our sneaky nights together haunt every pillar. The familiarity unnerves me more than it comforts me.

"Come in," Lucien says, holding the door open. His voice is steady, but there is something else beneath it, something restrained. I hesitate for a second before stepping inside, Ronan's small hand gripping mine tightly.

Sighting Ronan, Lucien smiles, kneeling to Ronan's level and ruffling his hair. "Hello, big guy." Ronan let out a shriek in response, stretching himself to get to Lucien's hair. After lots of failed attempts, Lucien bends his head, giving Ronan access to ruffle his locks.

I stand by the side, fighting the smile tugging at my lips. I'll never get used to the feeling that comes with seeing them together.

"Come on, dinner's waiting," Lucien stretches out his hand to Ronan, who clings tightly to it. We follow him into the open dining room of the pack house.

I have no expectations for tonight, but I sure as hell did not expect freshly cooked meals and a kitchen that looks very used.

That surprises me. "You… cooked?"

A small, almost boyish smirk crosses his face. "I do know how to feed myself, Aurora."

I swallow past the lump forming in my throat. There is something so unnatural about seeing Lucien like this—domestic and almost gentle. I always got to see the calm, calculated, and practical side of him. This is different. Now, he is watching me like I am something fragile, something he can't afford to mishandle again.

Ronan, oblivious to the tension in the room, dashes toward the dining table, already drawn to the spread of food. "Mom, look! My favorite!" He points at the plate of grilled chicken and mashed potatoes, bouncing on the heels of his feet.

My breath hitches. Next to the spread were my favorite spaghetti and meatballs with extra tomato sauce, making the pasta extra juicy. It's just the way I love it. But that isn't what causes the tightness in my throat. He has known me long enough to know and possibly recall my favorite food. It's Ronan's that has me in awe.

Lucien remembered every detail. I can vaguely recall Ronan yapping about his love for chicken and mashed potatoes and how he thinks mashed potatoes are much better than ice cream. Lucien laughed for most of the conversation, and I figured he might chalk it up as a kid's mindless ramble, but he didn't. He listened, and not only did he listen, he made good use of the information.

I force my expression to remain neutral as I take a seat beside Ronan. Lucien sits across from us, his gaze never straying too far from mine. The first few bites are eaten in silence, the only sounds coming from Ronan's delighted hums as he shovels food into his mouth.

"You're a good cook," I finally admit, my voice quieter than I intended.

Lucien's lips twitch, his fork hovering mid-air. "I had a good reason to learn." His eyes meet mine, and the weight of those words settles between us like a tangible force.