Chapter 56 Message from the North
The garden was transformed. Heaters glowed softly, their warmth pushing back the winter chill. A small table was set near the frozen fountain, white cloth, candles flickering in glass holders, plates of food: roast chicken, roasted vegetables, fresh bread, a bottle of red wine breathing on the side. Dessert waited under a dome, chocolate tart, berries glistening. The lake beyond shimmered under the moonlight, the woods silent except for the occasional rustle of wind through bare branches.
We sat. Alexander poured the wine, deep crimson, rich and oaky on the tongue. The food was perfect, chicken tender and savory, vegetables caramelized, bread warm and crusty. We ate slowly, talking about nothing and everything: campus gossip, pack updates, the way the snow looked like sugar dusting the pines.
After dessert, we lingered, wine glasses half-full, the candles burning low. The air was cool but bearable, the heaters humming softly. The conversation drifted, comfortable, and intimate.
Then I decided.
“Alexander,” I said quietly, setting my glass down. “I love the Christmas present you got me. The handbag and the new laptop, I opened them two days ago but hadn’t had the opportunity to thank you properly. They’re perfect.”
He smiled, eyes softening. “I’m glad you like them. I wanted you to have something useful for school.”
I nodded, taking a sip of wine to steady my nerves. The moment felt right. “It got me thinking... about family. About the future. Do you want to get married again? Have your own family? Have you thought about remarrying after the death of your ex-wife? Or... do you not want to have kids?”
The question hung between us, heavy and fragile. Alexander’s hand paused on his glass, his expression shifting, surprise, then something deeper, unreadable. He opened his mouth to speak,
His phone rang.
The sharp trill cut through the quiet, shattering the moment. Alexander glanced at the screen, his face tightening.
“It’s my father,” he said, voice low. “He hardly calls, only when something urgent comes up. I need to take this. Go back inside. We’ll continue our date some other time.”
I nodded, disappointment mixing with relief. “Okay.”
He kissed my forehead, quick, warm, then stood, answering the call as he walked toward the house.
I sat there for a moment, the candles guttering low, the heaters humming softly, the lake shimmering beyond the glass. The night felt suddenly colder.
I gathered the dishes, carrying them inside, the warmth of the house enveloping me again. The fire crackled in the living room, casting dancing shadows across the walls. I washed the plates in the kitchen sink, the hot water soothing my hands, the scent of soap mixing with the lingering aroma of dinner.
Upstairs, I slipped into my room, the door clicking shut behind me. The bed was still unmade from this morning, the sheets cool against my skin as I sat on the edge, staring at the wall.
The question had been asked, but not answered.
Alexander POV
The study door closed behind me with a soft, deliberate click, sealing out the faint warmth of the hallway and the lingering scent of cedar smoke from the fire downstairs. The room was dim, lit only by the single desk lamp that cast a pool of golden light across the dark wood and the scattered papers I hadn’t yet cleared. I crossed to the window, pulling the phone from my pocket as it vibrated again. Father’s name on the screen, the sight of it sending a jolt through my chest. He hardly ever called. When he did, it was never casual.
I answered on the second ring, pressing the phone to my ear. “Dad?”
“Alexander.” His voice came through rough but warm, the familiar gravel of it carrying across the miles like a memory. “You sound like you’re bracing for bad news.”
I exhaled, leaning one shoulder against the window frame, the cold glass seeping through my sweater. “You don’t call unless something’s wrong. Are you okay? Is everything all right up there?”
A low chuckle rumbled through the line, dry, amused, the sound I hadn’t heard in months. “Can’t a father miss his son and call to check in?”
My shoulders eased slightly, the knot in my chest loosening. “It’s rare. I’m relieved you’re fine.”
“I am,” he said, and I could picture him, sitting in that old leather chair by the cabin window, the northern woods dark and silent beyond the glass, a glass of whiskey in his hand. “But I didn’t call just to say hello. I heard you found your mate.”
The words landed like stones in still water. I straightened, pulse kicking up. “Word travels fast.”
“Word always travels when it’s important,” he replied, amusement fading into something graver. “I called to warn you. Keep her safe, son. I got a tip, Ironthorn and what’s left of Moonclaw are on the hunt for her.”
My grip tightened on the phone. “Moonclaw’s broken. I took out every member who knew about her identity.”
“You took out the ones you saw,” he corrected gently. “They’re scattered, regrouping. And Ironthorn… they’ve been sniffing for years. They know the Silver heir is alive. They don’t know where yet, but they’re closing in. They won’t stop at anything to get her.”
The room felt colder suddenly, the lamp’s light too thin against the shadows. “They won’t touch her.”
“I know you’ll protect her,” he said. “But she needs to know. Have you told her anything about her true origin? Does she know she’s from the Silver Pack?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, exhaling slowly. “No. It’s too much. She’s only just starting to understand the awakening. Even when she half-shifted during the Moonclaw attack, she refused to talk about it afterward. I don’t want to pressure her until she’s ready.”
A pause on the other end. Then a low, knowing chuckle. “Since you’re already sleeping with her, telling her about her true family shouldn’t be that difficult.”
Heat climbed my neck. “How the hell do you…”
“I have my ways,” he said, smug satisfaction in every syllable. “And I hope Ben catches you in bed one of these days. I could use some drama in my life. This cabin gets boring, no excitement, no scandal. Just me, the woods, and too much quiet.”
I snorted despite myself. “Nobody forced you to go stay there.”
“True. But if you decide to marry her, really marry her, and give me grandkids, I might move back closer. Or even with you. A real marriage this time. Not the kind you had with Eleanor. A mate bond. The kind that lasts.”
The words landed heavier than I expected. I glanced toward the door, picturing Maddie in her room down the hall, curled up, probably still shaken from the deck, probably still hiding whatever she wasn’t ready to share. The thought of marrying her, really marrying her, claiming her in front of the pack, building something permanent, settled in my chest like a promise I hadn’t known I wanted until now.
“I have that in mind,” I said quietly.
“Good,” he replied, voice softening. “I love you, son. Keep her safe. And when you’re ready… bring her to meet me. I want to see the woman who finally got through that armor of yours.”
“I will.”
The line went quiet, then he ended the call with a soft click.
I stood there for a long moment, phone still in my hand, staring at the dark window. The estate grounds stretched beyond the glass, snow-dusted, silent, beautiful. But the warning lingered: Ironthorn and Moonclaw. They were coming. And Maddie, my mate, my future, was in the center of it.
I exhaled, setting the phone on the desk. Soon, I’d tell her. Not everything, not yet, but enough. She needed to know the danger. And maybe, just maybe, she’d be ready to talk about what happened when she half shifted. About the power I knew was inside her.
About us.
But tonight… tonight I’d let her sleep. Let her rest.
Because the storm was coming.
And when it did, we’d face it together.