I scanned the crowded terminal, searching for Emma's familiar face among the returning campers. Something in the air felt different-a scent, perhaps, or just an inexplicable feeling that made my wolf stir.
Just as I looked up, a group of elderly travelers walked past, chatting and laughing. Their tour guide, Wesley Hartman, held a small flag above his head, momentarily blocking my view of the opposite side of the terminal.
"This way, please! Stay together!" Wesley called out, his voice carrying over the airport noise.
As the group passed, I caught a glimpse of something-someone-that made my heart skip. A woman with chestnut hair, her hand clasped in another's. Before I could focus, they disappeared into the crowd.
"Daddy~!"
A sweet voice cut through my thoughts. Emma was running toward me, her blonde hair bouncing with each step, her face lit up with excitement.
I half-squatted, ignoring the twinge in my side where the scar from Olivia's knife remained, and caught Emma as she launched herself into my arms.
"Daddy, I miss you so much!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around my neck.
I lifted her, breathing in her familiar scent. "I missed you too, princess."
In the two years since Olivia's disappearance, Emma had become even more attached to me. What had started as Victoria's orchestration-Emma's attempts to please me-had evolved
into genuine affection. She truly saw me as her father now.
"Did you have fun at camp?" I asked, setting her down but keeping hold of her hand.
Emma nodded enthusiastically. "I won first place in the tracking competition! Miss Parker said
I have natural talent!"
Speaking of Miss Parker, the training den teacher approached us with a polite smile. "Alpha
King Stone, it's good to see you."
"Miss Parker," I acknowledged with a nod. "I trust Emma behaved herself?"
Her followers knew everything-her childhood connection with Ethan, their five- year separation
during his marriage to Olivia Winters, and their unwavering bond despite all complications.
"Seeing Mr. Stone and his chosen partner, I believe in true love again," I remarked, genuinely
moved by their devotion.
My friend sighed dreamily. "A man as powerful and handsome as Stone, and Miss Frost is disabled, but he never rejected her and still protects her like his first love."
I frowned slightly, a question forming. "If he values her so much, why hasn't he married her
yet? It's been two years since his mate's death."
"Don't you know?" my friend replied, lowering her voice. "He's observing the three-year
mourning period for Matriarch Evelyn Stone. They were exceptionally close, and pack tradition demands respect for such bonds."
I noticed Victoria's knuckles whitening as she gripped her wheelchair's armrests. She must
have overheard us.
"That old woman," my friend continued, oblivious to Victoria's reaction. "Even in death, she
delays their happiness."
(Olivia's POV)
I felt a chill run down my spine as I overheard the conversation. Grandmother Evelyn was dead? The news hit me harder than I expected.
Lucas must have noticed my reaction because his grip on my hand tightened. "Are you
alright?" he asked quietly.
I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. We were walking past the group where Ethan stood with Victoria and Emma, the perfect family portrait.
The sight of them together-Ethan's protective stance beside Victoria's wheelchair, Emma's adoring gaze up at him-was a cruel reminder of everything I had lost. My daughter. My mate. My place in the pack.
"Liv, Lucas called softly, his gray eyes filled with concern.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Two years of therapy hadn't erased the
pain, but they had taught me to manage it.
"I'm fine," I assured him, my voice steadier than I felt.
Lucas looked relieved but heartbroken. I knew he was remembering how he'd
found me after my suicide attempt in Moonstone River.
3/0
Victoria had exploited Olivia's grief with a similar urn, another manipulation in her campaign to destroy Olivia.
When they arrived at the cemetery, Olivia approached her daughter's grave with trepidation. Seeing the untouched memorial, she fell to her knees, tears of relief streaming down her face. "She's still here," Olivia whispered. "She was here all
along."
The next morning, they met with Dr. Harold Bennett at Crescent Moon Medical Center. The elderly healer reviewed Evelyn Winters' medical records with careful attention.
âI'd like to examine her personally before making any definitive recommendations," Dr. Bennett said, his voice kind but professional. "Can you arrange for her transfer?"
Olivia nodded, relief evident in her expression. "Yes, of course."
"I'll handle the arrangements," Lucas offered. "A specialized medical team and private flight. We'll have her here within days."
Olivia squeezed his hand gratefully. "Thank you, Lucas. I don't know what I would
have done without you."
After Evelyn's transfer and thorough examination, Dr. Bennett developed a
surgical plan. However, Evelyn's condition required a period of hospitalization to strengthen her before the procedure.
"She's too weak for immediate surgery," Dr. Bennett explained. "We need to build her strength first."
Olivia nodded, accepting the reality of the situation. "How long?"
"At least three weeks," the doctor replied. "Possibly longer."
That evening, Lucas showed Olivia to his private residence near the medical
center. "You'll stay here," he said, his tone brooking no argument. "It's close to your mother, and I have plenty of room."
Later, he pressed a credit card into her hand. "For expenses. Whatever you
need."
Olivia tried to refuse. "Lucas, you've done enough-"
"Please," he interrupted. "After everything you've been through, let me do this
much."
She reluctantly accepted, though she had no intention of using it except in emergencies.
+15 Points >
That night, Olivia approached Lucas with another request. "I have these crystal
design blueprints," she explained, showing him her work. "Could you deliver them to Gwendolyn Pierce?"
Lucas raised an eyebrow. "The fashion icon? Head of the Pierce family?"
Olivia nodded. "Her patronage could launch my career as a designer. I heard Victoria Frost is the frontrunner this year, but...'
"Consider it done," Lucas promised.
At Gwendolyn Pierce's celebration at Moonlit Glade, Ethan Stone stood beside Victoria Frost's wheelchair. Despite her physical limitations, Victoria commanded attention in her elegant gown, her crystal jewelry catching the light.
Gwendolyn Pierce, regal in her bearing, approached the gathering. After exchanging formal greetings, she raised her glass.
"The crystal pieces I'll be wearing for my celebration this year will be entrusted to
Olivia Winters."
Victoria, who had wheeled herself closer in anticipation of hearing her own name, froze. She turned slowly, her face a mask of shock.
There, standing across the room, was Olivia Winters-the woman everyone
believed had died two years ago.
Ethan stared, his amber eyes wide with disbelief, his face draining of color as if
he'd seen a ghost.
As Olivia approached, the reality sunk in: Olivia Winters had returned.