A Son's Call, A Father's Offer

ROMAN

The sonogram machine cost more than most people's cars. I'd spent weeks researching the best model—the one with the clearest imaging, the most advanced features, the safest technology for monitoring our child.

Now it sat in the back of my SUV, still wrapped in protective packaging, a gift that would never be delivered.

"She left about an hour ago, Alpha," Marcus explained, not quite meeting my eyes. "Said something about lunch with friends in the city."

I kept my expression neutral, though my wolf snarled beneath the surface. Seraphina knew I was coming today. We'd discussed it just yesterday—how I wanted to be present for every step of this pregnancy, how I'd clear my schedule for all appointments.

Yet she'd left without even a message.

"Did she say when she'd be back?" I asked, my voice carefully controlled.

Marcus shifted uncomfortably. "No, sir. Just that she might be late."