A Father's Grief, An Alpha's Suspicion

VANESSA

"Your father killed a man once," I told Fabian as we sat together on his bed. His eyes widened with shock, little hands clutching his favorite stuffed wolf tighter.

"Why?" he whispered, both horrified and fascinated.

I sighed, smoothing his dark hair that was so much like Roman's. "Because that's what being Alpha meant sometimes. He was challenged—formally—by a wolf named Gray."

Fabian leaned forward. "Like in the stories Uncle Leo tells about protecting the pack?"

"Yes, but this was different." I chose my words carefully, wanting my son to understand without frightening him. "Gray challenged your father because of me."

It was a memory I'd tried to bury. The training grounds of Silverclaw Pack, the circle of wolves gathering, the hatred in Gray's eyes as he pointed at me.

"The wolf said terrible things about me being a rogue," I continued. "He called me 'filth' and said your father was weak for letting me stay."