The Father He Never Knew

ROMAN

"Fatherhood requires presence, not presents."

Vanessa's words echoed in my mind as we stood in the sterile hallway of the Moonstone Pack's medical wing. Each syllable felt like a knife to my gut - not because they were meant to hurt, but because they were true.

I glanced back at Fabian's door, shame washing over me. Six years. I'd missed six years of my son's life. And my brilliant solution? Show up with a dirt bike he couldn't ride and gadgets he was too weak to play with.

"I screwed up," I admitted, my voice rougher than I intended.

Vanessa's eyes softened slightly. "You're trying, Roman. That counts for something."

"Does it?" I ran a hand through my hair, feeling completely out of my depth. "I don't know the first thing about being a father. My own father was..." I trailed off, the memories of my cold, demanding Alpha father still raw after all these years.

"Different times," she said quietly. "But you're not him."