Stealing the Alpha’s Heritage

Chapter 14

POV Aria

My phone buzzes against the nightstand, Rowena's name lighting up the screen.

I'm still wrapped in sheets that smell like pine and regret, the mark on my neck throbbing with each heartbeat. Elena sits beside me, having come to check the bite wound, her healer's hands gentle against my skin.

"It's from Rowena." My fingers shake as I open the message. "She sent a video."

"At this hour?" Elena leans closer, her medical supplies forgotten.

I tap play. The screen fills with my boys in matching pajamas, sitting on Thorne's lap in what looks like a bedtime scene ripped from someone else's perfect life.

"Tell Papa goodnight, princes," Thorne's voice rumbles through the speaker.

"Goodnight, Papa!" Kael chirps, throwing his small arms around Thorne's neck.

Finn's softer voice follows, barely audible but clear enough to shatter what's left of my sanity. "Night, Papa."

The phone slips from my numb fingers, clattering against the hardwood floor.

"They're calling him Papa." The words come out strangled.

"Aria, it's only been days—"

"Days are years when you're three!" I surge to my feet, the sheet falling away as I grab yesterday's clothes from the floor. "They've already forgotten I exist. I'm just some phantom mother who abandoned them for a better offer."

"That's not true—"

"Isn't it?" I yank my dress over my head. "Look at this room. Look at this mark burning on my neck. I let another Alpha claim me while my sons learn to love their kidnapper."

Elena reaches for me but I dodge her touch. "Where are you going?"

"To get them back."

"How? You can't just walk into Silverfang territory—"

"Watch me." I storm toward the door, but it slams shut before I reach it. Evander stands there, his brown eyes dark with particular authority.

"You're not leaving." His voice carries a command that makes my knees buckle against my will.

"You can't stop me—"

"Actually, I can." He steps closer, and the mark flares to life, sending waves of submission through my nervous system. "That's what you agreed to last night, remember? My mark, my rules."

"I agreed to get my boys back, not to become your prisoner!"

"Same difference when you're planning something suicidal." He grabs my shoulders. "You think you can just waltz into Thorne's territory? Alone? You'd be dead before you reached the gates."

"At least I'd be trying!"

"And then who saves them?" His grip tightens. "Who fights for them?"

The fight drains from my body, replaced by something worse than rage—desperation cut with truth.

"Then what do you suggest?" My voice cracks.

"We write a letter." Elena speaks from behind us, her voice carefully neutral. "We propose a formal meeting."

"A letter?" I laugh, the sound sharp enough to cut glass. "You want me to write a letter?"

"A letter with terms," Evander releases my shoulders, his strategic mind already working. "You're my mate now. That changes the game. Thorne can't just dismiss you anymore."

"He'll laugh at any terms we propose—"

"Not if we frame it right." Evander moves to his desk, pulling out expensive stationery. "Elena, you help her compose it. I'll add my own addendum."

Elena guides me to the desk. My hand shakes as I pick up the pen.

"Dear Thorne," Elena dictates gently. "I write to you as a mother whose children were stolen in the night."

"That's too soft—"

"Keep writing." Elena's hand covers mine, steadying it. "I propose a meeting to discuss the custody of Kael and Finn. Neutral territory. No weapons, no armies, just parents discussing their children's future."

The words flow onto paper like blood from a wound. When I finish, Evander takes the pen, his addition swift and brutal.

"As Aria is now under my protection and bears my mark, any harm to her constitutes an act of war against the Moonveil Pack. Choose your response carefully. —Alpha Evander Caldris"

"You're using me as bait." I stare at his signature.

"I'm using every advantage we have." He seals the letter with his official stamp. "Including the fact that Thorne's possessive enough to meet just to see another Alpha's mark on your neck."

Elena takes the letter, her fingers closing around it with purpose. "I'll send it through official channels immediately."

Two days pass in agonizing silence. I pace Evander's office like a caged animal, checking my phone every five minutes for word from Silverfang. The mark on my neck burns constantly, a reminder of the price I've paid for this slim chance.

When the response finally arrives, it comes through a terrified young wolf who practically throws the envelope at Evander before fleeing.

"It reeks of Thorne's scent," Evander says, holding it at arm's length. "He wants us to know it's from him personally."

I tear it from his hands, ripping it open with trembling fingers. Thorne's handwriting slashes across the page like claw marks.

"Neutral territory. Thirteen days hence. The old courthouse at Riverside. Come alone, or don't come at all. —T"

"Absolutely not." Evander snatches the letter back, scanning it again. "You're not meeting him alone."

"He won't negotiate otherwise—"

"Then he won't negotiate." Evander crumples the letter in his fist. "I'm not sending you into a trap."

"It's not your choice!" I lunge for the crumpled paper but he holds it above my head. "Those are my sons!"

"And you're my mate." The mark flares again, forcing submission into my bones. "That means your safety is my responsibility."

"I hate you." The words taste true even as my body betrays me, leaning into his proximity.

"Hate me all you want." He cups my face, thumb tracing the mark he left. "But you're not going alone. We'll send a counter-proposal. Same place, same time, but I accompany you."

"He'll refuse—"

"Then we'll keep negotiating until he agrees to terms that don't involve serving you up like a lamb to slaughter." He turns to Elena, who's been watching from the doorway. "Draft our response. Make it clear that Aria doesn't travel without protection."

"Evander, please." I grab his arm with desperate strength. "Every second we waste negotiating is another second my boys forget who I am."

"Racing into Thorne's hands won't bring them back." His voice gentles slightly, though his grip remains firm. "We do this smart, or we don't do it at all."

I watch Elena draft our counter-proposal, each word feeling like another nail in the coffin of my children's memories. The mark burns on my neck, a constant reminder that I'm no longer free to make my own choices.

My boys called him Papa. The word echoes in my mind like a death knell.

"Three days," I whisper to the empty space where my children should be. "Hold on for three more days."