The lost mate

Chapter 116: Back home

It was an unusual and almost surreal sight. The formidable Alpha Falcon, known for his ruthlessness and strategic mind, was crouched down on the floor, arranging tiny toy cars on a racing track with laser-sharp focus. His massive frame looked comically out of place among the colourful toys scattered around him, yet his expression was one of complete concentration.

Around the room, several of Alpha Falcon’s betas and warriors stood frozen in place, their expressions ranging from confusion to outright disbelief.

Ryan, with all the seriousness of a four-year-old, was standing in front of Alpha Falcon, hands on his hips, directing him with the kind of authority only a child could muster.

"No, no, Grandpa Falcon," Ryan said, his little brow furrowed in frustration as he watched the Alpha position a blue car. "That one goes on the outside lane! The red one’s the fastest, so it has to go here." He pointed decisively to the track in front of him, and Alpha Falcon dutifully moved the car without a second thought.

"Yes, of course," Alpha Falcon murmured, as if Ryan’s instructions were as important as military orders. He shifted the blue car to the outer lane and glanced up at Ryan for approval. "Like this?"

Ryan inspected the new arrangement carefully; his eyes narrowed in deep thought. "Hmm... okay, that’s better," he said, nodding solemnly.

He glanced sideways at his warriors and betas, who were still watching him with wide eyes, unsure of how to process what they were seeing.

One of Falcon’s betas, Mason, cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the situation but unsure how to address it. "Alpha," he said hesitantly, "Is everything... alright?"

Alpha Falcon straightened slightly but didn’t rise from his crouched position. He fixed Mason with a stern, commanding gaze that immediately made the beta regret speaking up. "Everything is fine, Mason," he said in his deep, authoritative voice. "We’re building the track. Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something important?"

Mason swallowed, his face flushing slightly, and gave a quick nod. "Yes, Alpha. Of course."

Ryan, oblivious to the tension, continued to rearrange the cars with serious focus. "We’re going to have a big race now," he declared, holding up the red car in his tiny hands. He turned to Falcon with wide, excited eyes. "You ready, Grandpa?"

Alpha Falcon’s expression softened again, and he nodded gravely. "I’m ready, Ryan. Let’s see if the red car can win."

As the two began their "race," the warriors and betas exchanged bewildered glances. None of them could quite believe what they were witnessing.

Ryan giggled as the red car zoomed across the track, narrowly avoiding a pileup with the blue and yellow ones. Falcon feigned shock at the near miss.

"There! I told you the red car was the fastest!" Ryan cheered, bouncing on his toes in excitement. Falcon chuckled, giving the boy an indulgent nod.

"You were right, Ryan," Falcon said, his voice warm and full of affection. "The red car wins again."

The warriors watched as Ryan clambered into Alpha Falcon’s lap, chattering excitedly about the next race. The Alpha’s large hand rested gently on Ryan’s shoulder.

Liana had never expected her father, the indomitable Alpha Falcon, to be so patient and gentle with Ryan. In fact, she had expected him to be distant, focused solely on matters of power and influence, as he always had been.

"Damien’s mate," he said, his voice carrying a note of admiration, "has a very smart boy."

Liana blinked, surprised by his words. "You think so?" she asked, her tone cautious.

Falcon chuckled, still holding Ryan in his lap. "Yes. And she’s strong too, Liana. Stronger than you think. Damien chose well."

Her father was not a man who gave compliments lightly, and his judgement carried great weight.

"I suppose... we’ll see," Liana replied, her voice softening.

Alpha Falcon’s gaze held hers for a long moment before he turned his attention back to Ryan, who was already setting up the cars for another race.

******************************

Damien sighed in relief the moment he turned onto the long, winding driveway leading to his pack house. The familiar sight of home should have been comforting, but as he approached, his eyes narrowed at the line of SUVs and sleek cars parked outside. His heart sank when he recognised the vehicles.

Damien’s hand tightened around the steering wheel as he pulled up, his mind racing. He was already on edge, the events in Chicago with Jessica still fresh in his mind. It made his blood boil. He knew she wouldn’t let things go so easily, especially now that she had tasted a small victory in setting him up. There was a storm brewing, and he was certain Jessica would do whatever it took to escalate the situation. But for now, she was the least of his worries.

Damien stepped through the front doors of the packhouse, his mind still reeling from the chaos swirling around him. But as soon as he crossed the threshold, he was greeted by a sight so bizarre, so unexpected, that for a moment, all his worries and fears were pushed aside.

His grandfather, Alpha Falcon—the formidable, battle-hardened leader of the Red Moon Pack—was sitting on the floor, carefully arranging toy cars on a plastic racetrack.

Ryan, his son, stood next to him, hands on his hips, directing the entire operation with the seriousness only a four-year-old could muster.

Damien blinked, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Is this really happening?

He felt a chuckle bubbling up but swallowed it back. The situation was absurd, yet somehow... heartwarming.

Before Damien could process any more of the absurdity, Ryan spotted him from across the room. His little face lit up with joy, and he immediately abandoned the toy car he had been holding, racing towards his father at full speed. "Daddy!"

Damien’s heart swelled as his son threw himself into his arms, hugging him tightly around the neck. Damien knelt, scooping Ryan up into his arms, and for the first time in what felt like forever,

"I missed you, Daddy," Ryan said, his small voice muffled as he buried his face against Damien’s shoulder.

"I missed you too, buddy," Damien murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He held Ryan close, breathing in his familiar scent, letting it wash over him like a balm for his frayed nerves. "Were you having fun with Grandpa?"

Ryan pulled back, his eyes shining with excitement as he nodded vigorously. "Yeah! We were racing cars, and I’m winning! Grandpa’s really good at it, though." His voice was full of admiration, and Damien couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Alpha Falcon—his terrifying, unyielding grandfather—being described as "good" at racing toy cars.

Damien stood up, holding Ryan against his side as he glanced over at Falcon, who was still sitting on the floor, surrounded by brightly coloured cars. The older man was watching them now, his face unreadable, but there was a faint twinkle in his eyes that Damien hadn’t seen in years.

"Grandpa," Ryan called out to him, "Daddy’s home now! Are you going to race him too?"

Falcon gave a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly as he rose to his feet with the grace and strength that belied his age. "I think your dad has bigger things to take care of right now."

Damien’s smile faded as reality came rushing back. He gently set Ryan down, ruffling his hair before turning his full attention to Alpha Falcon. The playful moment had passed, and the tension in the room returned with it.

"It’s good you are back, Damien !" Liana said aloud.

Anne rushed down the stairs the moment she heard about Damien’s arrival.

Relief flooded her as she reached the bottom of the staircase and saw him standing there, looking tired but happy, holding Ryan close. She smiled, the sight of him giving her a sense of peace she had been desperately missing. Her feet barely touched the floor as she rushed forward, ready to throw her arms around him and find solace in his embrace.

But the moment she reached him, something stopped her cold.

A faint trace of a scent—a scent she recognised immediately, one that twisted her stomach into knots. It was a sweet, cloying fragrance she despised. The scent of Jessica.