Chapter 2 - The Son He Never Knew He Had
They spent the night in an abandoned watchtower overlooking Silverpine.
Rosalind cleaned Declan's wounds while Finn slept beneath three blankets near the fire.
Declan watched the boy for hours.
He couldn't stop.
Every tiny movement fascinated him.
The way Finn curled his fingers while sleeping.
The slight crease between his eyebrows.
The tiny scar near his chin.
Even the way he frowned when the fire crackled too loudly.
Declan had missed five years.
Five birthdays.
Five winters.
Five first words.
Five years of laughter.
Five years of scraped knees and nightmares.
Five years where someone else should have been holding him.
The knowledge hurt more than the arrow.
Rosalind tightened the bandage.
“Stop staring.”
“I can't.”
“He'll wake up.”
“I want him to.”
Rosalind looked at him.
Declan lowered his voice.
“He's really mine.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Her eyes hardened.
“Because you were surrounded by people trying to kill you.”
“You could have sent word.”
“I did.”
Declan stared.
“When?”
“Twice.”
“When?”
“Three months after Winterborn.”
He shook his head.
“I never received anything.”
“I suspected that.”
“What happened?”
“They came for Finn.”
Rosalind explained.
The first messenger disappeared.
The second was found dead near the palace border.
After that, she stopped trying.
“I realized someone inside your court was intercepting everything.”
Declan closed his eyes.
Bram.
Of course.
He had trusted Bram.
When Declan mourned, Bram was there.
When Declan became angry, Bram encouraged him.
When Declan spoke of Rosalind, Bram told him humans were not worth grieving.
When Declan ordered investigations, Bram somehow ensured they went nowhere.
He had been manipulating him for five years.
“What happened the night of Winterborn?” Declan asked.
Rosalind stared into the fire.
“We were preparing to evacuate.”
“I was away.”
“Yes.”
“Who gave the order to lock the doors?”
“I heard the guards say it came from the king.”
Declan's jaw tightened.
“It did not.”
“I know.”
“Then what happened?”
“They separated me from everyone else.”
She touched her stomach.
“I was already in labor.”
Declan went still.
“You gave birth that night?”
She nodded.
“Finn was born while Winterborn burned.”
He looked at the sleeping boy.
“How did you escape?”
“A servant helped me.”
“Who?”
“She died getting us through the lower tunnel.”
Declan swallowed.
“What was her name?”
“Maribel.”
He remembered.
A kitchen maid.
Barely eighteen.
Reported missing after Winterborn.
Declan had never questioned it.
Another piece of the lie.
Rosalind continued.
“I carried Finn through the tunnel.”
“You were injured.”
“I wasn't thinking about myself.”
She looked at him.
“I was thinking about him.”
Declan's eyes softened.
“You always did that.”
“What?”
“Put everyone else first.”
She looked away.
“You don't know me anymore.”
“I know you.”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“You know who I was.”
Silence.
Declan shifted closer.
“You think five years changed everything.”
“It did.”
“For you.”
“For both of us.”
He looked at her.
“I mourned you.”
“I mourned you too.”
“Then why are you angry?”
“Because mourning you was easier than hoping for you.”
He had no answer.
She continued:
“Every night, Finn asked where his father was.”
Declan stared.
“What did you tell him?”
“That you were a wolf who lived in the mountains.”
Finn stirred.
“Mom?”
Rosalind turned immediately.
“I'm here.”
Finn sat up.
His sleepy eyes landed on Declan.
“Are you still here?”
Declan smiled.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
The boy crawled closer.
“Can I sleep next to you?”
Declan looked at Rosalind.
She nodded.
Finn climbed beside him.
He curled against Declan's chest.
The Alpha King froze.
His son was warm.
Small.
Real.
Declan had fought armies.
He had conquered territories.
He had killed men without hesitation.
But nothing had terrified him like holding his own child.
Finn whispered:
“You're big.”
Declan smiled.
“So I've been told.”
“Do you turn into a wolf?”
“Yes.”
“What color?”
“Black.”
Finn thought.
“My wolf would be black too.”
Declan closed his eyes.
“I'm sure it would.”
Finn smiled.
Then he fell asleep.
Rosalind watched from across the fire.
There was pain in her expression.
And something else.
Something that looked dangerously close to hope.
The next morning, Declan took Finn outside.
He taught him how to recognize tracks.
Finn listened seriously.
“Wolf.”
“Yes.”
“Deer.”
“Yes.”
“Bram.”
Declan stopped.
Finn pointed at footprints.
“His boots.”
Declan crouched.
The boy was right.
Bram's men had found them.
“Back inside.”
They moved quickly.
But the tower was already surrounded.
A voice called from outside.
“Your Majesty.”
Declan knew it.
The Royal Chancellor.
Lord Cassian.
One of the few men he trusted.
“Come out peacefully.”
Rosalind looked at him.
“Do you trust him?”
Declan hesitated.
“No.”
That was answer enough.
They escaped through the tower's rear window.
Finn stayed in Declan's arms.
They ran into the forest.
Behind them came shouts.
“Don't let the boy escape!”
Declan heard it.
The phrase froze his blood.
Not "the queen."
Not "the king."
The boy.
The target was Finn.
And suddenly everything made sense.
The attack in Greybridge.
The mercenaries.
The missing ledger.
The silver arrows.
The surveillance.
The Moon Council wasn't trying to kill Declan.
They were trying to control his heir.
At the edge of the forest, they found three horses.
Declan lifted Finn onto one.
Rosalind mounted another.
“Where are we going?”
“North.”
“That's your territory.”
“Exactly.”
“You think the fortress is safe?”
“No.”
Rosalind frowned.
“Then why go there?”
Declan looked at her.
“Because my enemies expect me to run.”
He pulled his cloak around Finn.
“I am done running.”
By sunset, the Northern Fortress appeared on the horizon.
Thousands of guards lined its walls.
But when the gates opened, the soldiers did not cheer.
They stared.
Because the Alpha King had returned.
And beside him stood a woman who had supposedly died five years earlier.
And in his arms was a little boy with royal eyes.
Whispers spread through the ranks.
“Winterborn queen.”
“Impossible.”
“His son.”
“My king has an heir.”
Declan dismounted.
Finn clung to his hand.
Declan turned toward the assembled soldiers.
“This is Finn.”
The courtyard fell silent.
“He is my son.”
Then Declan looked toward the fortress.
“From this day forward, anyone who threatens him threatens the crown.”
A roar erupted.
But high above the fortress, hidden behind a stone window, a man watched.
Bram.
He smiled.
May you like
Because he had expected Declan to return.
And he had already poisoned the royal council against him.
Related Stories
