---- Chapter 38 Damien POV: The terror from Lyra's threat was a cold serpent coiling in my gut. | had to warn them. | had to protect them. But | was a ghost, a phantom in the kitchen. How could | approach Alpha Alaric without revealing everything? My frantic thoughts were cut short by a change in the air. The sounds from upstairs softened. The sharp edges of pain I'd felt from Elara through our broken bond were replaced by a profound, exhausted peace. | crept up the servants' stairs, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs. | had to see. Just a glimpse. The door to her room was slightly ajar. | peered through the crack, my breath catching in my throat. Elara was propped up in bed, her silver-blonde hair damp and clinging to her temples. She looked tired, but a soft light shone from her. In her arms was the source of that light. Our son. "You look like a little old man," | heard her whisper, her voice thick with a love that made my knees weak. She traced a finger over his wrinkled brow. "All wrinkly and grumpy." Luna Seraphina, sitting by the bed, let out a soft laugh. "All ---- newborns look like that, my love. You should have seen yourself. You were even uglier." Elara smiled, a real, genuine smile that | hadn't seen in over a year. She nuzzled the baby's head, inhaling his scent. "Mama," she cooed softly. "Can you say Mama?" | saw a shadow pass over her face then, a flicker of pain so intense | felt a sympathetic pang in my own chest. | knew that look. | knew that memory. It was me, in our old packhouse, teaching Lyra's pup to howl, ignoring my true mate standing in the doorway. Guilt washed over her, a bitter wave | could almost taste. She was thinking about how our son was born into a broken home because of me. Alpha Alaric, ever the stoic protector, stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. "He has his mother," he said, his deep voice a comforting rumble. "He has his grandparents. And he has the entire Silver Moon Pack. He is the future. He is an heir." Elara's expression hardened with a new resolve. "He will take my name," she said, her voice clear and strong. "He will be a Silvermoon." The words were a physical blow. An Alpha's firstborn, his heir, not carrying his name. It was the ultimate rejection, a public declaration that | did not exist. "A fine name," Alaric beamed with pride. He looked down at the child. "We will call him Kael. In the old tongue, it means 'strong protector'." ---- | watched as Elara held our son close, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Kael," she whispered, testing the name on her tongue. "Kael Silvermoon." My son. My Kael. With another wolf's name. | stumbled back from the door, my hand clamped over my mouth to stifle a sob. | had lost her. | had lost my pack. And now, standing as a ghost in the hallway, | realized | had even lost my son. | had forfeited the right to give him my name.