Page 113 of Fool Moon First Aid

“Clan meeting?” Tyler’s grumble disrupts the silence as the front door closes behind him. “Like now? But you’re here, can’t we just?—”

“Go get Alpha Hughes and Beta Zane,” Brody cuts in, his voice firm and authoritative.

The air tingles with tension and anticipation. As they enter the kitchen, my focus immediately shifts to Ava. Despite the disarray of her hair and Brody’s scent enveloping her, the mark on her neck—a clear sign of his claim—ignites a fierce hope within me.

She chose us? I silently question through our bond, feeling my heart rate surge with anticipation.

Brody gives me a barely perceptible nod, confirming my hopes.

“Tempest,” I whisper, my voice soft, reveling in the blush that spreads across Ava’s cheeks.

“Hey,” she responds, her gaze briefly meeting my mother’s before she offers a shy smile.

“Mama Hughes,” my mother says, rising to her feet, her eyes still red from tears but gleaming with warmth as she embraces Ava, welcoming her into our family.

For a moment, Ava seems caught off guard by my mother’s warm embrace, but she soon melts into it, visibly relaxing. The hope within me swells, yet I force myself to remain cautious, not wanting to get ahead of myself.

Zane’s booming voice fills the house. “Clan meeting? Boy, who gave you the—Oh.”

“Zane, this is Ava,” my mother introduces, her voice laden with love and pride. “Our daughter.”

“It’s about damn time we got one of those,” Zane remarks, acknowledging Ava with a nod. “Though you do smell a lot like Brody.”

Ava’s reaction—her eyes widening and cheeks flushing with embarrassment—is priceless.

“Zane,” Brody whines, clearly exasperated by the beta’s blunt observation.

When my father enters, looking as disheveled as my mother did earlier, his casual attire starkly contrasting with the alpha persona he usually projects, the dynamic in the room shifts.

“Come meet Ava,” my mother says, drawing him closer to formally welcome Ava.

The sight of my parents and Zane surrounding Ava, offering their acceptance and support, stirs a deep emotion within me. The thought of what could have been—a third man standing beside them—tugs at my heart, but witnessing their resilience and the strength they draw from each other is both awe-inspiring and deeply moving.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Alpha Hughes,” Ava says, her voice formal yet genuine.

“And you, Ava,” he says, his voice tinged with a warmth usually reserved for Mom.

Ava licks her lips nervously and glances over her shoulder at Brody, who gives her an encouraging nod. “Is there somewhere we can talk?” she asks.

“Of course,” Father replies. “Let’s go into the study.” He leads the way, with Zane, Mom, and the rest of us trailing behind.

Ava’s nerves are palpable as we enter the study, her fingers trembling and her lip quivering. Brody gently guides her, with Tyler and me following her into the room.

As everyone finds a seat, I lean against the door, feeling somewhat out of place yet compelled to stay. Father reassures Ava. “This room is soundproof. Whatever is said here stays among us.”

“Thank you.” Ava’s voice shakes. She takes a deep breath, takes a stack of papers from Brody, and places them on her lap, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t know how to begin,” she says, her voice faltering. “Tyler and I visited one of my father’s properties last week.”

It dawns on me then—she’s sifted through the documents we recovered from her home, confronting her family’s secrets on her own terms.

Father and I exchange a glance before his attention returns to Ava, who’s struggling to continue. “This is hard for me,” she admits, tears welling in her eyes. My instinct is to comfort her, but I hesitate, unsure if she’d welcome my touch.

Father’s gaze flits to mine before going back to Ava, who has paused to chew on her bottom lip. “Ava?”

“My dad. I thought he was a good man,” she says. “I thought so many things that little girls think. That he hung the moon and the stars, and that he’d always have my back. That he’d always do what was best for me.”

“Ava.” My father, who sits across from her on a chair, reaches out to rest a hand on her trembling one. “That is the least a father should do.” She swipes at the tears dripping down her cheeks.

“Yeah, I know that now, but for him? It wasn’t real.” She steadies her breath. “My dad is the head of the Puritas Umbra.”

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