Page 19 of Lunar's Ruined Alpha

“You’re not one of them,” he blurts suddenly.

“What?”

“You didn’t join the Whiterose pack.”

I straighten my spine. “No. I’m a lone wolf.”

Is that hurt I see in his expression?

“And is that how you would have raised our son? As a lone wolf?”

“I didn’t—”

“He’s an Alpha’s son, Alina,” Rowan grunts, taking a step toward me. It’s a non-threatening maneuver, but I still find myself moving a step back to keep the distance between us. “When he starts shifting, it’s not going to be like it is with other shifters his age. He’ll be different right from the very start, and he’ll need mentors to help him through that. He’ll need his father and his grandfather.”

From what I remember, Rowan’s father is a good man. My parentsconsidered him a strong Alpha whom they were honored to serve and honored to give their lives for.

I swallow hard. “He’ll be fine.”

Rowan frowns, as if he can see right through my conviction.

“Furthermore,” he continues. “Despite our…separation…my son has the right to learn the ancient Greenbriar traditions. He is the heir, Alina. We aren’t just any pack. You know that. Our bloodlines are ancient.”

I can’t help rolling my eyes at that. I don’t need any reminders about how primitive and mystical the Greenbriar origins are. After all, the pack’s wise woman delivered a prophecy that has hung over my head for the past ten years. I can never forget the power that Kseniya and her predecessors have, nor can I forget how that power lives in the veins of all members of the pack.

Lifting my chin and crossing my arms against my chest, I stand my ground.

“Noah has a right to make that decision for himself. He can choose whether or not he wants to be the heir, someday when he’s older and capable of actually deciding something like that.”

Rowan’s eyes widen. For half a heartbeat, I catch a glimpse of the softer, younger man he was the last time I knew him.

“Noah?” he breathes. “That’s his name?”

I try not to flinch. It hadn’t occurred to me that Rowan didn’t even know his son’s name. Surely, I said it out loud at some point yesterday in his presence?

“Yes. Noah Amos Sinclair.”

If he’s annoyed that I gave our son my surname instead of his, it doesn’t show in his features. Instead, he says, “You gave him your father’s name.”

I glance away. It was the only way I could think of to honor my late father, who died for his loyalty to the Greenbriars. He died trying to protect my mother from the Blackburns’ ambush, and it was a futile sacrifice in the end. Because she died that night, too. Another elder was badly injured, and a couple more pack members suffered greatly as well.

I don’t like to think about the past too much, though.

I shake off Rowan’s remark and glance down at my watch.

“I have to go,” I insist. “Noah needs to get to school.”

Rowan steps in front of me, blocking my path back to the Jeep. “I’m not letting you leave until we can agree on a time for me to meet my son.”

“This is my property and you don’t let me do anything.”

He scoffs. “Fine, then. I’ll do this the old-fashioned way. Is that what you want?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll take you to court if I have to. I’m not eager to get into a custody battle, but you cannot legally keep my son from me without probable cause.”

Anger licks down my spine. My hands clench into fists of their own accord.

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