Marissa opens the door before I even knock.

"You look like hell."

"Thanks." I step inside, scanning for Lily on autopilot. She's on the living room floor, building something elaborate with blocks, Mr. Snuffles supervising from a nearby cushion. Safe. Whole. Oblivious.

"How bad was it?" Marissa asks, keeping her voice low.

"He recognized me."

"Shit."

"Yeah." I lean against the doorframe, watching Lily carefully stack another block. "But he doesn't know about her. I kept that part locked down."

"So what now?"

"Now I take my daughter home, and I never go near Silverpine again."

"Mama!" Lily spots me and abandons her architecture, launching herself at my legs. I scoop her up, breathing in her scent—vanilla and something wild, like pine forests and moonlight.

"Hey, baby. Did you have fun?"

"Marissa let me have ice cream for dinner."

"Did she now."

Marissa shrugs unapologetically.

I manage a real smile for the first time in hours. "Get your things, Lil. Time to go home."

She wriggles down and runs to collect Mr. Snuffles and her backpack. I turn to Marissa.

"Thank you. For everything."

"You sure you're okay?"

"I will be."

Lily takes my hand as we walk to the car. The evening air is cool, the street quiet. Ashwood in autumn—amber streetlights, fallen leaves, the kind of small-town peace I chose specifically because it's everything Silverpine isn't.

I'm buckling Lily into her car seat when I smell it.

Cedar and winter rain.

My hands freeze on the buckle.

No. Not here. Not possible.

"Maya."

His voice comes from behind me. Low. Controlled. Dangerous.

I straighten slowly, positioning myself between the open car door and the sidewalk. Between him and Lily.

Declan steps out from behind a dark SUV parked across the street. Still wearing the suit from the meeting, rumpled now, tie loosened. Like he drove straight here. Like he's been waiting.

"How did you find me?"

"Your license plate. Company security ran it." He's moving closer, each step deliberate. "Took two hours to drive here. Gave me time to think about everything you're not telling me."

"I'm not hiding anything. Go home, Declan."

"You've been hiding for five years. You're a professional at it by now."

He's twenty feet away. Fifteen.

"Mommy?" Lily's voice from inside the car, small and curious. "Who are you talking to?"

Declan stops dead.

His eyes shift from me to the open car door. To the small face peering out from the car seat, dark auburn hair falling across her forehead.

Storm-gray eyes meet identical storm-gray eyes.

The color drains from his face.

Lily tilts her head, studying him with the fearless curiosity of a four-year-old. And the Alpha presence that radiates from her tiny frame—instinctive, powerful, impossible to miss—crashes into him like a wave.

"Mommy, that man smells like the forest."

Because she can scent him. Because she's wolf. Because she's his.

Declan makes a sound I've never heard from him—something between a growl and a sob, raw and broken and full of a recognition that goes deeper than sight.

"Maya." My name sounds like gravel and shattered glass. "How old is she?"

I don't answer. Can't answer.

He does the math anyway. Five years since I left. The Blood Moon night he doesn't remember.

"She's mine." Not a question.

Lily looks between us, small fingers clutching Mr. Snuffles. "Mommy? Why is the forest man crying?"

Declan takes a step forward.

I take a step back, blocking the car door with my body.

"Tell me everything." His voice drops to something barely controlled, Alpha command and devastation warring in every syllable. "Now."