Chapter 3

After they left, I called my mother.

Eileen’s voice was warm, and behind it, I could hear the familiar cry of gulls on the Maine coast.

“Nora? Honey, is everything okay?”

I steadied my breathing and told her I was coming home for the holiday.

There was a brief silence. Then, she asked carefully, “Did they rule on Mia’s custody?”

I closed my eyes, the cold scene from the arbitration hall replaying in my mind.

“I withdrew my request, Mom. Sole custody went to Grant. Mia officially chose Sloane as her maternal guardian.”

My mother didn’t ask why.

She only said, “Then come home. Your name has always been in the Tidewatch birth records. I’ll file for your reentry protection. And this year, the biggest slice of blueberry pie is still yours.”

The tears finally fell.

How many Thanksgivings had I missed over the years because of this endless custody battle? Every time my mother asked, I hid behind hearings, evaluations, and paperwork. The old acquaintances in Tidewatch were probably talking, wondering why I’d spent six years away from my own pack for a child who never once looked back.

This time, I wasn’t choosing my daughter.

I was going home.

The next day, I packed up the small apartment I’d been renting. For six years, I had poured my life into Mia and the Caldwells. There was so little left that belonged only to me that one suitcase was enough.

Three minutes before my ride to the airport was due to arrive, an unfamiliar number flashed on my screen. The caller ID was registered to Mia.

I answered, but it was Sloane’s voice, laced with that perpetual, practiced concern.

“Nora, it’s me. You need to get to the Grayhaven Healing Center right now. Mia fell during hockey practice and hit her head. The healer says it could be a concussion. Her wolf just awakened—this could get serious very quickly.”

My heart stopped.

I immediately called Grant.

No answer.

The driver’s icon on my phone app was drawing closer. My flight left in two hours.

The airport or the healing center?

Every rational part of me knew this was probably a trap. But the word *concussion* sliced through every defense I had. The part of me that had once protected Mia without question surged awake.

“Change of destination,” I told the driver as he pulled up. “Grayhaven Healing Center, emergency entrance.”

When I got to the room, my hand had just touched the doorknob when I heard Sloane’s voice inside, light with laughter.

“See? I told you she still cares about you. You did very well, Mia.”

Mia’s voice came through, not weak in the slightest.

“This is so stupid. She already said she doesn’t care about me anymore.”

“That’s different,” Sloane said patiently. “This proves that even if she’s angry, she can’t just turn off a mother’s protective instinct. This is the first step in healing your family’s trauma. She needs to accept that the three of us are the stable unit now.”

My fingers went numb.

They had used the cruelest possible method to test me, then wrapped it in the language of healing.

I pushed the door open.

Mia was half-reclined on the bed, and when she saw me, embarrassment flashed across her face. Sloane sat at the bedside, a magazine still in her hand.

“Where’s the concussion?” I asked. “Why did you lie to me?”

Mia’s face went scarlet. She shifted her leg, revealing an ankle wrapped in a simple elastic bandage, with no swelling at all.

“Sloane said it was for our own good.”

“For your own good?”

Six years of betrayal, miscarriage, and humiliation in arbitration court came crashing back. I couldn’t believe that the woman who had once been my best friend, who had taken my partner, was now using my own maternal instinct to manipulate me.

“Nora, don’t raise your voice in the healing center.” Sloane was on her feet at once, stepping between me and Mia. “You’re scaring her. Her wolf just awakened. She can’t handle this kind of stress.”

“Stop using pop psychology and her awakening as an excuse,” I snapped, fixing my eyes on her. “You’re not a healer. You’re just a liar dressing up your manipulations in clinical terms.”

Mia suddenly jumped off the bed and planted herself in front of Sloane.

“Don’t you hurt her! She’s the one who really cares about me. You just make everything worse!”

“Hurt her?”

A short, harsh laugh escaped me, and tears rushed to my eyes.

Sloane seized the moment, pressing a hand to her chest as her own eyes welled up.

“I’m sorry, Nora. This is all my fault. I only wanted to help you and Mia repair your relationship. I never thought it would turn out like this. If you need to vent, take it out on me.”

The hospital room door opened again.

Grant walked in.

He took in the final tableau: me, furious in the doorway; Mia, protectively shielding Sloane; and Sloane, looking like a victim on the verge of tears.

He checked that Sloane was all right before his gaze fell on me. The Alpha’s stare was cold, the same look he used in arbitration when judging a dangerous pack member.

“Nora,” he asked, his voice low and threatening, “have you lost control again?”