<h4>Chapter 28: Chapter 28: COOKIE POINTS</h4>


    <strong>MAEVE’S POV</strong>


    Ivan blinked, his gaze dragging up to mine.


    "Yeah," he said. "Just... didn’t expect to scare him like that."


    "You did show up naked," I muttered.


    That pulled the smallestugh out of him, reluctant, dry, but genuine.


    "I wasn’t exactly nning on an audience," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I usually run further out. I didn’t think anyone would be here."


    "Well," I shrugged, "we were just having a pic. That’s all."


    His eyes shifted to Asha again. "Looked like he was having fun."


    "He was," I said. "Until a naked man showed up out of the trees."


    Ivan gave a low groan. "You’re not gonna let that go, are you?"


    "Not any time soon."


    Another stretch of silence followed.


    Then, softly, hesitantly, he said, "So... are you gonna introduce us?"


    My chest tightened.


    I didn’t know how to answer that.


    Not when Asha had no idea who Ivan really was. Not when I hadn’t even decided if he’d ever need to.


    As far as he was concerned, this was all just some borate make-believe.


    But how long would that hold up before the questions started? Before the pieces didn’t add up anymore?


    I wasn’t sure. And truthfully, I was afraid to find out.


    "I think introductions are a little premature," I said carefully. "He’s still... settling in."


    Ivan nodded once, jaw tightening.


    "Right. Of course. I didn’t mean anything formal. Just... I don’t know. Maybe a name. Something."


    He looked at Asha like the boy was made of ss. Like he didn’t know how to hold him, or if he ever would.


    "Asha," I said eventually, bouncing him gently. "This is... Ivan. He’s from the pack. And he’s... someone I used to know."


    Asha didn’t respond. His face was half-buried in my neck, and he clung to me like he was afraid I’d disappear if he lost his grip.


    Ivan’s throat bobbed.


    "Hi, Asha," he said quietly. "It’s nice to meet you."


    Asha said nothing. Just held tighter.


    "I think that’s enough for now," I murmured. "He needs time."


    "Yeah," Ivan said. "Of course."


    But I could see it, the flicker of something broken in his eyes.


    "I just..." he started, then stopped. Scrubbed a hand over his face. "I don’t know. I want to make it less scary for him. I don’t want to be this... thing he runs from."


    "He’s shy with new people," I said. "You don’t need to read into it."


    "I do." His voice was softer now, but it held ice nheless. "Because I want to do something. Anything. I want to help, Maeve. Even if it’s just, I don’t know... winning cookie points."


    That dragged a smile out of me, despite everything.


    "Cookie points? Really?"


    He gave me a side-nce. "What? Isn’t that what kids like?"


    In another scene, another life maybe, I might haveughed. But in that moment, I didn’t answer. Things were too different between us now.


    I was too busy trying to push down the emotion threatening to well in my chest. Because this wasn’t the Ivan I’d prepared to face if he ever met Asha again.


    I’d expected an explosion of demands. I’d expected him to try and im Asha by the sheer virtue of being Alpha.


    But this wasn’t the selfish asshole. Or the terrifying Alpha.


    This was just a man—trying. Awkwardly. Clumsily. Reaching for something he didn’t think he deserved.


    And maybe that was my fault. For running all those years.


    Maybe, even now, I’d be med for taking a child away from their father. But what else could I have done? What other choice had there been?


    For a second—just a second—I almost felt bad for him.


    But then I remembered.


    He’d caused all of this. He’d brought a breeder between us. My best friend, no less.


    And fuck, it had hurt.


    It still did.


    And maybe Ivan only cared now because Asha was his path to the throne. I wouldn’t put it past him to be that selfish.


    After all, his duty to the pack—his birthright to be Alpha—had alwayse first. Before anything. Before me. Maybe even before the idea of being a father.


    If Devon’s n went ordingly, Ivan Cross would never have the luxury of sitting on that throne. I’d make sure of it.


    But before I could shut down these fragile, dangerous emotions—before I could retreat behind the wall I knew so well—a scream tore through the air.


    Bloodcurdling.


    And it came straight from the pack house.