I tensed up and looked up with wide eyes to see Malcolm was walking towards us, quickly releasing Priscilla so she could grab her head where I’d been holding her hair and skitter back a few steps, snarling at me. Then she pasted an innocently curious expression onto her face as Malcolm reached us, offering Priscilla no more than a glance before turning to me.

“Listen, I wanted to talk about what happened at dinner.”

“Nothing to talk about,” I shot down, eyes still on Priscilla, who sneered before spinning on her heel, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

“You’d do well to keep what we talked about in mind, alpha,” she said to me, before offering Malcolm a sweet smile and walking off.

“Who was she?” Malcolm asked, watching after her, but I just turned my back to him, not wanting him to see the blood on my face.

“Priscilla Paige.”

“Oh… she…”

“My chosen mate,” I finished for him so he wouldn’t have to say it, “Yea. Can I help you with something?”

He sighed, “I wanted to apologize,” he said, and I turned partway so I was able to look at him from the corner of my eyes, “I had no right to start that, especially considering it was about your son. I wanted to help but I overstepped my boundaries, and I’m sorry for that,” I could see the lopsided grin he gave me due to the light of the half-moon above, “Considering Cecilia raised me, I should’ve known better than to question a momma bear,” I squinted at him, and he rubbed the back of his head, laughing, “Sorry.”

I turned my head away again, staring down at my shoes, “It’s alright. I get overprotective of Rebel because of how the Paige wolves have treated him, but that’s no excuse to get mad at you. You especially, I mean. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, completely understandable,” he paused, and I heard him shifting around before he spoke again, “Scott, I… I need to know who Rebel’s mom is,” I winced, biting my lip, and looking away, “He’s young, I mean, but he’s eight and… the only way he could exist is if you had sex after you left. I mean, right after,” he quickly followed up, “But I know you would never just do that! So, I… need to know what happened.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head, “All you need to know is I love you, Malcolm,” I said softly, “I love you, I always have, and I always will. I would never do anything to hurt you, ever… but I can’t tell you.”

“Why?! Did… Scott did some bitch rape you?!”

“What?” I turned partway to give him a baffled look, “Why even think that? Of course not,” I turned my back again, rubbing my hand across my eyes, “Just try to understand, I’m doing this to protect you.”

“You’re refusing to tell me who your son’s mother is to protect me,” Malcolm repeated in a dull, disbelieving voice, and I lifted my hands to my face again, nodding, “Scott that makes no sense.”

“I’m tired, Malcolm,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around myself and hunching my shoulders, “Can we please not talk about this?”

He sighed in irritation, but I was grateful for his response, “Fine,” I felt his hand on my shoulder but quickly jolted away from him, wincing, “Scott…,” he sounded broken, and I grit my teeth as he sighed again, “Okay. I’m sorry. I won’t push you into telling me,” he paused before adding a weak, “I love you, Scott.”

I heard his shoes scuffing the ground as he walked off, and chanced a look over my shoulder to make sure he was actually going back to the main house before turning and lifting a hand to cover my cheek and walked the rest of the way to my house.

Most of the lights were turned off, but Shaede was on the couch in the living room, legs propped up on the coffee table and a cartoon playing on the television, Rebel lying on the couch next to the lone with his head pillowed in Shaede’s lap, a thick blanket draped over him. He appeared to be fast asleep, but Shaede lifted his head when he heard me, eyes growing wide when he saw me.

“Scott-.”

“I’m okay,” I whispered, dropping my hand from my face, “Priscilla just… got mad at me.”

“What happened to dinner? I figured you would be gone longer.”

“Malcolm and I got in a fight, so Cecilia decided to postpone for a day,” I managed a weak smile, “We’re going to have a makeup dinner tomorrow, you and Rebel are invited,” he didn’t look too excited about that, and his expression grew panicked as I covered my mouth with a hand, pinching my eyes shut, “Could you put Rebel to bed, please?”

“Go sit in the kitchen,” was his answer, and he stood up, scooping Rebel into his arms, “I’ll join you in a little.”

I nodded as he left the room, dropping my hand from my mouth and breathing shakily as I shut the television off and made my way into the kitchen, turning on the low-light before sitting on one of the stools, putting my elbows against the counter and dropping my face into my lifted hands, tears pouring from my eyes.

Shaede joined me in a matter of minutes, carrying a first-aid kit and a small rag that he set on the counter before grabbing a bowl and filling it with warm water, then taking the stool to my left so he could soak the rag and carefully clean my cheek off, a stoic expression on his face, though his eyes were roiling.

“What happened?” he asked me, and I rubbed at my eyes before dropping my hands to the counter.

“I told them,” I said, laughing, “I told them Rebel wasn’t Priscilla’s. I mean, I didn’t tell them everything, they don’t know he’s Malcolm’s, but they know he’s filthy,” I covered my mouth again, “They know that the pups harass him.”

“And Priscilla?”

“She confronted me when I left,” I explained, “Tried to kiss me, so I pushed her away, and she slapped me, claws out, called me a whore,” I laughed again, dropping my head, “I’m okay.”

“You’re not,” Shaede argued softly, setting the bloody rag down and popping the medical kit open, “These might scar.”

I shrugged, “What’s a few more to add on?”

“Malcolm will ask questions.”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as Shaede sealed the scratches with closure bandages, “Yea, he will. I don’t know what I’ll say.”

“Well, it’s dark out,” Shaede started, “Maybe you fell and smacked your face when you tried sneaking in. You didn’t want to wake Rebel up by turning on the lights, so it was inevitable.”

I chuckled lowly, looking at Shaede in amusement, “You’re so bad to help me cover this up.”

He shrugged, pulling out a big square bandage like the one that was on Rebel’s cheek, “I’ll follow your lead, you know that. You’re not ready to tell anyone about this, so I won’t push you into it unnecessarily. All I can do is try to look after you.”

I smiled weakly as he placed the bandage in place, “You don’t have to,” I said, “Honestly, I don’t deserve you,” I turned my head to look at him directly when he was done smoothing the bandage, “You didn’t have to save me that day, you didn’t have to help me at all. You could have just taken my supplies and left me, but not only did you save my life, and Rebel’s, you decided to return to pack life just to look out for us,” I shook my head, “Why?”

Shaede’s jaw clenched and he looked down, I could see his thoughts jumbling just behind his eyes, he seemed to be fighting with himself, part of him wanting to speak but another part unsure of how. In the end, he just shrugged, giving me a simple look.

“Maybe I just have a soft spot for kids.”

I rolled my eyes and stepped off the stool, “Well, considering you glare at every living creature that comes near you unless their names are Scott and Rebel, I highly doubt that,” Shaede just shrugged, and I smiled at him, “Regardless, I’m really happy to have you here. Thank you.”

Shaede nodded slowly, “You should get some sleep.”

“You too,” I chided, “You’re coming to dinner with me tomorrow,” he cringed, and I set my hands on my hips, narrowing my eyes at him, “Nope, don’t give me that look. These are the people who raised me, they deserve to meet you. Besides, I need someone else with me to keep Rebel calm and not freaked out.”

Shaede sighed in frustration and tipped his head back, “Don’t expect me to socialize.”

“Oh, I don’t,” I smiled slyly, “Have fun telling that to Cecilia. She’s a mother, keep in mind, so she doesn’t exactly let sleeping lone’s lie.”

“Great,” Shaede mumbled, and I laughed as I turned around, leaving the kitchen.

That day had not been great, but hopefully tomorrow night would prove to be better. All I could do for now was flop onto my bed with a sigh and close my eyes, praying Malcolm wouldn’t push me to talk about Rebel’s “mother”, because if those people kept asking me about it, I guarantee I would snap and tell them the truth.