Cassia sat at Arthur’s bedside, fingers stroking gently through his hair as if afraid he might vanish if she let go.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked again, her voice softer than a whisper. Her eyes scanned over him for the hundredth time, lingering on his cheeks, his breathing, his temperature….anything to reassure herself.
Arthur rolled his eyes but smiled faintly. “Mommy, I’m okay. You’ve asked me like… a hundred times.”
“You can’t blame me for asking.” Her throat tightened, her chest heavy with the memory of last night. “I just… I need to be sure.”
Arthur watched her, studying her face the way only a child who knew his mother’s moods too well could. “I know, Mommy. I know how much you love me.”
He said it so matter–of–factly, as if her fierce devotion was written into his very bones.
They weren’t just mother and son, they were each other’s anchor.
“Do you… do you know how you got out?” Cassia asked, her voice catching.
Arthur shook his head. “Not really. I was sleepy. I remember Alpha Aiden carrying me. He told me to go back to sleep, said everything was okay. I thought I was dreaming. I didn’t even know the house was on fire.”
Cassia’s lips trembled into a smile. “I’m just glad we’re okay.”
“Yeah,” Arthur nodded earnestly. “We should thank Alpha Aiden. He saved us.”
Cassia’s hands stilled on his hair. For a moment she said nothing, her jaw tightening. Finally, she forced a smile. “Sure. Of course, I’ll thank him.”
Arthur yawned, then blinked at her with those wide, brown eyes. “Where are we going to stay now that our house is gone?”
Cassia let out a heavy breath. “I don’t know yet. We’ll… find another apartment.”
Arthur’s shoulders sagged. “I really liked our old house. I hope the new place is even better.”
Cassia couldn’t bring herself to answer.
Just then Arthur noticed a figure at the door. James leaned against the frame, his hands buried in his pockets,
his steady gaze fixed on them.
“Hey, Arthur,” James greeted with a small smile. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel better,” Arthur said honestly. Then his eyes lit up. “Where’s Alpha Aiden?”
James saw the hope flicker in the boy’s face and for a moment it softened him. “He left, but he’ll be back soon.”
Arthur nodded and settled back against the pillows.
James‘ eyes shifted to Cassia. She held his gaze for a second before looking away.
“Can I speak with you? Alone,” he said quietly.
Cassia hesitated, her instinct telling her to refuse. But she remembered, she needed him. He was her only link to Tracy, and through Tracy, her family.
“Fine.” She stood, smoothing down her clothes. “I’ll be right outside, Arthur. If you need me, just call.”
17:40 Fri, Oct 17
Chapter 67
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James continued carefully, “That’s why we were thinking maybe you should move into the pack house…”
“What? Never!” Cassia cut him off, her voice sharp, almost a scream. Her body trembled, every nerve ending flaring with rejection. “I will never step back into that house with my son. Never!”
James‘ lips pressed into a line. He understood. That mansion was soaked with memories, her marriage, her rejection, her child’s death. Asking her to go back there was like asking her to bleed all over again.
But her safety outweighed sentiment.
“I know you don’t want to,” he said gently. “But think about it. They tried once. They’ll try again. At the pack house, with Aiden and the security detail, you’ll be protected. Arthur will be protected. Just one week. That’s all I’m asking. We’ll find who did this, and then you can move to a new place with guards. You won’t be there forever.
Cassia turned, pressing a hand to her forehead. Through the glass of the ward door, she saw Arthur lying quietly on the bed, his small chest rising and falling. The thought of exposing him to the hospital’s disease- ridden halls made her stomach twist tighter. His immune system was fragile, he couldn’t stay here long.
Her voice cracked. “How long?”
“One week,” James said quickly. “Just one week.”
Cassia’s jaw clenched, her lips trembling as she weighed fear against pride, safety against the ghosts of her past. Finally, she exhaled shakily.
“Fine. I’ll… talk to Arthur first.” Her voice was flat, her decision reluctant but unyielding.
And with that, she turned and walked back into the ward, leaving James standing in the hallway, watching her retreat.

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