Bonds

Chapter 114

-Maya’s POV-

My birthday was still a few months away, but if I could have wished on a shooting star right now, I knew exactly what it would be. My father and Alex, crammed together in a tiny car, driving off a cliff straight into the fiery depths of you–know–where.

Okay, maybe that was a bit much. But seriously, the nerve of those twol Here I was, having to call Ms. Rodriguez back yet again to watch the twins while Ivan and I dealt with their latest explosion.

Did this drama ever freaking end?

And to top it all off, Alex had the audacity to stand there, completely unapologetic, like he hadn’t just thrown my father through a wall. As if that wasn’t bad enough, my jerk of a father practically blamed the whole thing on me. Of course he did.

Now, here I was, staring down at a pile of massacred carrots at 1 am in the morning. My wolf was practically clawing its way out of my skin. She was furious, and let’s be honest, so was 1. We both needed to rip something to shreds, but I knew unleashing her wouldn’t exactly be the

best course of action.

With all the chaos, I still hadn’t fully processed the fact that I’d shifted. It felt surreal, like a scene from a movie that had somehow landed smack dab in the middle of my very real life.

“Those carrots would beg for mercy if they could–talk,” a voice said behind me.

I jumped, startled. Ivan stood at the entrance of the kitchen, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a hint of amusement. He raised an eyebrow, silently conveying the message with his eyes.

Following his gaze, I looked back down at the chopping board. What had I been doing? Slicing carrots? More like brutally murdering them. Each one was reduced to mangled shreds, a testament to my simmering frustration.

He chuckled softly and walked towards me. “Maybe you should put down the knife for a bit,” he suggested gently. He took the knife from my hand without a struggle and carefully pushed the destroyed carrots aside.

“They’ll never learn to behave, will they?” he muttered, more to himself than to me.

draining away. There wasn’t much point in arguing. He was right and also, chopping vegetables wasn’t exactly the most therapeutic

hug, his warmth a welcome comfort. “Your father is an ass,” he murmured into my hair. “But honestly, I can’t really hate him. After all, he’s the

at the corners of my lips. “You just had to switch things up and make me feel like a complete goofball,

you?”

sound rich and

what he said,” he muttered softly. “It’s

the anger finally dissolving. He really did know how to disarm me, how to make me see the ridiculousness of the situation. “Thank you,” I

Chapter 114

escaped my lips, catching me by surprise. “We should probably get you to bed,” Ivan said, concern flickering in his eyes. “I don’t know why you were even chopping vegetables at 1 am, but hey, we have work tomorrow.

leaning into him. The exhaustion was hitting me like a ton of bricks. The adrenaline from the whole Alex fiasco had kept me going for a while, but now

warm and steady on my lower back. The twins‘ room was quiet, the soft glow of a nightlight casting dancing shadows on the walls. I pecked in for a moment, watching them sleep peacefully, their little chests

big,” I whispered, the wonder of motherhood washing

leaned down and kissed my forehead. “They are,”

with the

the worst of days.

I sank onto the edge of the

want me to help you get changed?” he asked gently, already reaching for the buttons on his

monumental. “I can manage,” I mumbled, pulling off my shirt and tossing

and dimmed the bedside lamp, plunging the room into a soft twilight. The exhaustion, finally unburdened of the adrenaline rush, washed over me in waves. My eyelids felt heavy, threatening to shut with

to get

the covers, the warmth a welcome embrace against the chill of the night. But sleep, that elusive friend, remained just out of reach. My

in my head on a loop, each harsh word echoing in the quiet of the night. My frustration simmered alongside a dull ache of betrayal. How could he act so callous, so unrepentant

stung, even though I knew better. He was a master at deflecting blame, always leaving me feeling

sound that seemed to vibrate through the silence, I rolled onto

softly, his voice laced with

appease him. But the knot of tension in my stomach wouldn’t allow it. “No,” I admitted, my

hand, hesitantly at first, and then rested it gently on my back. The warmth of his touch was a grounding force, pulling me back from the