My Ex Alpha Claims My Son

I couldn't breathe.

Baker's scream cut off as he disappeared over the edge, and the world stopped. My legs were moving, carrying me toward the ravine, but I knew—I knew I was too far. Too slow.

Then the air shifted.

Cullen appeared beside me in a blur of motion that shouldn't have been possible. One moment he wasn't there. The next, he was diving over the cliff edge without hesitation, without fear.

I dropped to my knees at the ravine's lip, my hands gripping stone, my throat raw from screaming. Below, I could see the jagged rocks, the impossible distance, the—

A flash of black.

Cullen's hand shot out, catching Baker's small body mid-fall. The impact should have torn them both down, but Cullen's other hand slammed into the cliff face, his fingers digging into solid rock like it was soft clay. Cracks spiderwebbed across the stone.

He climbed.

Not scrambled. Not struggled. He climbed with fluid, inhuman grace, one hand holding our son against his chest while the other carved handholds from sheer rock. His movements were too fast, too powerful, too everything that a normal wolf could never be.

When he hauled himself back over the edge, Baker clutched against him, I saw his eyes.

Gold. Pure, burning gold.

Not the amber of a wolf. Not the flash of an Alpha's dominance. This was something older. Something that made every instinct in my body scream both danger and safety at once.

Cullen set Baker down gently, checking him over with shaking hands. Our son was crying, terrified but unhurt. Alive.

Then Cullen stood.

The temperature dropped.

I felt his aura unfurl like massive wings spreading across the forest. It pressed down on everything, a weight that had nothing to do with physical force and everything to do with pure, undeniable power. The air itself seemed to thicken, to bow under the pressure of what he was.

Around us, wolves appeared—Alphas and Lunas who'd heard the commotion, drawn by Baker's scream and my own. They took one look at Cullen and dropped.

Not knelt. Dropped. Face-first to the ground, necks bared, bodies trembling.

Axel hit the dirt so hard I heard the impact. Mya collapsed beside him, her face pressed into fallen leaves. Even Lennox, young as he was, felt the instinctive terror and submitted.

Cullen's voice, when he spoke, didn't sound human.

"You tried to kill my son."

The words rolled across the clearing like thunder. Several wolves whimpered. I saw one Luna actually pass out.

I should have been afraid. Any sane person would have been. But all I felt was fierce, burning pride. This was my mate. This was the male who'd chosen me, loved me, saved our child.

"Cullen." I touched his arm gently.

His eyes found mine, and some of the gold receded. His hand covered mine, squeezing once. Then he looked back at the prostrate wolves.

"I am Cullen Lane, Lycan King of the Western Territories." His voice carried to every corner of the forest. "And you will explain why a child was pushed toward death at a Summit meant to ensure peace."

No one moved. No one dared.

Then Axel laughed.

It was a broken, terrible sound. His face was still pressed to the ground, his body shaking under the weight of Cullen's aura, but he laughed like a man whose mind had finally snapped.

"Lycan King," he gasped out. "Of course. Of course you'd need a king to steal what's mine."

"Axel—" Marcus's voice came from somewhere behind us, pleading.

"No!" Axel forced his head up, his neck muscles straining against the instinct to submit. Blood vessels burst in his eyes from the effort. "I invoke the ancient right! I demand a Pack Tribunal!"

The forest went silent.

A Pack Tribunal. An old law, one that predated even the Lycan Courts. A formal challenge that couldn't be refused, designed to settle disputes over bloodlines and inheritance. It required evidence, witnesses, sacred oaths.

It required truth.

Cullen's aura pulsed once, hard enough that several wolves cried out. "You dare—"

"I dare because he's my son!" Axel's voice cracked. "You can kill me, Your Majesty, but you can't change blood. That boy has my eyes. My scent. I felt it the moment I saw him. The bond doesn't lie!"

He was crying now, tears cutting tracks through the dirt on his face. His wolf was so close to the surface that his words came out half-growl.

"Olivia faked the death certificate. She hid my heir to punish me. I know it. My wolf knows it. And a Tribunal will prove it."

Mya lifted her head slightly, her expression calculating even in submission. "The law is clear, Your Majesty. A Tribunal demand cannot be denied when bloodline is questioned."

I felt Cullen's fury through our bond, hot and deadly. He could refuse. He could kill Axel where he knelt and no one would question a Lycan King's judgment.

But that would make Axel a martyr. It would leave doubt, whispers, questions about Baker's parentage that would follow our son forever.

I squeezed Cullen's hand. Met his golden eyes. And nodded once.

Let them have their Tribunal.

Let them learn the truth.

Cullen's jaw clenched. Then he spoke, his voice carrying the weight of royal decree.

"Three days. The Tribunal will convene in three days." His eyes burned into Axel. "And when it proves you wrong, Alpha Hayes, you will face justice for what you've done."

He released his aura.

Wolves gasped, gulping air like they'd been drowning. Axel collapsed completely, his body shaking. Mya crawled to him, whispering something in his ear.

Cullen lifted Baker into his arms. Took my hand. And we walked away from the ravine, leaving them all kneeling in our wake.

But I heard Axel's voice, broken and desperate, calling after us.

"He's mine. He's mine. He's mine."

And I knew—in three days, I would have to break him completely.