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He stayed with Freya and Lilith for a while, until Thalia decided she wanted to adopt the boy, so we brought him back to the cabin with the two of us. Of any of the Alphas from Calico, I was probably the least likely to father a child, but the kid has somehow grown on me.

“Still not talking?” Atticus asks from behind, to which I shake my head.

Asher hasn’t spoken a word since the convent, which hasn’t bothered me much, since I’m not one for conversation myself, anyway. He accompanies me on hunts, and where Thalia offers the love and affection the kid seems to lack, I provide security and lessons in survival. The boy’s ability to walk amongst the Ragers means that I don’t have to hawk him too much when he wanders off exploring sometimes, either.

Taking a seat beside me, Asher nabs a nearby stick and pokes at the fire, while the three of us sit quiet and reflective, Atticus and I sipping our liquor.

“What’s a cockabob?” the boy asks, filling the silence between us with an unexpected sound that takes me a second to process as Asher’s voice.

I stare for a moment, wondering if the question did, in fact, come from him.

The irritating racket of Atticus’s laughter breaks my concentration, and stirs an urge to silence the other Alpha with a much deserved fist to the face. Thankfully, the asshole gets up and walks away, or the prospect might be too damn tempting.

“Nothing, kid. Forget he said it.” Shooting a quick glance back at Thalia to make sure she didn’t happen to be in earshot, I rub my hands together. “And, uh … do me a favor and don’t repeat that in front of Thalia, okay?”

“You mean Mom?”

The sound of the word jars my attention for a second. Mom. Keeping my smile mostly under wraps, so the kid doesn’t get all embarrassed, I glance toward Thalia again, certain she’d tear up if she heard him say it. “Yeah. Your mom.”

“‘Kay. I won’t say it.” He twists the burnt end of the stick over the stone pit, drawing black ash lines there. “Can I … Can I call you dad?” The boy doesn’t look at me when he asks, and good thing, too, because the stupid expression I can feel creeping over my face would probably have the kid running for the trees again.

I’ve faced off with some of the most dangerous creatures in this world, and didn’t so much as flinch at size, or ferocity, but nothing scares the shit out of me like children with their curious questions. I probably look like a mole rat catching its reflection for the first time. Confused and terrified, but kind of happy at the same time.

“Sure. You can call me dad. If that’s what you want.”

Asher nods, casually wiping the back of his hand across his nose. “It’s what I want.”

Elbows resting on my knees, I return a nod. “Okay, then.”

“Dad?”

Strange hearing him say that, gives a weird sort of feeling that has me scratching the back of my head. “Yeah.”

“Will I turn Rager someday?”

Fuck. Once again, I find myself searching for Thalia, who’d handle this question far better than I can. Still chatting with Freya, she smiles and waves, oblivious to the conversation.

I can’t lie to the boy. I won’t. I’ve been lied to most of my childhood, by doctors and scientists, and all it did was turn me into a pissed off adult. “Doc Levins says that’s a possibility. I guess you could, yeah.”

Every week, Thalia has been taking the boy to visit the doctor’s makeshift clinic at Freya’s camp, and each time, she’s told the same thing: there’s no guarantee that he won’t turn Rager, or end up like Remus and Agatha with psychopathic behavior. As a result, she tries to smother that possibility with affection toward the kid. Whether it’s worked, or the boy just isn’t likely to turn, at all, he seems to be doing okay. So far.

“I hope I don’t. I don’t want to die.” Asher’s voice carries tears and hits me like a punch to the chest.

I’m no stranger to those thoughts, as I had them for years, with all the shit they did to me in Calico, but hell if I’m equipped at easing his fears. I’ve had to learn to just accept and evolve with mine. “Look, kid … Asher … son. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I promise you, I won’t let anything, or anyone, hurt you. Got it?”

He sits quiet for a moment, and with the fire burning, I catch the reflection of tears in his eyes, before he shoots up and barrels straight into me. Knocked stupid for a moment, I hold my arms out, not sure what to do with them. Can’t remember if I’ve ever even hugged a child before. Takes a good few seconds before my head prods me to wrap my arms around the boy, and when I do, something strange stirs inside of me. Kind of warm and fuzzy. Pleasantly aggravating.

Kids have never really been part of the plan for me. This world is too hard and cold for something so innocent as a baby, so the fact that Thalia can’t bear my child never really bothered me. But I’ve got to admit, something about earning the kid’s trust feels pretty good. Hearing him call me dad was kind of nice, too, even if it felt a little weird.

I pat the kid’s back, taking in the small and fragile arms that cling tight around my neck.

Asher.

My son.

Son.

And just like that, the promise I made to the boy becomes a living, breathing thing that pounds inside my chest.