Knot The One They Want

Yurena Pov

I love my son, but my hatred for Alma is stronger than that love.

"Love, are you okay?" Miles asks, his warm touch resting on my hand. I nod, tugging the blanket tighter around me. "You know you can talk to me, right? You can tell me anything," he says, offering me a soft smile as his fingers brush my cheek.

No. This is something I can’t talk to you about, Miles. The secrets I hold, the ones I’ve buried deep, would ruin this family if they ever came to light.

"I’m fine, Miles. When am I not?" I murmur, turning away from him on the bed. I know if I look at him any longer, I’ll end up crying, and that would make everything I’ve done from lying to Torin today and ruining Oril’s life, all for nothing.

I hear Miles sigh behind me before he switches off the lights and sinks into the bed, his hand sliding to my waist. This will all be behind me soon. Lorali wouldn’t dare speak of this matter.

I close my eyes and wait for the darkness to take me.

"What do babies eat?" I ask, rocking the wailing infant in my arms. Thank the goddess that Alma’s rooms are impeccably soundproofed, or else I would have been caught by now.

"Milk, I think. My mother breastfed my sister," Cleovera answers, her gaze lifting briefly from her knitting. She’s making clothes for the baby, her hands deft and patient. I am forever grateful for her help. Without her, I would have died in labor or worse, been expelled from Alma.

"I’m supposed to put my breast in her mouth? How will she know to suck? She’s just a baby," I ask, tilting my head. I know it sounds foolish, but I’m new to this. I’ve only been a mother for a week.

"Yu, that’s so stupid. It’s like asking how does a baby know how to poop," she laughs, bringing her gaze back down to her knitting.

"How does a baby know how to poop?" I press, genuinely curious.

"They just know!"

That’s odd. If they can poop on their own and know how to drink milk, why can’t they walk, crawl, or sit up? If you can poop, surely you can walk. Maybe not talk—that requires skill—but still.

"By the way, what are you naming her? You can’t keep referring to her as ’the baby,’" Cleovera says, her tone firm but kind.

"I was hoping you could name her," I say slowly, turning to face her. "Seeing as she’s only alive because of you, you’re like her godmother." I smile, and Cleovera’s eyes widen, her mouth dropping open.

"Me?" she drags the word, pointing to herself. "You want me to name her?"

I nod quickly. "Please name her."

She rises from her nest slowly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Well... if you want me to, I guess I can."

"What about Yolisa? I named her after you and Liam, who I think is her father, not Chad. She’s got Liam’s eyes."

"Yolisa is a wonderful name," I say warmly.

I laugh. "And I also think Liam is her father. She takes after him and me perfectly."

We laugh together, the sound filling the room, and Yolisa’s wails fade. She gazes at us with wide, curious eyes, as if she understands.

~~~~~~

"Mother, today I met a boy. He was cool," Torin shouts, throwing his backpack to the ground with a thud that echoes through the kitchen. His uniform is a mess, shirt untucked, socks missing and his hair sticking up in wild tufts. It’s a far cry from the clean and proper image his fathers demands he uphold so he doesn’t embarrass the Spade name. I watch him, and I pray every day that the secret of his blood never reaches the light of day.

I never wanted to have an affair. It was a mistake born of grief, a weakness I fell into when the world felt like it was collapsing. Liam had just been hired as my driver, the pack insisted an omega would be more suitable than an average beta.

At the time, I was already drowning. There were no leads on Yolisa, and my so‑called fucking cunt of a friend refused to tell me where they had hidden her. I couldn’t find the old headmistress of Alma either. I’m sure I would have found her by now if I had the pack’s help. Instead, I was alone, stressed, and the pack demanded an heir I could not give because my mind was consumed with worry.

I could tell no one but Liam. He was the only person who knew about Yolisa, after all, she was his daughter. One thing led to another, and we slept together often. It wasn’t love, it was grief binding us, grief twisting into something physical. The affair was short, fleeting and when I found out I was pregnant with Torin, I convinced myself it was the pack’s child. How wrong I was.

When Torin was born he looked exactly like Yolisa when she was a baby. Doubt gnawed at me. I ordered a DNA test between Liam and Torin. The results were undeniable, 100% related. Liam and I decided to keep it a secret. It would be better for Torin to grow up in a wealthy pack than in Liam’s struggling one. Liam wasn’t as lucky as me after Valma expelled him. He was supposed to remain by Torin’s side as the help, but Jacob, my main Alpha, fired him only a month after Torin’s birth. He never told me why.

"Mother!" Torin shouts again, snapping me out of my thoughts. His words come out slurred because of his missing front teeth, making him look ridiculous, yet endearing in a way only children can be.

"What is it, Torin?" I ask, bending to pick up the bag he dropped. It’s heavy for a kindergarten child, stuffed with books and supplies that seem far too much for his age.

"There’s a new boy at school, and he’s really cool. He also has a twin," Torin says excitedly, climbing onto the kitchen stool like it’s a mountain to be conquered. His little hands grip the edges, his legs swinging as he settles in. I laugh at the sight, opening his bag to check his things.

"Oh, really now? What’s his name?" This is the first time Torin has ever been excited about anything, let alone another person. His eyes sparkle, his voice brimming with energy.

"Oril," he says proudly. "He says when he’s older, he’s going to be a star and everyone will know his name. He is so cool. Cooler than Erin."

"What makes him so cool?" I ask, amused by the way Torin’s entire face lights up at the mention of this boy. His excitement is infectious, though I keep my tone measured and curious.

Torin leans forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as if sharing a great secret. "He’s brave. He doesn’t care what the teachers say. He talks back, and everyone listens. He says he’s going to be famous, and I believe him. He’s not scared of anything."

"And...Um... don’t tell my fathers, but I got scared of a butterfly that landed on me during recess, and Oril saved me by blowing it away. All the other kids were scared too," Torin whispers, his voice dropping low like it’s some forbidden secret. Probably because it is. Jacob would have his head if he ever found out Torin was frightened by something as harmless as a butterfly.

Torin is small, tiny compared to the other children, and Jacob hates that. He wants Torin to be the biggest, the smartest and the strongest in every room. He wants him to be an Alpha, something I don’t think will ever happen.

"I won’t tell your fathers," I reassure him softly.

"Won’t tell me what?" A voice cuts through the air behind us, sharp and commanding. Torin’s eyes flash with fear. I turn to see Jacob striding toward us, Cedric trailing behind like a shadow.

"Well..." I begin, but Jacob’s fury interrupts me before I can form the words.

"Torin Spade, why do you look as if you rolled in the mud?" Jacob seethes, his gaze locking on Torin.

Torin scrambles to his feet, stammering. "I...I..."

"I have told you countless times, YOU ARE A SPADE! You cannot be seen in public looking like this. It’s bad for the company!" Jacob’s voice rises, booming, filling the room. He stops directly in front of Torin, his shadow swallowing the boy whole.

"I’m sorry..." Torin mumbles, his small voice trembling.

"Is it truly impossible for you to be a Spade, no matter how much money I pour into you?" Jacob mutters, running a hand through his hair, frustration dripping from every movement before his gaze snaps back to Torin, sharp and merciless.

"He made a friend today, Jacob. They were playing," I speak up, unable to keep silent, unable to watch my son shrink under the weight of his father’s rage. But my words only fuel Jacob’s anger.

The slap lands before I can stop it, cracking across Torin’s cheek. My heart lurches.

"So you did this for a friend? You smeared the Spade name for a FRIEND? What is truly wrong with you?" Jacob roars.

"Woah, Jacob, calm down. There’s no need to hit him!" Cedric shouts, rushing forward. He drops to his knees beside Torin, pulling the boy against his chest, shielding him. And me, his mother, the only one with blood ties to him, can’t even move.

"Remember this, Torin. In this world, you put everything and anything below Spade. Even us. Spade is god for us. Do you hear me?" Jacob commands, his fist clenched tight.

"Y...es, father," Torin whispers, broken.

"This will be the last time you disappoint me, the last time you neglect your duties as my heir," Jacob declares before turning on his heel and walking away.

Tears spill down Torin’s face the moment Jacob is gone, but he doesn’t make a sound. His eyes meet mine, and the sharp pain that hits my heart nearly brings me to my knees.

My eyes snap open in the dark room, where silence mixes with Miles’s steady snores. I’m drenched in sweat, my heartbeat pounding wildly against my chest. I quickly move Miles’s hand off me and slip out of bed, heading to the balcony for fresh air.

Why would I dream about those days tonight of all nights? I always regretted that I never did anything to help Torin that day. I regret letting Cleovera name my child. Both of them were my babies, and I failed them both. Tears spill down my face, mingling with the cold night air. I have already lost one child. I cannot lose another to yet another Alma bitch. It cannot happen.

I walk back into the room, careful to keep my steps quiet, and pull my phone from the charger. My fingers tremble as I type out a message to Torin.

Me:

Meet me at the location I sent you. There is something I need to tell you about Oril and Lorali.

I stand there impatiently, praying he isn’t asleep. I need to do this now. If I wait until tomorrow, I’ll lose the courage. I’ll come clean. I’ll tell Torin about his father. At least then I won’t be at the mercy of Lorali keeping her mouth shut.

My phone finally vibrates in my hand with a single reply.

My Heart:

👍 I’ll be there.