Her eyes widened. “The man in the park?”
He nodded.
She sat down, then, staring blindly around the room.
“You knew something was wrong. You felt it, didn’t you?” he asked.
She nodded. “But this?”
“Cyrus wants to track down me and those I turned. To kill us, keep us caged, I’m not sure. But the birth of my son seems to have Cyrus and his pack on alert.”
Her green eyes fixed on him, but she stayed silent.
“This is all about control. They, the Others, want ultimate control.” He paused. “Jessa?”
“What happened to Oscar’s mother?”
“She died in a car accident,” he said.
“Did she?” she asked. “Like your brother and his fiancée?” It was a whisper but her point was made.
He opened his mouth, then closed it. “Hollis isn’t sure what happened to her. She was found in a wrecked car.” He waited, hoping she wouldn’t ask about Greg. It was too much.
“What you’re telling me—this is real?”
He reached for her hands. But she recoiled, tucking her hands under her thighs and leaning back into the cushion. He stiffened, nodding once. “It is.”
She nodded. “This is a lot to take in, Mr. Dean.”
The “Mr. Dean” was a kick to the gut. “And harder to believe?”
She didn’t say anything—she didn’t have to. The confusion on her face, processing everything he said, was plain to see.
“Cyrus wants Oscar?” She paused. He felt her panic, her fear. “Will Oscar change?”
“We don’t know. None of us were born this way,” he admitted.
“How will you know?” she asked.
“The full moon is next week. Anything is possible.”
“So, that’s real? Next week?” She brushed past him to the crib, peering down at Oscar. She stared at his son with such love it tore at his heart. “Oh, little one.”
“I know.” The words stuck in his throat. “Brown’s concerned that Cyrus will think you are my mate. You told him you were waiting on Oscar’s father?”
“I wanted him to leave,” she said, her tone defensive. “If anything, he’ll think I was with Brown—considering how hard I was holding on to him.”
“Your scent,” he started, breaking off. He had to tell her, if only to keep her close. “Your scent is mingled with mine. And Oscar’s.”
Her features tightened. “He smelled me,” she whispered. “I thought I’d imagined it.”
Then he knows you’re mine.
He shook his head and stood, unable to take the distance between them any longer. “The wolf’s sense of smell is important. They can scent pack relations—enemies, allies, and mates.” He moved to Oscar’s crib, content to be close to them both. “You are my pack. He’ll know that now.”
“What if I don’t want to be part of your pack?” she asked.
Her words cut through him. “It doesn’t matter what you want.” His gaze held hers. “It has nothing to do with want. It’s a fact.”