Michaelson's POV
Seven years have passed, and everything seems to have changed rapidly. The small plants are flourishing into big trees, while icebergs and glaciers are melting away over global warming.
The pack had also grown much more powerful, and was now known by every other pack for its resilience and strong defense.
My six year old son, Dwayne, and I were sitting in the living room watching a TV program, when a news headline suddenly appeared on the screen.
I think it was about the crisis in the human world.
It was a high profile report about a successful investigative journalist, who had solved an outstanding case involving drug abuse, sexual slavery and child trafficking by wealthy families.
The pimps and drug addicts who had broken the government's laws were finally put behind bars or sent to rehabilitation centers.
I turned to my son, who was busy munching chocolate chip cookies, and decided to tease him a little.
Although he was undeniably cute, he was quite talkative. And, he was kind of a smaller version of myself because we both shared a striking resemblance.
"Hey, buddy, mind if I have some of your cookies?" I asked, raising my eyebrows playfully.
"No, you can't," he replied with a childish grin.
"But why?" I asked teasingly.
"Because you'll ask for more after the first bite, since my cookies are extremely delicious and irresistible," he replied, folding his arms as he feigned annoyance.
"Pretty please, son. I'm just so hungry. I promise I won't ask for more." I made a sad face.
"Cross your heart," he demanded playfully.
"You have my word, son. Now come on, snap out of it," I poked him, making him giggle slightly.
"Stop it, Dad! Okay, fine. I was just kidding. Here you go. You can have the whole bowl to yourself," he said, laughing.
Suddenly, the reporter announced the arrival of the famous investigative journalist, who was live on stage, and that brought my attention back to the news. I wanted to know who this person was, who had finally cracked the case that had been making waves across the internet.
Smiling at Dwayne, I grabbed a cookie and turned my gaze back to the television, only to see someone whose appearance struck me to my core.
Frozen in amazement, I realized that the person on the screen was none other than Charlotte Anderson, my excommunicated mate.
She looked confident as she eloquently addressed the audience. She was now far more mature, and her striking personality had made her even more beautiful.
From her speech on stage, I learned that she had many enemies in the human world, who were secretly offering huge rewards to anyone willing to assassinate her, but she didn't give a damn.
At that moment, my wolf, Ryker, sensed that our mate was in danger. I guess it was finally time for her to return to the pack.
Seven years ago, because of the werewolf attacks from rival packs and other external enemies, I made the difficult decision to send all the underage werewolves away. I wasn't sure I could contain the chaos that threatened to consume the pack.
During that same period, I banished Charlotte, using the cruelest and most convincing method I could think of, to make her believe that I had thrown her out willingly.
It still hurts me deeply that she had to go through so much pain and heartbreak because of my actions.
Over the years, the Winter Moon Pack gradually returned to the peaceful state it had once been known for. Most importantly, it became recognized as the most formidable pack, with me reigning as its strongest Alpha.
Once everything had finally settled down, I learned that Charlotte had chosen to remain in the human world.
Ever since then, I've been trying to make amends with her. I've already sent her letters multiple times, but she deliberately ignored every single one instead of reading what I had written.
It infuriates me that she would act so recklessly, when she knows her life is in danger if she continues living there.
I can't risk losing her. That's why I kept sending those letters, hoping I could finally tell her the truth.
Suddenly, the ringing of my cell phone pulled me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the caller ID.
It was Corey Graves, my Beta.
"Hello," I said, lifting the phone to my ear.
"Hello, Alpha. I just saw the news. Shouldn't we bring her back already? I think it's too dangerous for her to stay there all alone," he informed, panic evident in his voice.
He clearly didn't want his Luna to get hurt. I rose from the couch, gently ruffling Dwayne's hair before walking over to the glass window.
"Yeah, I've been thinking about that. I've finally decided that we'll bring her back by force if she insists on being stubborn,"
"Give her one final ultimatum. Tell her that if she refuses to return, we will have no choice but to employ the use of force," I added firmly, my voice leaving no room for argument.
"Understood, Alpha. I'll take care of it," Corey affirmed.
The line went dead afterward.
As I turned around, I noticed Dwayne staring at the television.
Apparently, I wasn't the only one captivated by the woman's appearance. He listened intently, ignoring his cookies for what seemed like the first time ever.
The moment he heard the famous investigative journalist's name, he quickly grabbed a pen and a sheet of parchment paper, carefully writing down every detail about her, from her name to her appearance.
Without saying a word, Dwayne jumped off the couch and ran upstairs, leaving me staring after him in surprise.
I was certain he was heading to his room, but I had no idea what he was planning. His unusual behavior a while ago kept nagging at me.
Kids his age would normally choose cartoons over breaking news, yet Dwayne had been completely engrossed in the broadcast.
After giving him a moment, I quietly followed him upstairs and stopped outside his bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, giving me a clear view of everything inside.
Peeking through the opening, I saw Dwayne sitting at his desk in front of his computer, his fingers flying across the keyboard.
As I looked closer, I realized he was entering all the information he had gathered from the news report. He moved the cursor, clicked the search button, and moments later, detailed information about Charlotte appeared on the screen.
Dwayne carefully wrote down every new detail he found online. When he finished, his gaze shifted toward his cupboard. He stood up, walked over to the drawer, and pulled out a savings jar.
He stared at it for a while as though silently counting the money inside, before finally removing the lid. The moment I realized what he was planning, I reached out to Corey through the mind link.
{Corey, report here immediately. I think my son is up for the task.}
