Asher's POV

Ariana stood in the garden pathway, her midnight blue dress catching the light from the manor. She looked stunning and furious, her green eyes blazing with an emotion I couldn't quite read.

Terror, maybe. Or rage.

Vincent stood beside her, his expression was the same as hers.

"What exactly does she know about me?" Ariana repeated, her voice sharp as broken glass.

I looked between them, confusion settling in my gut. "What are you talking about?"

"Answer the question, Asher." She stepped closer, and I caught her scent—jasmine and oud, familiar and foreign all at once. "What did you tell Isabella about my life? About where I've been, what I've been doing?"

"Nothing. I told her you were successful, that you had moved on. That's it." I glanced at Vincent. "What the hell is going on?"

"She hired an investigator," Vincent said quietly. "Isabella's been digging into Ariana's background for weeks."

My blood ran cold. "She what?"

"You didn't know?" Ariana laughed, bitter and sharp. "Of course you didn't. Your destined mate went behind your back and invaded my privacy, and you had no idea."

I pulled out my phone and had already dialed Isabella's number. She answered on the second ring.

"Darling, are you coming inside? Our guests are waiting."

"Did you hire an investigator to look into Ariana's life?"

Silence on the other end. Then, "I did what was necessary to protect our family."

"Our family? What the hell does that mean?"

"Come inside and we'll discuss it. Privately."

She hung up.

I stared at my phone, fury building in my chest. Then I looked at Ariana. "I didn't know. I swear, I had no idea she would do something like that."

"It doesn't matter what you knew." Ariana's voice shook. "What matters is what she found."

"What could she have possibly found that—" I stopped. The way Ariana was looking at me, the fear was barely masked behind her anger. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Everything," she whispered. "I'm not telling you everything."

Before I could respond, the garden door opened wider. Isabella appeared, backlit by the chandelier light, wearing a crimson dress that probably cost more than most people's cars.

"There you are," she said, smiling. "I was beginning to think our guest of honor wasn't coming." Her eyes landed on Ariana. "Ms. Kingsley. How lovely to finally meet you again."

Ariana said nothing.

Isabella's smile widened. "I've heard so much about you. Asher's told me all about your relationship. Young love. So sweet. So... temporary."

"Isabella." My voice carried a warning. "What did you do?"

"I protected us. Isn't that what mates do?" She walked down the steps, her heels clicking against stone. "Did you know, darling, that Ms. Kingsley left town rather abruptly six years ago? Right after our bonding ceremony."

"I was aware."

"But did you know where she went? What she do?" Isabella circled Ariana like a predator. "Paris. A prestigious fellowship, very impressive. She studied there for eighteen months before returning to establish her business here."

I didn't see where this was going, but the tension radiating off Ariana told me it was somewhere bad.

"During those eighteen months," Isabella continued, "she gave birth in a private hospital. To twins."

"What?" The word came out strangled.

Ariana closed her eyes. "Don't."

"A boy and a girl," Isabella said, her voice dripping false sweetness. "Born seven months after she left Westwood territory. Which means she was already pregnant when you found me. When we bonded."

I couldn't breathe or think. "Ariana, is this true?"

She opened her eyes and looked at me, and in that gaze I saw six years of pain and secrets. "Yes."

"You were pregnant." The words felt foreign in my mouth. "You left while carrying—" I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Your children," Isabella finished for me. "She's been raising your illegitimate offspring in secret for six years, Asher. Lying to you. Hiding them."

Rage exploded through me, hot and overwhelming. "You kept my children from me?"

"Don't you dare." Ariana's voice cracked. "Don't you dare act like the victim here. You threw me out, Asher. You chose her and told me to leave. I was three weeks pregnant and terrified, and you looked at me like I was nothing."

"I didn't know!"

"Would it have mattered?" Tears streamed down her face now. "Would you have chosen differently if you had known? Or would you have just demanded I get rid of them so they wouldn't complicate your perfect destined bond?"

The question hit me. Would I have? Six years ago, drunk on the mate bond, desperate to claim Isabella?

I wanted to say I would have done the right thing. But I honestly didn't know.

"They're illegitimate," Isabella said, her mask slipping to show the calculation beneath. "Bastards born outside of a bonded union. Pack law is clear about this, Asher. They have no claim to the Westwood name or legacy."

"They're my children," I growled. "That gives them every right—"

"They're mistakes. Products of a relationship that meant nothing the moment we bonded." Isabella's eyes glittered with triumph. "But I'm willing to be generous. Sign over custody, and we'll raise them properly. Give them the Westwood name, legitimize them through our bonding."

Ariana moved so fast I barely saw it. One moment she was standing still, the next she had Isabella by the throat, slamming her against the garden wall.

"Touch my children and I'll kill you," she snarled. "I don't care what laws you hide behind or what rights you think you have. They're mine."

"Ariana, let her go," I said, moving toward them.

"No." She didn't even look at me. "I'm done being civilized; I'm done pretending. You want a war, Isabella? You'll get one."

Vincent grabbed Ariana's arm. "Not here. Not like this."

She released Isabella, who gasped for air. But Ariana's eyes never left her. "Stay away from my family. Both of you."

"Our family," I corrected, finding my voice. "Those are my children too."

"You gave up that right six years ago."

"I didn't know I had children six years ago!"

"And whose fault is that?" She whirled on me. "You were so busy claiming your destined mate, so desperate to prove the bond was real, you didn't even notice I was falling apart. Didn't see myself getting sick every morning. Didn't care enough to ask why I looked terrified."

Had she looked terrified? I tried to remember that night, but all I could recall was Isabella's face, the overwhelming pull of the bond.

"I want to meet them," I said.

"Absolutely not."

"They're my children, Ariana. I have rights."

"Rights?" She laughed, wild and broken. "You have nothing. No rights, no claim, nothing. I'll disappear before I let you anywhere near them."

"You can't run from this."

"Watch me."

She turned to leave, but I caught her arm. The contact sent electricity through me, familiar and wrong all at once.

"Please," I said quietly. "Don't take them from me. Not when I just found out they exist."

"You should have thought about that before you destroyed everything we had." She pulled away. "I'm leaving. Don't follow me. Don't contact me. And if Isabella comes anywhere near my children, I'll make what just happened look gentle."

She walked away, Vincent trailing behind her.

I stood there, watching her disappear into the darkness, my mind reeling.

I had children. A son and daughter I had never met.

And I had just lost them before I even knew their names.

Isabella touched my arm. "Let her go. We'll handle this through proper channels. The courts will—"

I shook her off. "You hired an investigator behind my back."

"To protect us!"

"You planned this whole dinner to humiliate her. To force a confrontation."

"She deserved it after what she did."

"What did she do?" I turned on her. "She survived. After I threw her out pregnant and alone, she survived. Built a life, raised my children without any support."

"Our children, if we claim them properly—"

"Get out of my sight."

Isabella's eyes widened. "Asher—"

"Now."

She backed away, something like fear crossing her face. Good. She should be afraid.

I pulled out my phone and called Vincent.

"Make sure she gets home safely," I said when he answered. "And find out everything about my children. Names, schools, everything."

"Asher—"

"Everything, Vincent. I want to know who they are."

I hung up and stood in the empty garden, the weight of six years of mistakes crushing down on me.

I had children.

And I had no idea how to fix what I had broken.