Chapter 98: Chapter 98 Sawyers Secret Kiss

Parker’s POV

Watching them together twisted something deep in my chest, a pain sharper than anything I had experienced before.

The way Bella spoke to Vance, so soft and deferential, transported me back to the woman I had known years earlier. Back then, she had looked at me with that same gentle expression, before everything fell apart.

She never challenged him or shot him those fierce, cutting looks that had become her signature when dealing with me and everyone else in the pack. With Vance, she was docile, almost fragile.

Of course she treated him differently. He was her husband, the man who had supposedly saved her in the human world when she fled from me.

While I remained the alpha who had shattered her trust and driven her away with my betrayal.

The contrast was unbearable. Even during the mundane process of signing her pack membership documents, I caught myself fixated on how Vance held her left hand possessively.

He sat in that chair as if he had every right to be there. Any other human would have been escorted back to their world by now, but I could not risk Bella’s wrath by removing him.

There was one consolation that kept me sane. Once we discovered a cure for the children’s sickness, her husband would be forced to return to the human realm.

Only limited visits would be permitted each year.

I seriously doubted their marriage could withstand such separation. I found myself counting down the days until that moment arrived.

The admission made me feel ruthless, but I refused to apologize for wanting Bella away from this man.

Tonight, however, they would share a bed, and the knowledge felt like claws raking against my soul.

My children would sit at his dinner table. My daughter would look up at him and call him father.

I stalked around my guest house room like a caged animal. Bella’s mansion sat directly across the narrow path, close enough that I could see into several windows. The area was deliberately isolated, with few other homes nearby.

At moments like this, I cursed myself for not owning surveillance equipment. The urge to watch them consumed me.

My phone erupted with its familiar ring tone. Moon again, for what felt like the hundredth time today.

Her text message appeared immediately after.

Children’s mother: Your parents insist you talk to me.

The words carried an unmistakable threat. She had dragged my parents into this mess.

Exhausted, I answered the call.

"What do you want, Moon? When I ignore your calls, it means I do not want to speak," I said flatly.

"This is not Moon. This is your mother," came the sharp reply from the other end, making me close my eyes in frustration.

"And what exactly is happening here? Why are you refusing to speak to Moon? She is the mother of your children. Have you forgotten your duties since that woman returned?" My mother had never mastered the art of subtlety.

She could launch into profanity-laced tirades that would mortify me in any public setting, anywhere, anytime.

My father shared the same tendency. After they finished berating me, they would inevitably turn on each other.

"Mother, she holds a position of respect in our community now. Remember that she is the one working to save the children," I reminded her carefully.

She made a dismissive sound.

"Well, perhaps you are the one forgetting that your own children are battling this disease and they need their father present."

Those words struck me like a physical blow.

She spoke the truth. My children were fighting the same mysterious illness affecting all the pack’s young ones.

I had not abandoned them. Whenever they suffered, I made contact.

But she was right about one thing—being physically present and making phone calls afterward were completely different forms of support.

"Why will you not send them here? I have repeatedly asked Moon to pack their belongings and bring them to me. They would receive excellent care," I said, my frustration bleeding through.

The idea had been circulating in my mind for weeks. Having the children close would allow me to be the father they deserved.

"You know we have no objection to sending them to you. The issue is that I do not trust nannies completely. A hired caregiver’s affection can never substitute for a mother’s love, and your insistence that they arrive with a nanny instead of their mother is appalling. How can you decide that a mother should be separated from her children simply because you refuse to be around her?" my mother demanded, her voice rising to near-shouting levels.

I had anticipated this reaction. She always escalated to screaming and hurling accusations.

Her words did not wound me personally. I had developed the ability to let her rants pass through me without taking root.

The real problem arose when she unleashed these verbal attacks in front of my children.

My two daughters did not deserve to witness such scenes.

"Fine. Send her along, but make it clear that she should not pretend we share a happy marriage. If she wants to come for the children’s sake, then caring for them will be her sole focus, without making demands on my time," I told my mother, reminding her that I had never chosen Moon as my wife.

I had offered Moon the option to live in the mansion, maintain her independence, and co-parent effectively.

She could even pursue other relationships if she wanted. But she had presented one non-negotiable condition.

To keep the children, I had to marry her.

Then came the relentless pressure from my parents and the entire extended family.

"That is between you two. Handle your own problems. All I care about is ensuring you do not disrespect my daughter-in-law in front of that woman," my mother snapped before ending the call abruptly.

She had never grasped the concept of mutual respect.

I knew Moon would arrive with the kids soon.

Perhaps this development would not be entirely negative. Maybe witnessing me with Moon would trigger some reaction in Bella.

"Right now, she believes we are too readily available," my wolf suggested, presenting the idea of making Bella notice us through calculated distance.

"You realize she is not the same jealous teenager anymore, correct? If anything, she will remain completely indifferent," I countered.

Those manipulative tactics of inspiring jealousy had lost their effectiveness years ago.

After silencing my wolf’s protests, I glanced toward the window and spotted two silhouettes in the mansion across the way.

I squinted, observing a man leaning down to kiss a woman intimately.

My jaw clenched instantly. Then my attention shifted to the path below, where I spotted Bella walking toward her home.

Wait—if Bella was outside, who was Vance kissing?

A surge of dark satisfaction mixed with shock coursed through me.

Vance was cheating on her.