CHAPTER 81: CHAPTER 81: YOU’RE MY HERO

IVAN’S POV

"Because sometimes," I whispered into his hair, "people say things that wound us deeper than even claws can. It hits us right here." I pressed a hand to his chest. "It’s deeper than any bruise, and it takes a little longer to heal. We want to be brave, we want to stand tall... but their words still hurt. And it’s okay. It’s okay that it hurts."

Asha nodded miserably, his tears hot on my skin.

"B-But I said sorry, Ivan. Mummy says sorry always fixes things. I said sorry when I spilled the cho-chocolate. But she didn’t accept it. She just said more mean things, and... she brought Mummy into it too. Mummy m-must also be crying right now."

I pressed a kiss to the top of his head, my jaw tight with rage.

"That woman was not a good person, Asha. Some people... they don’t want to forgive. They only want to hurt others because they’re miserable. And when people do that, it doesn’t mean what they say is true. It just means they’re villains."

"Villains?" he whispered.

"Yes," I said firmly. "Horrible monsters with invisible horns. The nastiest kind. The kind who piss on everyone else’s day just because they’re miserable with their own."

Asha blinked up at me. Then, through his tears, came a tiny giggle.

"You said piss."

I blinked, startled, before my lips twitched.

"I did, didn’t I? Uh-oh. Now you have to say something, or I’ll be embarrassed forever."

He sniffled, then grinned through his tears. "Poo. Villains like that maid poo on everyone because they’re made of poo."

A bark of laughter tore out of me, and I hugged him tighter.

"That... that’s surprisingly accurate."

He beamed faintly. "Now you don’t have to feel bad about saying piss."

Goddess, what did a bastard like me do to ever get this lucky?

But my chest twisted again when a memory clawed at me. I thought back to the moment he stormed off in his own little rage—his tiny voice, from earlier, echoing in my mind: Fuck you.

How the hell do I bring that up? What do I even say? How does a good parent bring that up when he’s in this state?

I bet Maeve would know what to do—down to what to say and how to scold him softly whilst holding on to her love and warmth in this moment.

I’ve never done this before—cautioning and correcting. The closest I’d ever come to that was yelling at the warriors during training. Fucking hell, Ivan.

I hesitated, unsure. But before I could decide, he looked up at me with those wide eyes.

"Ivan... what’s a bastard?"

The world stilled. My brain short-circuited, an alarm going off inside me—panic and rage all at once.

Rage that he ever had to learn that word, hear it repeatedly enough for it to stick. Panic because I was bad at this. Battles and strategies and fight positions I knew, but being a father...

"Well, it’s sort of like..." I faltered. "Um... well, I... I think a bastard is..."

"Is it when you’re a weirdo?" he asked, head ducking, his little shoulders dropping devastatedly. "The maids... they say it all the time. They’ve been calling me that and whispering it. A bastard. Am I... weird, Ivan?"

His eyes filled again, and that was it. My heart split in two.

"No," I growled, clutching him to me so fiercely he squeaked. "Never. Not at all. You are the most precious, extraordinary boy I’ve ever met. Don’t you ever believe otherwise."

"But... then why do they whisper it?"

I forced a smirk. "Because they can see how extraordinary you are. And people find that intimidating."

"What’s... in-timi...dating?"

"It means scary," I explained, my tone dipping into warmth. "But scary in a cool way."

His eyes lit up, finally. "Like you?"

I gasped, then laughed. "Maybe. But you’re cooler."

"I am," he agreed proudly.

The silence stretched between us, softer now, its warmth expanding like a breath into my lungs. My voice lowered as I leaned closer to him.

"But, buddy... you know you can’t use words like that."

Asha blinked up at me. "Like what?"

"The... F word. You told the maid ’fuck you.’"

His brows furrowed. "But... Mummy says it. Sometimes. When she’s angry."

I nearly groaned.

"Yes, well, there are things your Mummy does that are... grown-up things. Doesn’t mean they’re for you. Or right. Some words are just... nope-words. Words that don’t belong in your mouth. And that one’s part of them. In fact, the F word is the biggest nope-word."

He frowned thoughtfully.

"Nope-words." Then he nodded, solemn. "Okay. I’ll never say a nope-word again."

Then, suddenly, he threw his little arms around my neck. I froze, stunned, before I crushed him back into my chest.

"Thank you, Ivan," he whispered. "You’re such a good friend to me. I think... you’re my hero. I’m sorry I was mean when we met. I’d love if you could meet my daddy soon. He’s just as cool as you! We can all go fishing together too! With Mummy!"

My breath hitched. My heart twisted painfully in my chest, and I had to shut my eyes to ground myself amidst the slam of emotions that tore through me.

Every instinct screamed to demand answers about this supposed daddy—Maeve’s second-chance mate, no doubt.

My own son believed a fraud to be his father. Nothing came close to how much that killed me.

But I forced myself to breathe instead, and exhaled, burying my face in his hair.

"I’m sorry we didn’t meet sooner," I whispered back. "You’re more amazing than anyone I’ve ever known."

He giggled. "Don’t be silly. If we met sooner, I’d have been a little baby. We couldn’t go fishing or fly helicopters then."

I chuckled, though my chest ached. "True. Silly me."

Asha picked up his new toy, his little face lighting up.

"Thank you for this too. I can’t wait to show Mummy. Will you stay and play with me? Pleeease?"

My throat tightened. I wanted nothing more.

But the heaviness in my chest wouldn’t go away—it was like a hand gripped my heart in its excruciating hold and refused to let go.

More so, I had a maid to punish.

"I can’t. Not yet."

"Why?" His small eyes dimmed with disappointment.

"Because... I have to handle the bad woman."

He nodded, though his shoulders stayed drooped. I sighed, looking around the room then.

"Where’s Maeve? Or Nina?"

"Mummy went for her healing work," he said softly. "Nina went off to the market. The maid was supposed to babysit. But... I’m tired of being babysat. I miss home."

My chest squeezed. I crouched to his level again, brushing his hair back.

"Tell you what, Fish King. When I’m done with the bad woman, why don’t you come stay with me in my study for the rest of the day?"

His eyes widened. "Your royal Alpha study?"

"Yes."

Excitement lit him up like the sun.

"Yay! Yes, I would love to!"

I smiled faintly, ruffling his hair—my heart full with everything at once: regret, misery, joy, rage, guilt. Fear.

"I’ll be right back."

I made sure to entrust Asha to the careful eye of my trusted guard, who’d ensure no one else was granted entrance into that room, except Maeve and Nina for now.

Not until I handled the present plague of stupidity rotting my castle.

The throne room was a buzz-hive of murmurings as every last member of the Ash Creek mansion was gathered, eyes speculating and shifting from the maid’s crumpled form on the ground to mine.

Finally, when I stood before my people, my gaze trailed from face to face, meeting each eye with a grin that didn’t belong on a sane man’s face.

Maeve was missing in the crowd, but that didn’t go for my mother and Serena, who came in together. And from how Serena aided my mother with her steps, it seemed their relationship had only grown thicker.

That left a bad taste in my mouth, but I moved my attention from them—that was another day’s problem.

Lydia sat on the Luna’s designated seat, regal and severe, hawk-eyed as ever. Almost indistinguishable from her former self, save for the cough that wracked her fragile form from time to time.

Serena lounged to my right, smug as ever, sitting in the seat for nobles, her nails tapping against the arm of her chair. The rest—elders, guards, servants—fidgeted like cornered prey.

I spread my arms wide.

"Humor me," I said lightly, like a man inviting friends to dinner. "Any questions?"

Confusion pulled multiple brows together, eyes darting to each other, but the suffocating silence prevailed—fear over instinct.

"Come now," I chuckled. "Isn’t this what you’ve been whispering? Don’t be shy. Ask away. Am I a demon? Do I sneak into cribs at night and gnaw on children’s bones? Perhaps I devour the hearts of women?"

Nervous glances traded across the chamber, and it seemed the temperature only managed to drop further—no one dared to breathe too loud.

My grin sharpened. "Nothing? Disappointing. I expected you to be bolder. After all, in the last few days you have tirelessly slandered my name with lies and foolish rumors, yet in my presence you are mute. There will be no consequence here. Get it all out. Consider this a press conference."