Chapter 597 Ravyn, I think you should just die

The name hit him like a physical blow. Coco. Voren’s ex. Voren had introduced them exactly once, a brief exchange of pleasantries that had barely registered at the time. So how in hell had she gotten his number?

“I must say I’m surprised to hear from you.” He kept his voice measured, but his grip on the phone tightened. “I don’t think Voren gave you my number.”

A faint sigh drifted through the speaker before her response came, smooth and calculated. “How I got your number isn’t important. Voren must have told you about Marigold, right?”

Ravyn’s brow furrowed. He had no idea where this was heading, but he assumed Coco simply didn’t know that his friendship with Voren had curdled into something bitter and broken.

He missed Voren—God, he missed him with an ache that never quite faded but now, only regret filled the hollow spaces where his friend used to live.

He couldn’t call Voren evil. The man had laid his intentions bare from the very beginning, had never pretended to be anything other than what he was. And Ravyn had been too stupid, too blind, too wrapped up in his own petty ego to see the truth unfolding right in front of him.

The coldness that had descended between him and Seraphine the moment Voren reappeared in her life. He’d dismissed it as her being untrustworthy, fickle.

But now he understood. It was because a part of her memory had been erased, stolen away by magic he hadn’t even known existed. He’d lived in the same pack house as her, and he’d known nothing. Because he’d never bothered to care.

“Sadly, I’m no longer on good terms with Voren, so if you’re looking for me to—”

Coco’s voice sliced through before he could finish. “I know, Mr. Walker. I just want you to know that the girl isn’t my biological daughter. And she isn’t Voren’s child either.”

Ravyn’s chest tightened. He felt a pang of sympathy for Voren, assuming Coco wanted him to intervene on her behalf. Voren had paid her off, after all, and he loved that little girl with a ferocity that bordered on obsession. How would he feel to discover she wasn’t even his blood?

“I’m not in the position to put in a word—”

“You’re mistaken, Mr. Walker.” Her voice cut him off again, sharper this time. “What I want to say is, Seraphine is Marigold’s biological mother. So what does that make you?”

Ravyn’s heart stopped. The world tilted, and he grabbed the edge of the counter to keep from swaying. “No. That’s impossible. My daughter died.”

At least he knew Corvine had carried out the order. The memory of that day, the grim satisfaction, the relief, now curdled in his stomach like spoiled milk.

But Coco delivered the final blow with surgical precision. “Mr. Walker, I would have told you this before, but my mother told me just a while ago that you were Seraphine’s ex-husband. My mother used to be a good friend of Noelle.”

The line went dead.

Ravyn stood there, phone pressed to his ear, the dial tone buzzing in his skull like angry bees.

Then the pieces began to click together, one after another, each connection more horrifying than the last. Why would Seraphine like Corvine so much if he had actually carried out Ravyn’s order? Why would she love someone who’d murdered their child?

His fingers moved before his mind caught up, punching in Corvine’s number. It rang and rang, unanswered. His thumb found Voren’s contact next, and he hit dial with trembling fingers.

The moment the call connected, the words exploded out of him, raw and furious. “Voren, when did you intend to tell me that Marigold is mine?”

Silence stretched on the other end. He could almost hear the gears turning in Voren’s mind, the slow processing of the accusation.

Then Voren’s response came, sharp as broken glass. “Are you mad? Did you fall and hit your head or something?” A bitter laugh, cold and unforgiving escaped him at the end of the line. “Ravyn, I think you should just die.”

The venom in those words should have made him flinch, but he pressed on, his voice equally heated. “I want a DNA test on her.”

Life hadn’t mattered to him before. He’d been drifting, hollowed out, going through the motions of existence without any real purpose.

But knowing he had a child, a child carrying Seraphine’s blood, their blood, something inside him stirred back to life. He was ready to man up, to fight for what was his.

Voren scoffed, the sound dripping with contempt. “If you’re looking for your daughter, her ashes were buried under your pack house, fool.”

The words crashed into Ravyn like a freight train, knocking the air from his lungs. Ashes. Under the pack house.

It was a reminder of the order he’d given, the excitement he’d felt when he thought Corvine had followed through. He’d celebrated his daughter’s death. Literally, he’d rejoiced.

How was he supposed to face Marigold now?

His mind replayed every interaction he’d had with the little girl during his time at the Grimroot pack.

She’d always avoided him, even when he’d tried to be nice. He’d assumed she was just shy. But now, knowing she was his daughter, his heart bled at the memory of her flinching away from his outstretched hand.

Then again, Seraphine and Voren weren’t cruel. They wouldn’t tell a little girl that her biological father had wanted her dead. Right?

Maybe this was fate. Perhaps he and Seraphine were meant to be after all. With a child binding them together, he had renewed hope, a reason to pursue his ex-wife again, to prove he could be the man she deserved.

“Voren.” His voice cracked, the desperation bleeding through despite his efforts to contain it. “I am honestly grateful to you. You’re the man I can never be. You raised my child as yours, and even after knowing the truth, you still love her.” He swallowed hard, the words scraping his throat raw. “Please. I just want a part in my daughter’s life.”

He waited, hope flickering fragile in his chest. This would be a start. A way to rebuild, to earn back the trust he’d so carelessly thrown away.

But Voren’s response shattered him completely.