I sat on my apartment floor, staring at the sealed envelope in my hands. The royal court's seal glared back at me, red wax stamped with the crescent moon and crown. My fingers trembled as I traced the embossed symbol.
Earlier that evening, a bailiff had knocked on my door. The moment I saw his official uniform, I knew Jack had made good on his threat. The envelope felt heavy, heavier than paper should feel. I had signed for it with shaking hands, watching the bailiff disappear down the hallway before I closed the door and slid down against it.
Now, sitting here in the dim light of my living room, I could not bring myself to open it. I knew what it contained. Jack had promised me this much when he took Cody away.
My phone buzzed. A text from Nonna asking if I was okay. I did not respond. How could I explain that the Alpha King of the Northern Territory had just served me legal papers? That the father of my son was using his power to crush me?
I finally tore open the envelope. The official letterhead of the Supreme Wolf Court stared back at me. My eyes scanned the formal language, each word a dagger.
"Restraining Order issued against Aurora Bluey. The defendant is hereby ordered to maintain a distance of no less than five hundred yards from Jack Hudson, Alpha King of the Northern Territory, and his son, Cody Hudson."
Cody Hudson. They had changed his name. My son, the boy I had carried for nine months, the child I had raised alone for five years, now bore the Hudson surname. As if I had never existed. As if those five years meant nothing.
The order continued. Twenty years. The restraining order would last for twenty years unless the plaintiff chose to renew it. If I violated it even once, if I came anywhere near Jack's palace, his office, or deliberately sought out my son, the order would become permanent. Forever.
I would lose Cody forever.
My throat tightened, but no tears came. I had cried so much over the past days that my body seemed to have run dry. All that remained was this hollow ache in my chest, this emptiness that threatened to swallow me whole.
The document outlined specific terms. I could not attend any royal functions where Jack might be present. I could not enter the royal district. I could not contact Cody through any means, written or electronic. I could not send gifts, letters, or messages through third parties.
They were erasing me from my son's life.
I thought back to the dinner that must have happened at the Hudson estate tonight. I had heard through pack gossip that Jack's parents were introducing him to Tayo Dante, daughter of a powerful Alpha from the Eastern Territory. A political match. An advantageous alliance between two strong packs.
I imagined Jack sitting there, enduring his parents' matchmaking attempts. Had he told them about Cody? Had he announced to his family and their guests that he had found his son? That he planned to claim both the child and the mother?
The cruel irony was not lost on me. While Jack was perhaps declaring his intentions to marry me in front of his family, he was simultaneously having me served with legal papers that would keep me away from our son for two decades.
My phone rang. Nonna. I let it go to voicemail. Then Richard called. I ignored that too. I could not face my friends right now. They would want to help, to strategize, to fight back. But how did you fight an Alpha King? How did you challenge someone who controlled the courts, the laws, the very fabric of pack society?
I read the document again, searching for any loophole, any clause that might give me hope. There was a section about appeals. I could request a court hearing. I could challenge the order. But the document made it clear that any challenge would be heard before the Supreme Wolf Court, a body appointed by and loyal to the Alpha families.
I had no chance.
The restraining order had been issued by Judge Crawford himself, the head of the Supreme Wolf Court and a longtime ally of the Hudson family. The signature at the bottom was bold and confident, sealing my fate with a flourish of ink.
I thought about Cody. Was he sleeping right now in some luxurious room in the palace? Was Jack reading him a bedtime story as he had mentioned wanting to do? Did my son ask about me? Did he wonder where his mama had gone?
The pizza I had attempted to eat earlier sat cold and congealed on the coffee table. I had barely eaten since Jack had taken Cody two days ago. Food tasted like ash. Sleep was impossible. All I could do was exist in this limbo of grief and rage.
A knock on the door made me jump. I shoved the papers back into the envelope and stood up, my legs unsteady. Through the peephole, I saw Nonna and Richard standing in the hallway. They looked worried.
I opened the door. Nonna took one look at my face and stepped inside, pulling me into a hug. I stood there stiffly, unable to return the embrace.
"We heard," Richard said quietly, closing the door behind them. "About the restraining order. Pack gossip travels fast."
"How?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
"The bailiff talked," Nonna said, pulling back to look at me. "Ari, we are going to fight this. We will find a lawyer. We will challenge it."
I handed her the envelope. She read through it, her expression darkening with each line. Richard read over her shoulder, his jaw clenching.
"This is insane," Nonna breathed. "He cannot just take your child and ban you from seeing him."
"He is the Alpha King," I said flatly. "He can do whatever he wants."
"There has to be something we can do," Richard insisted.
I looked at them both, these friends who wanted so desperately to help me. But I could see the truth in their eyes too. They knew as well as I did that fighting Jack Hudson was like fighting the ocean. You might rage against the tide, but eventually, it would pull you under.
The restraining order sat between us, a physical manifestation of Jack's power over me. Twenty years. Or forever, if I made one wrong move.
My son's name echoed in my head. Cody Hudson. Not Cody Bluey. They had already begun rewriting history, erasing my existence from his life.
The question was not whether I could fight this. The question was whether I even had the strength left to try.
Nonna folded the papers carefully and placed them on the table. "We need a plan," she said.
But as I looked at the restraining order, at the royal seal, at Judge Crawford's signature, I wondered if any plan would be enough against an Alpha King who had already decided my fate.