CHAPTER 219: HIS SISTER

Hailee’s POV

Peter raised an eyebrow, almost amused. "Who I am doesn’t concern you right now."

"Doesn’t concern us?" Nathan growled, stepping forward. "You walk in here unannounced and touch her like she belongs to you, and you expect us not to ask questions?"

Peter’s lips curved in a slight smirk. "You seem awfully possessive for someone who claims not to want her."

The silence that followed was explosive.

Nathan’s jaw tightened. Callum’s gaze flicked toward me again, something like hurt flickering in his eyes before he quickly masked it. Dane crossed his arms, his voice low but controlled. "Hailee," he said quietly, "who is this man to you?"

I opened my mouth to explain, but Peter placed a hand gently on my arm. "It’s alright," he said calmly. Then, turning his gaze to the three of them, he added with quiet confidence, "I can answer that."

Nathan scoffed. "Please do."

Peter gave a small, patient sigh. "I didn’t expect to introduce myself under such hostile circumstances," he said coolly, "but if it settles your nerves..."

He paused long enough for tension to coil tight in the room.

Then he smiled faintly and said, "I’m Lycan Peter Stones."

The air in the room instantly shifted—sharp, tense, electric.

Nathan froze, his eyes widening slightly before narrowing again as though he hadn’t heard correctly. Callum blinked once, twice, trying to process it. Dane, who was rarely caught off guard, actually took a step back.

"Peter... Stones?" Dane repeated slowly, disbelief thick in his voice. "As in the Peter Stones? The Lycan King of the Eastern Region?"

Peter nodded once, calm and unbothered, his tone steady. "Yes. That’s me."

You could’ve heard a pin drop.

The three Alphas—powerful men who rarely bowed to anyone—were staring at him like the ground beneath them had just shifted.

I could see the realization in their eyes—the understanding of exactly who stood before them. The Lycan King. The ruler above all the Lycans in the western region. The man who commanded whole regions with a single order.

Nathan’s jaw tightened. Callum looked between us, suspicion flickering in his gaze. Dane exhaled sharply, breaking the silence.

"Why are you here, Lycan King?" Nathan asked slowly, his tone cautious but edged with pride. "What business do you have with Hailee?"

Peter gave a faint smile, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. "That’s simple," he said quietly. "Hailee is my business."

He turned his head slightly, his gaze finding mine with warmth that made my chest ache. Then, facing them again, he said clearly, firmly, "This is Hailee Stones. My sister."

The room erupted in stunned silence.

The men froze again, all at once.

Nathan’s mouth parted slightly, though no words came out. Callum blinked, his composure faltering for a rare second. Dane’s brow furrowed deeply, disbelief written all over his usually stoic face.

Peter, however, remained unshaken. "Yes," he said evenly, answering the question none of them dared to speak aloud. "Hailee is a Lycan. Royal blood. A Stones."

My heart hammered in my chest. For years, that truth had been buried, hidden beneath lies and fear. Hearing it spoken aloud again after all this time felt like tearing open an old wound.

But Peter wasn’t finished. His tone softened slightly as he turned toward my boys. "And these," he said, stepping closer, his expression gentling, "must be my nephews."

The boys looked up at him, confused and uncertain.

Then Oscar’s expression changed. He frowned, his brows knitting together tightly as he studied Peter’s face—the sharp jawline, the dark hair, the familiar intensity in his eyes.

Then, suddenly, his small voice—quiet but cold—broke the silence.

"You?" he said slowly, glaring up at Peter. "You’re the man in the picture."

Peter blinked, confused. "What picture?"

Oscar turned sharply toward me, his eyes blazing with anger and betrayal. "Mother," he snapped, his voice trembling. "You told us that picture was of our father! The man who died! You said—"

My stomach dropped.

"Oscar, wait—" I started, my voice cracking.

But he didn’t stop.

"You lied!" he shouted, standing now, his little chest heaving with fury. "You said he was gone—that he died!"

His voice broke, and tears gathered in his eyes. "All this time... you lied to us!"

"Oscar!" I tried again, stepping closer, but he pulled away.

Callum stood tense, looking from me to Peter, realization dawning in his eyes. Nathan’s expression hardened, the old anger returning. Dane simply shook his head, silent but clearly disappointed.

Peter looked between us all, stunned for once. "Hailee," he said slowly, his tone cautious now. "What is he talking about?"

I swallowed hard, shame burning through me. "When they were little," I whispered, "they used to ask about their father. I didn’t know how to explain... I didn’t want them to know the truth. So I—"

"You showed them my picture?" Peter interrupted quietly, disbelief in his tone.

Tears welled up in my eyes again. "It was the only one I had," I said weakly. "I couldn’t tell them the truth. I didn’t want them to think they were unwanted or fatherless. I just wanted them to feel safe, to believe they came from love, not from chaos."

Oscar’s lip trembled, his eyes glistening with angry tears. "You lied, Mom," he whispered hoarsely. "You always said you’d never lie to us."

That shattered me.

"I’m sorry," I said, my voice breaking completely. "I was wrong. I should’ve told you everything, but I was scared. I just wanted to protect you."

"Protect us?" Oscar snapped, his small fists clenched. "By lying to us?"

Nathan stepped forward then, his tone sharp. "So that’s it, Hailee? You didn’t just hide them—you lied about who they were. About everything."

I turned to him, my tears falling freely. "Nathan, please—"

Peter’s voice cut through the noise, calm but edged with steel. "Enough."

The single word carried power. It silenced the room instantly.

He looked down at Oscar, his expression softening. "Hey," he said quietly, crouching to the boy’s level. "I didn’t know about any of this, alright? But I’m not your father—I’m your uncle. And I swear to you, your mother didn’t mean to hurt you. She was just trying to keep you safe."

Oscar looked up at him, tears spilling silently down his cheeks. "She lied," he whispered again, shaking his head.

Peter nodded slowly. "Yes," he said softly. "She did. But sometimes, parents lie when they’re scared. Not because they don’t love you—but because they love you too much."

Oscar’s eyes flickered with confusion and pain. He glanced toward me, his little chest rising and falling rapidly.

I took a trembling step closer, my voice breaking. "I’m sorry, my love. I’m so sorry. I was just trying to give you peace."

He didn’t answer. He just looked at me—hurt, betrayed, and too young to understand the weight of my choices.

Peter sighed deeply, his gaze moving to the Alphas, his tone once again commanding. "I think," he said quietly, "we all have a lot to discuss. But not here. Not in front of the boys. So please, let’s step outside."