Chapter 336

Serena’s POV

The sterile white walls of the hospital room felt like they were closing in on me. Rancy’s fever had finally broken, but her flushed cheeks and matted hair were painful reminders of our terrifying morning.

I brushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead, my heart aching. Two years old and already so brave. The doctors said she’d be fine—just a severe viral infection—but those hours when her temperature soared to 104 felt like the longest of my life.

"Mama," Rancy’s small voice cracked, her eyes fluttering open. "Vivi? See Vivi?"

My heart sank. Vivian Blackwood. Of course that would be her first coherent thought after hours of feverish sleep.

"Honey, Vivian can’t come to the hospital. You need to rest and get better first," I explained gently, offering her the sippy cup of water the nurse had left.

Rancy’s bottom lip trembled dangerously. "But promised! See pitchers!"

I sighed, remembering their playground conversation that I’d overheard yesterday. Vivian had apparently invited Rancy over this weekend to see "mama’s pretty pictures." The invitation had made Rancy ecstatic all day.

"Vivi waiting," Rancy whimpered, tears welling in her eyes. "Vivi sad no Rancy."

"Sweetheart, Vivian will understand—"

"Want Vivi!" The tears broke free, streaming down her already flushed face. "Call Vivi! Pease, Mama!"

Any parent knows that sound—the desperate plea that cuts straight through logical reasoning and parental resolve. My daughter was sick, scared, and wanting the comfort of her best friend. How could I deny her that?

With a resigned sigh, I pulled out my phone and called Maya. If anyone could arrange a brief call between the girls, it would be her.

"Mrs.Lancaster? How’s Rancy doing?" Maya answered immediately, concern evident in her voice.

"The fever’s down, thank God. But she’s crying for Vivian," I explained, lowering my voice. "Is there any chance they could talk on the phone for just a minute? She’s convinced Vivian is waiting for her."

An uncomfortable silence followed. "Maya?"

"That’s... complicated right now," Maya finally said. "Vivian is with her father tonight."

Ryan Blackwood. The name alone made my stomach clench. Our only previous interaction had been a disastrous phone call about a business meeting.

"I see," I replied, trying to keep the disappointment from my voice.

"Mama! Vivi!" Rancy was becoming more agitated, her little arms reaching toward my phone.

I stared at the number on my screen while Rancy continued her tearful pleas. The memory of Ryan Blackwood’s dismissive tone during our brief business call made my finger hover uncertainly over the dial button.

"Vivi sad no Rancy," my daughter hiccupped between sobs.

With a deep breath, I hit dial.

The phone rang three times before a deep voice answered. "Blackwood."

That voice. Rich and resonant like aged whiskey, with an underlying note of authority that made my wolf stir unexpectedly. Something about it felt strangely familiar, beyond our brief previous interaction.

"Mr. Blackwood, this is Serena Lancaster," I began formally, pushing away the unsettling reaction. "I apologize for calling so late, but—"

"Mrs.Lancaster." His tone sharpened instantly. "What business matter is so urgent it couldn’t wait until morning?"

I swallowed my pride. "This isn’t about business. My daughter Rancy is in the hospital with a high fever, and she’s very upset about missing her playdate with Vivian this weekend. She’s been asking to speak with her. I was hoping—"

There was a long pause, during which I could hear what sounded like a heated whispered conversation in the background.

Finally, his voice returned, slightly softer. "Is your daughter alright?"

The genuine concern caught me off guard. "She will be. The fever’s down, but she’s still quite upset."

Another pause. I heard what sounded like a child’s voice pleading in the background.

"One minute," he finally said. "They can talk for one minute."

Relief washed over me. "Thank you. That’s very kind."

"It’s not kindness," he corrected me quickly. "Vivian has been inconsolable since hearing about your daughter’s condition."

I heard rustling, then a small, excited voice came on the line. "Hello? Is Rancy there?"

I quickly held the phone to Rancy’s ear. "Vivi?" my daughter asked, her tears immediately subsiding.

"Rancy! Are you okay? Daddy said you’re in the hop-si-tal!" Vivian’s concern was palpable even through the phone.

"Sick," Rancy confirmed in her limited vocabulary. "No come see pitchers."

"It’s okay! When you’re all better, you can still come see Mommy’s pictures! I asked Daddy and he said maybe!"

"P’omise?" Rancy asked, her little face lighting up.

"Promise! And I’ll save you the pink cupcake at Mia’s birthday tomorrow!"

As the girls continued their disjointed but heartfelt conversation, I couldn’t help but smile. Children’s friendships were so pure, so uncomplicated by the baggage adults carried.

My smile faded as Rancy’s face crumpled again. "Miss you, Vivi," she whimpered, tears returning. "Want hug now."

"I miss you too! Daddy, can we go see Rancy at the hop-si-tal? Please?" I heard Vivian beg in the background.

This was getting out of hand. Gently, I took the phone back from Rancy, mouthing "just a minute" to her.

"Mr. Blackwood? I think we should wrap this up. Rancy needs her rest, and I’ve already imposed enough on your evening."

"Agreed." His voice had returned to its businesslike tone, but something had shifted. It was less cold, more... contemplative.

"Thank you for allowing this call. It means a lot to Rancy."

"Vivian was equally desperate to speak with her." He paused. "I wasn’t aware they were so close."

"Children form bonds quickly," I offered. "Especially when they’re as open-hearted as these two seem to be."

Another pause. "Your daughter’s name—Rancy—it’s unusual."

I smiled despite myself. "She couldn’t pronounce ’Frances’ when she was learning to talk. It stuck."

To my shock, I heard what might have been a chuckle on the other end. "Children have their own logic. Vivian insists on calling me ’Alpha’ sometimes instead of Daddy, because of some story about wolves her grandmother told her."

"Well, thank you again," I said, suddenly uncomfortable with how normal this conversation felt. "I hope Vivian sleeps better knowing Rancy is recovering."

"Mrs. Lancaster?" His voice stopped me just before I could end the call.

"Yes?"

"I hope your daughter feels better soon."

The simple kindness in those words left me momentarily speechless. "Thank you," I managed before hanging up.

I turned to comfort Rancy, only to freeze at the sight of Cedric standing in the doorway, his face a mask of controlled fury.

"Who was that?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

"Cedric! You startled me." I moved to kiss his cheek, but he remained rigid. "That was Vivian Blackwood’s father. The girls are friends from preschool, and Rancy was upset about missing their playdate."

"Blackwood?" Cedric’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "As in Ryan Blackwood?"

I nodded, confused by his intense reaction. "Yes. Is something wrong?"

"You’re letting our daughter associate with a Blackwood?" Each word was carefully measured, his accent becoming more pronounced as it always did when he was angry.

"They’re just children playing together, Cedric. It’s innocent."

Cedric glanced at Rancy, his expression softening slightly before hardening once more as he looked back at me.

"I’ll be arranging her transfer to Lancaster Academy first thing Monday morning."

My jaw dropped. "What? You can’t just—"

"It’s done," he cut me off. "My daughter will not be friends with a Blackwood. "

As he stormed out, I was left wondering what vendetta Cedric Lancaster could possibly have against the Blackwoods.