Chapter 4

Kyle's expression instantly turned vicious.

The face that was usually gentle and caring toward me now twisted like a demon's.

Of course, he knew I was telling the truth.

Everything he had now—the luxury cars, the expensive watches, his Alpha status—all came from the Lycan Royal Family.

As long as I was alive, he would forever be nothing more than a dependent vassal of the Lycan Royal Family.

He crouched down, pretending to check my injuries, but his lips pressed against my ear as he whispered coldly, "Elena, what do you think I've been doing these past few days?"

"I've already transferred all the tribe's assets. Today is the perfect day to settle things with you once and for all."

With that, he suddenly stood up and shook off my hand that was clutching his pant leg with disgust.

I lost my balance from his movement, and my abdomen slammed hard into the corner of the armrest on the bench behind me.

A muffled groan escaped from my throat.

I felt something break inside my belly.

That little life that had been with me for five months stopped struggling at that moment.

Warm liquid instantly gushed out, staining the ground beneath me red.

I reached down with trembling hands to press on my stomach, blood filling the spaces between my fingers.

My wolf instinct let out a desperate howl—the grief of a mother losing her cub.

"Baby, mommy is so sorry."

Kyle watched coldly, scraping the blood off the bottom of his shoe on the ground with disgust.

"Enforcers! Drag her to the wasteland behind the mountain and bury her!"

"Don't let her die here—bad luck!"

Two enforcers walked over with nasty grins, each grabbing one of my legs.

My body was dragged across the rough ground like a discarded doll, leaving a long trail of blood.

Just as the enforcers were about to throw me onto the filthy truck, a deafening roar of engines tore through the sky.

More than a dozen black heavy-duty SUVs burst through the roadside barriers like wild beasts and charged straight in.

The car doors opened in perfect unison.

Dozens of fully armed royal guards poured out like a tide, instantly blocking off the entire street.

The emblem on their chests was the golden wolf head totem representing the highest authority.

From the lead armored extended vehicle, a man in a black trench coat stepped out.

It was my father, Lycan King Marcus.

He looked at me, covered in blood and barely alive, then surveyed the surroundings and let out a furious roar, "Who hurt my daughter!"