Chapter2

This time, I didn't let anyone touch the parchment. The moment Dr. Sorcha, the pack doctor, peeled the results off the slate, I snatched it straight from her hands.

She didn't protest, merely tracing a rune into her leather-bound ledger. "The pup is perfectly healthy. Bloodline compatibility is normal," she said. "Congratulations."

Exactly what she had told me in my previous life.

I shoved the parchment deep into the hidden inside pocket of my leather jacket. Stepping out of the exam room, I found Kael leaning against the hallway doorframe, a tender smile playing on his lips.

"Got it?" he asked, straightening up.

"Yeah." I looped my arm through his, forcing my voice to remain steady. "Let's go."

He didn't move. His gaze dropped to my empty hands. "Where's the report?"

"In my bag," I beamed, keeping my tone light and breezy. "Dr. Sorcha said the pup is doing great. Don't you trust her?"

Kael looked down at me, his nostrils flaring slightly.

I bit down on the tip of my tongue hard enough to draw blood, using the sharp sting to suppress the scent of sheer panic threatening to leak from my pores. He stared at me for a few agonizing seconds before a low, vibrating rumble emanated from his chest.

"Alright," he finally said, wrapping a thick, muscular arm tightly around my waist. "Let's head home. I need to hit the training grounds later."

We walked out of the clinic side by side. The territory of the Shadowmoon Pack stretched out quietly under the morning sun.

When we reached our SUV, Kael pulled the passenger door open for me. His hand slid across my lower back—brushing right over my mate mark.

Pure instinct made me stiffen. I immediately slid into the seat, hugging my bag tightly against my thighs.

"What's wrong?" he asked, walking around to the driver's side.

"Nothing," I lied, staring blankly out the windshield. "Just a little cramp."

Ten minutes later.

"Kael," my voice trembled. "I need to use the restroom."

"Hold it. We're almost home."

"I can't. Stop the car. Right now." I curled my fingers white-knuckle tight around the door handle.

Kael pulled over onto the dirt shoulder near the pack's public restrooms. "Go. Make it quick."

I practically sprinted toward the wooden building. Once inside, I dumped the entire contents of my bag into the sink. Lipstick, tissues, and keys clattered loudly against the porcelain basin.

It's gone!

I frantically patted down my clothes, checking every pocket.

Nothing.

When did I lose it?

The memory hit me like a physical punch. Kael opening the car door. His hand deliberately brushing my lower back. He had slipped it right out of my pocket while my attention was entirely consumed by the distraction of his touch.

My legs turned to jelly. I slid down the tiled wall, collapsing onto the floor. I took a deep, shuddering breath, gathered my scattered things, and walked out of the restroom.

Kael was leaning against the hood of the SUV, staring intently at the strip of parchment in his hand. At the sound of my footsteps, his head snapped up. His golden pupils were blown wide with lethal violence.

"This pup won't survive," he snarled.

"Kael—"

He closed the distance between us in two massive strides. His huge hand clamped down hard on my arm. "Get in the car. We're doing a silver flush. Now."

While he dragged me forward, I threw my head back and let out a piercing, desperate howl.

"Somebody help me!"

At the end of the street, several werewolves froze. A mother wolf walking with her pup dropped her groceries on the dirt. Upon hearing the sacred, desperate distress call of a pregnant female, her protective maternal instincts instantly overpowered the oppressive aura of the Alpha.

Without hesitation, she threw herself between Kael and me, baring her fangs.

"Let her go!" the she-wolf roared fiercely.

Kael halted, though his grip never left my already bruising arm. He glared down menacingly at the she-wolf. "Back off. She's carrying a dead fetus."

"He's lying!" I screamed over his shoulder to the gathering crowd. "Dr. Sorcha just said the pup is perfectly healthy! He's trying to murder my baby!"

Protecting the unborn was the absolute baseline of werewolf law. Instantly, three more she-wolves stepped out from the crowd, forming a defensive semicircle around us. An elder leaning heavily on a silver-tipped cane hobbled forward, his eyes narrowed into slits.

"What is the meaning of this, Alpha?"

Without a ruling from the Council of Elders, Kael couldn't publicly slaughter a group of protective mothers—doing so would trigger an immediate pack-wide rebellion.

He let out a dark, mocking scoff.

Then, he released my arm. Without even sparing me a glance, he dialed a number on his phone.

"Alaric," he said.

My father.

My heart skipped a violent beat.

Kael's amber eyes locked onto mine dead center. "Get down to the public restrooms," Kael ordered into the receiver. "I saw the results. Yeah. Those results. She's throwing a fit. Come deal with your daughter."

He hung up and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"You think screaming to the pack is going to save you?" His deliberately lowered whisper was meant for my ears alone. "By the time they get here, you'll be on your knees begging me for the silver flush."

I remained slumped on the ground, keeping my head bowed.

In my past life, he had made this exact same phone call. What followed was Alaric's right hook, Morwen's ice-cold cruelty, and the paralyzing agony of liquid silver. Everything was playing out exactly as it had before.

But this time, I wasn't shivering.

Under the cover of my oversized jacket, my thumb slid across my phone screen, tapping the voice recorder app.

I still had no idea what that blood-red rune actually meant. But since they were about to rip off their masks of peace once again, I was going to record every word, every threat, and every piece of ironclad evidence of their betrayal.

At the end of the dirt road, a fresh cloud of dust kicked up.

Alaric's black SUV was coming.