Page 34 of Coveted By the Alpha Pack

Amidst the chaos, I hear the distant sound of pops and tears, the telltale signs of Hunter’s suffering. Yet, in that moment, nothing matters except the need to protect my babies from his menace.

My paws dig into the soft earth, anchoring me in place as I adjust my grip, tearing and pulling with a ferocity born of desperation. The calls of my mates fade into the background, mere echoes against the roaring fury within me. Hunter must pay for what he did to me. My children must be safe.

A plaintive whine pierces through the haze of rage, drawing my attention like a beacon. It’s a cry—a baby’s cry. My baby’s cry. In that moment, the primal urges yield to the overwhelming instinct to protect.

Reluctantly, I release Hunter’s throat, turning towards the source of the cry with a snarl. My senses sharpen, honing in on the scent of my son, Deacon, mingled with the familiar aroma of my mate, Ethan.

“Darlin’, Deacon needs you. He’s hungry,” Ethan’s voice breaks through the haze, a lifeline in the darkness.

Still bristling with aggression, I stalk forward, head lowered and canines bared. I’m ready to defend my offspring at any cost. Ambrose’s voice cuts through the tension, a reminder of the precarious balance between humanity and the wild that rages within me. “Place Deacon on the ground. She’s almost lost to her wolf.” Ambrose’s words hang in the air, a stark reminder of the fragile line I walk between humanity and savagery.

I bury my nose in the bundle on the ground, inhaling deeply. The rich, earthy scent of my son soothes my wolf's instincts, calming the turmoil within me. With a contented sigh, I lay down beside him, curling protectively around his tiny form. Tenderly, I lick the crown of his head before gently pulling him closer between my paws. His laughter, like tinkling bells, fills the air as his small hands grip onto tufts of my fur.

Lost in the warmth of the moment, I lose track of time, the world around us fading into the background. But the voices of Nina and Ashina pierce through the tranquil haze, bringing me back to awareness. Slowly, I open my eyes, fully in control once more. My daughters nestle against my side, seeking comfort in the aftermath of chaos.

Behind them, Conrad, Barrett, and Lorcan approach, bearing a robe and shoes for me. With a heavy heart, I lift my head, surveying the scene before me. The forest lies in ruins, reminiscent of a battleground. Memories of past dangers flood my mind, sending shivers down my spine.

I lean down to sniff each of my children, reassuring myself of their safety before turning my attention to the surrounding area. My mates and allies form a protective circle around us, their faces tense with concern. But one crucial figure is missing—Hunter’s corpse.

Chunks of fur are scattered around, remnants of the fierce battle that unfolded. My gaze settles on Griffin, seeking answers in his steady gaze. “When we get home, I’ll tell you everything.” His words cut through the tension like a knife, promising clarity once we return home.

As Conrad drapes the robe over my back and our allies respectfully withdraw, a sense of foreboding settles over me. There are secrets lurking in the shadows, waiting to be unearthed. And when we return home, I know that the truth will finally be revealed.

Chapter 21

Lorcan

-High Hopes–Panic at the Disco-

Nicolai’s words send a shiver down my spine as he recounts the savage frenzy that overtook our mate. The image of Grace, usually gentle and composed, transformed into a ferocious beast, tearing at her ex with primal fury. He paints the gruesome picture in my mind.

I sense a disturbance in our bond, its usual steady hum now tinged with discord. With heightened sensitivity, I wait for the opportune moment to seek out Grace in the labyrinthine halls of Ethan’s house. Following the trail of her scent, I’m drawn to the soft bubbling of the whirlpool tub in her private suite.

Weeks of familiarizing myself with the layout of the house pays off as I approach the open doorway to her bathroom. A gentle knock precedes my entrance, my heart pounding with concern for Grace’s well-being.

“Come in, Lorcan,” her voice, usually so assured, now carries a fragile edge.

Entering cautiously, I find her submerged in the soothing waters, her demeanor far from its usual self-assuredness. My hand instinctively goes to my chest, feeling the tension in our bond like a physical weight.

“Are you okay?” I ask softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

A tinkling giggle escapes her lips, but it lacks the usual mirth. “By the looks of it, you already know the answer,” she replies, her tone subdued.

“Do you need to talk? Do you need healing?” I offer, extending my hands, the warmth of healing energy radiating from them.

Her response is a hesitant plea, laden with vulnerability. “Can you stay with me? I don’t want to be alone.”

Stepping closer, I accept her invitation, allowing her to share her perspective through our bond as I navigate the confines of the bathroom. I’m ready to offer whatever comfort she may need.

Sitting on the bench beside the mirror, I feel a sudden plunge into the void as Grace reclaims her vision. In the water, every subtle motion is amplified, as though I can almost see her graceful movements beneath the surface. I hold my breath, counting several heartbeats before I dare to speak.

“Is there something you need to talk about?” My voice carries a softness, an attempt to coax her into opening up. I tilt my head slightly, offering her a small, reassuring smile.

Grace’s sigh reverberates in the bathroom, drowning out all other sounds except for the thunderous pounding of her heartbeat. “Am I evil?” Her words emerge barely above a whisper. Yet the turmoil within her chest roars louder than any spoken voice.

“Evil is a matter of perspective,” I reply carefully, my heartbeat quickening in anticipation. “Is killing wrong? Yes, in most cases. Your ex nearly took your life attempting to force a mating bond and change you.”

“How do you know?” Grace’s voice trembles with uncertainty. The movement of the water betraying her shifting position in the tub.

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