Page 39 of The Alpha's Auctioned Pregnant Mate

“I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice small and vulnerable. “I’m so scared that I’ll never be free again. That I’ll never be... me again.”

Articus’s expression softened, and he pulled her into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around her as if to shield her from the world.

“You will be,” he murmured against her hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Wren. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Wren closed her eyes, leaning into his embrace, letting herself be held for the first time in what felt like forever. She could feel the steady beat of his heart against her cheek, the warmth of his body seeping into her, grounding her in the present moment.

For the first time in days, she allowed herself to hope. It was a fragile thing, like a delicate flame flickering in the wind, but it was there. And for now, that was enough.

As the silence stretched between them, Wren felt a sense of calm settle over her. The storm inside her had not disappeared, but it had quieted, at least for the moment. Andin the arms of the man who had saved her, she found a small measure of peace.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest.

Articus didn’t respond with words. Instead, he simply held her tighter, as if to reassure her that he was there, that he wasn’t going to let go. And in that moment, Wren allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as alone as she had thought.

After a while, Articus stood, smoothing down his rumpled shirt. "You've been through a lot. You should rest now," he said. "But I'll be around if you need anything. Please, eat and rest. We can talk more later if you'd like."

Missing his warmth, Wren nodded, not trusting her voice. She heard him stand, felt the shift of the mattress as his weight left it. As Articus reached the door, she found herself speaking. "Articus?"

He turned, hand on the doorknob, eyebrows raised in question.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For the tea, the hug. And... for trying."

A small, genuine smile touched his lips. "You're welcome, Wren. Always."

As the door closed behind him, Wren sank back against the pillows, utterly drained. She was still trapped, still bound by magic she didn't understand. But for the first time since this nightmare began, hope flickered in her chest.

With the lingering warmth of his hug and the scent of his cologne in the air, Wren let herself hope.. and more.

I can't be falling for him, am I?

The darkness of sleep claimed her before she could dwell on that scary possibility.

Chapter 14 - Articus

The forest was alive with the sounds of early morning as Articus weaved between the trees, his feet pounding a steady rhythm on the damp earth.

Dawn was just breaking, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold that filtered through the canopy above. He had always found solace in these quiet moments, when the world was still waking up, and his thoughts could roam as freely as his legs.

Today, however, his mind kept circling back to one thing.

Wren.

As he rounded a bend in the trail, Articus decided to let his wolf take over. In a fluid motion born of years of practice, he shifted forms. Fur sprouted across his body, his spine elongated, and suddenly, he was racing through the underbrush on four paws instead of two feet.

His senses sharpened, the forest coming alive in new ways—the musty scent of decaying leaves, the chattering of squirrels high in the branches, the distant gurgle of a stream.

But even in this form, he couldn't escape his thoughts. Wren's vulnerability the night before, her tears, the softness of her lips against his—it was all etched into his memory.

Guilt gnawed at him as he leaped over a fallen log. He shouldn't have kissed her, not when she was in such a fragile state. But the way she had looked at him, her hazel eyes swimming with a mixture of pain and longing, had broken down all his defenses.

He slowed to a trot, panting slightly as he neared the edge of the forest. The trees thinned out, revealing the neat houses and well-kept lawns of the White Moon pack lands.

With a shake of his fur, Articus shifted back to human form, his clothes reappearing as if by magic—one of the perks of being a born werewolf.

As he walked the last stretch back to his house, an idea took shape. He would show Wren around White Moon and give her a taste of life on this side of the mountain.

Maybe it would help bridge the gap between them, erase some of her preconceptions about pack life. And selfishly, he hoped it might soften her toward him as well.

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