Page 65 of The Alpha's Auctioned Pregnant Mate

"Edward," he began, his voice cold and authoritative, "there’s a strong possibility the slavers have taken Wren again. I’m heading to Cassius’s side of the mountain to follow that lead."

Edward’s eyes widened slightly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. But Articus wasn’t finished.

"Even so," he continued, "have a search party to comb through every inch of our side of the territory. Focus on the woods, any trails, or places she might have gotten lost if she ran without a clear direction. Check with anyone who may have seen something out of the ordinary. I don’t believe she’s just lost, but we can’t afford to overlook any possibility."

Edward straightened even further, a determined look settling on his features. "Understood, Sir. I’ll coordinate with the patrol teams immediately."

Articus gave a curt nod. "Good. If there’s even the slightest sign of her nearby, I want to know immediately. But if there’s nothing—no scent, no trace—then we focus on the slavers. But I want every lead followed."

Edward met his gaze squarely. "We won’t rest until she’s found, Sir."

With that reassurance, Articus turned on his heel, heading toward the door. He didn’t believe Wren was simply lost in the woods. The logical part of him knew she’d likely been taken, but he wouldn’t leave anything to chance. Wren’s safety and that of their child demanded thoroughness.

As he strode out to his car, Articus felt a cold fury settling over him. It wasn't the hot rage of his wolf but something colder, more calculated. He would play by the rules of the Dark Side, for now. But if anyone had hurt Wren or their unborn child, there would be no place on earth they could hide from his wrath.

Hold on, Wren.

Steeling himself, Articus climbed into his car, the engine roaring to life. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on the what-ifs or the fears gnawing at him. There was no room for doubt—only action.

I'm coming for you. And this time, I'm not letting you go.

One thing was certain—Articus would move heaven and earth to bring Wren home. And when he did, he would make sure she never doubted his love again.

As the mansion faded in his rearview mirror, Articus felt extraordinary focus on the task at hand. The road ahead stretched out before him, a path fraught with danger and uncertainty. But Articus was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. For Wren, for their child, for the future he now realized he desperately wanted, he would move mountains if he had to.

As he sped toward the helipad, Articus's mind raced with plans and strategies. He would use every connection, call in every favor, and unleash the full might of his influence to find Wren. And when he did, he would make damn sure she understood just how much she meant to him.

If the slavers had taken Wren once more, he was ready to unleash hell if it came to that, but he also knew when to hold back, to play the long game. However, if a hair on her head was harmed or if anything happened to his child.

Damn the consequences, damn the potential of war, and damn my position.

Articus pressed down on the accelerator. A cold fury settled over him, mingled with a grim determination. The hunt was on, and he would not rest until Wren was safe in his arms once more.

A storm was coming, and Articus was at its center.

Chapter 21 - Wren

Ow!

Consciousness returned to Wren in a slow, painful wave. Her head throbbed, each pulse sending a fresh jolt of agony through her temples. For a moment, she couldn’t tell up from down, lost in a haze.

She tried to open her eyes, but the world swam around her, refusing to come into focus. The acrid smell of the damp bed assaulted her nostrils, making her stomach churn.

Where am I?

Panic clawed at her throat as memories of her capture flooded back. The vampires, the rough hands grabbing her, the darkness closing in. She blinked rapidly, willing her vision to clear. Gradually, shapes began to form in the dim light—stone walls, a dirt floor, and rusted metal bars.

A cell. I'm in a cell. Again

Wren's heart raced, pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. She tried to move, but her limbs felt heavy and uncooperative. She felt cold metal on her wrists, and she realized with a jolt of fear that she was chained to the wall.

Not as tight as last time.

She swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to scream. Her mouth was dry, her tongue feeling like sandpaper. How long had she been unconscious? Hours? Days? The uncertainty only added to her mounting terror.

Stay calm. Think. You need to think.

But coherent thought was difficult when every fiber of her being screamed for her to run, to escape. The chains rattledas she shifted, the sound echoing ominously in the small space. Wren closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to steady herself. She needed to assess her situation, to find a way out.

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