Page 70 of The Alpha's Auctioned Pregnant Mate

But Wren's safety had to come first. He'd deal with the scum another day when Wren and their child were safe.

"Fine," he growled, the word feeling like ash in his mouth. "Name your price."

Cassius handled the financial details while Articus's mind raced. How was Wren? Had they hurt her? Did the slavers know about the baby?

The questions swirled in his head, threatening to drive him mad with worry. He tried to focus on her scent, trying to pick it up among the myriad odors of the warehouse, but there were too many conflicting smells.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Linus nodded in satisfaction. "Excellent," he said, rising from his chair. "I believe our business is concluded. Gentlemen, if you'll follow me?"

They were led through another series of corridors, these ones cleaner and better lit. The contrast was jarring, a reminder of the two-faced nature of this operation—respectable business on one side, unspeakable cruelty on the other.

Articus' heart raced as they approached a nondescript door. He could hear movement inside, the soft sound of breathing. Wren's scent, faint but unmistakable, reached him, and it took every ounce of his control not to break down the door.

The slaver knocked twice before opening it, revealing a sparsely furnished room. And there, curled up on a small cot, was Wren.

Articus' breath caught in his throat, relief and concern warring within him. She looked small and vulnerable, her face pale and drawn. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her clothes were rumpled and dirty. But as her eyes met his, he saw a spark of that fierce spirit he'd come to love.

"Articus?" she whispered, her voice hoarse, as if she hadn't used it in days.

In two long strides, he was at her side, gathering her into his arms. She clung to him, burying her face in his chest as silent sobs wracked her body. He could feel her trembling, could smell the lingering scent of fear and stress on her skin.

"Shh, it's okay," he murmured, stroking her hair, his touch gentle despite the rage still simmering inside him. "I've got you. You're safe now." He pressed his nose to the top of her head, inhaling deeply, letting her scent calm the frantic beating of his heart.

He turned to Linus, his eyes cold and promising retribution. "If I find out you've harmed her in any way..." The threat hung in the air, unfinished but unmistakable.

The man held up his hands, that infuriating smile still in place. "I assure you, Alpha, she hasn't been touched. We take pride in delivering our... merchandise in pristine condition."

He’s asking for it now.

Articus growled low in his throat at the word 'merchandise,' his arms tightening protectively around Wren. But her gentle touch on his arm calmed him, grounding him in the moment. "Let's just go," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Please."

He nodded, helping her to her feet. She swayed slightly, and he steadied her, concern flooding through him. They made their way out of the building, Articus keeping a protective arm around Wren, glaring at anyone who dared to look their way. He could feel her leaning heavily on him, exhaustion evident in every line of her body.

At the entrance, Linus extended his hand, that oily smile still in place. "A pleasure doing business with you, Alpha. I trust we won't be seeing each other again?"

Articus stared at the offered hand for a long moment, imagining all the ways he could make this man suffer. But Wren's soft breathing beside him reminded him of what was truly important.

Reluctantly, he shook the man's hand, his grip perhaps a bit tighter than necessary. "No," he said coldly, a promise and a threat wrapped into one word. "We won't."

They walked away, Articus unable to shake the feeling that this wasn't over. The slaver's world was a cancer on their society, one that needed to be cut out. But for now, all that mattered was getting Wren to safety.

They reached Cassius' car, and Articus helped Wren into the backseat before sliding in beside her. Cassius started the engine, the low rumble filling the tense silence. Articus pulled Wren close, inhaling her scent deeply, reassuring himself that she was really here, really safe.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his eyes roving over her, checking for any visible injuries. "Did they hurt you?"

Wren shook her head, though she winced slightly at the movement. "No, I'm fine," she murmured, her voice still raspy. "They... they didn't do anything to me. Just locked me up." She shuddered, and Articus tightened his hold on her.

Articus felt a wave of relief wash over him, followed quickly by a surge of guilt. This was his fault. If he had been honest with her from the beginning, if he hadn't let his pride and stubbornness get in the way...

I caused this.

"Wren, I'm so sorry," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't—"

She cut him off, placing a finger on his lips. The simple touch sent a jolt through him, a reminder of all they had almost lost. "Don't," she said softly, her eyes meeting his. "We both made mistakes. We need to talk, but... not now. Not here."

He nodded, understanding. There was so much they needed to discuss, so many misunderstandings to clear up. But right now, all that mattered was that she was safe, here in his arms, where she belonged.

They drove away from the warehouse, leaving the dark underbelly of the territories behind. The city lights blurred past the windows, a stark contrast to the darkness they had just escaped.

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