Page 89 of Knot Your Baby

The room explodes into motion. Thorne’s growl reverberates off the walls as he physically blocks the officer’s path.

“She’s my mate,” Thorne declares, his voice dropping to that alpha register that makes the air itself vibrate. “That child is mine and touch either of them, and pack law supersedes whatever bureaucratic bullshit you’re peddling.”

I clutch my baby tighter as he whimpers against me, sensing the tension filling the room. My heart pounds against my ribs as I watch my alphas squaring off against government officials.

“Statute one zero two clearly states—” Director Madson begins.

“Fuck your statute.” Thorne’s eyes never leave the officer still eyeing my child. “She’s mine. He’s mine. Our pack claims them both under ancient pack rites.”

The second officer reaches inside his jacket, and Zane moves with shocking speed, catching his wrist. “I wouldn’t.”

The bassinet crashes to the floor as bodies lunge and collide. My baby wails against my chest, and I curl around him protectively, my back pressed against the wall. Monitors scream warnings as they’re yanked from walls. Someone shouts for security.

“Stop!” I clutch Stone tighter to my chest as Miller’s authoritative voice cuts through the tension.

“Under Section forty-five of the Omega Protection Act, you cannot remove a child without concrete evidence of violation.Furthermore, DNA testing would prove paternity, and Ms. Rose has claimed consistently that Thorne Stone is the father.”

Director Madson’s lips twist. “We have evidence.” She slides a document across my bed. “This is your signature from the wellness center check-in.”

I lean forward, careful not to jostle Stone, and examine the paper. The signature loops and curves in an unfamiliar pattern. “That’s not my handwriting.”

“Ms. Rose, lying to the DRA—”

“She’s telling the truth.” Miller’s voice carries a certainty that makes everyone turn. “I can prove it.”

The Director raises an eyebrow. “How?”

“Because I was the attending physician when Stone was one week old. At birth, standard protocol includes blood typing and genetic markers.” Miller pulls out his phone, tapping rapidly. It takes a while for the data to come back. Miller turns to the screen to Director Madson. “And it shows Freya’s signature. It also shows the baby’s blood type and genetic markers align perfectly with both Freya Rose and Thorne Stone.”

My heart skips. I hadn’t known Miller had done that. Did he suspect something?

“Furthermore,” he continues, “those results were automatically uploaded to the hospital database. They’re time-stamped and cannot be altered.” He turns his phone to show the Director. “As you can see, these tests were done weeks before any investigation began.”

The Director’s face pales as she studies the screen. Her perfectly maintained composure cracks just slightly.

“So,” Miller says, his voice carrying an edge I’ve never heard before. “Either someone forged Ms. Rose’s signature at the wellness center, or there’s been a serious breach in your verification processes. Which would you like to investigate first?”

Tears roll down my cheeks as I smile at Miller. Zane wraps an arm around my shoulders, and Thorne turns and cups my face in his big hands and for one electric moment we just stare.

“You’re ours to protect,” he says.

And for the first time, I believe him.

Chapter 26

Miller

Hospital corridors weren’t builtfor pissed-off alphas. The narrow hallway outside Freya’s room feels like a pressure cooker about to explode as testosterone mixes with adrenaline and heightened scents that hang thick in the air.

Zane leans against the wall, watching Thorne pace like a caged predator while I make a call to our pack lawyers because as much as security escorted those DRA assholes out. They warned they would be back.

Every instinct I have is still on high alert. They refused to believe what I had on my cell, so when I pulled those blood test results from my pocket—proof that Thorne was the biological father of Stone—the look on the director’s face was almost worth the chaos that preceded it.

Almost, because, despite what they saw, they still wanted to remove our son.

“They’ll be back soon,” I say, breaking the tense silence after I disconnect my call. “With more paperwork and probably more muscle. They’re convinced I’ve just plucked these results out of thin air.”

Zane grunts, “Let them try.”

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