Page 39 of Baby and the Beast

"Liam, escort them to their quarters. Make sure they pack everything they own and nothing that belongs to this pack. Josh, I want you to witness the money transfer. Pepper, go back to our guests and make my apologies. Tell them I have urgent pack business."

His betas nodded grimly and began ushering Martin and Clara from the room. Kyle stood alone in the space Cyrus had lovingly restored, surrounded by memories of his childhood and the scent of betrayal.

But underneath it all, fading already, was the lingering trace of his mate's scent. The man who had uncovered the theft, saved his pack, and then disappeared without a word.

Kyle sank into his father's old armchair—the one that had been overturned and broken, now perfectly repaired—and buried his face in his hands. His wolf whimpered pitifully, a sound that matched exactly how Kyle felt inside.

He had to find Cyrus. Had to bring him home.

He just didn’t know where to start.

Baby and the Alpha

Chapter Eight

Kyle stood at the edge of the forest. His wolf was clawing at him, desperate to be free, desperate to hunt for what they'd lost.

He stripped quickly, folding his clothes and leaving them on a fallen log. The shift came easily, his wolf surging forward with relief at finally being released. On four legs, Kyle threw back his head and howled his grief and rage at the darkening sky.

The sound echoed through the trees, a mournful note that seemed to go on forever. When it finally faded, Kyle put his nose to the ground and began to search.

Cyrus's scent was everywhere around the pack house—in the kitchen where he'd helped prepare food, by the office where he'd worked so diligently, near the cabins where he'd helped settle the new families. But Kyle needed to find where the trail led away from home.

He found it finally, near the main road. Cyrus's scent was sharp with distress, fear, and something else that made Kyle'swolf whine in recognition. Heartbreak. His mate had been heartbroken when he left, and it was all his fault. If he’d taken the time to talk to Cyrus properly, Cyrus would have understood, felt valued,loved. But he’d left thinking he was none of those things.

Kyle followed the trail as far as he could, nose pressed to the asphalt where a vehicle had stopped. The scent ended there, overlaid with the smell of exhaust and rubber. Wherever Cyrus had gone, he'd been picked up by someone with a truck.

But who? Cyrus didn’t know anyone here. None of this made any sense.

But Kyle didn't give up. He ranged wider, checking every path, every deer trail, every possible route Cyrus might have taken. His wolf was tireless, driven by an ache that seemed to grow worse with each passing hour.

The moon rose full and bright overhead, casting silver shadows through the forest. Kyle ran until his paws were sore, until his tongue lolled from exhaustion, but he found nothing. No trace of his mate beyond that initial trail to the road.

As dawn began to creep over the horizon, Kyle finally shifted back to human form. He sat naked on the forest floor, his back against a massive oak tree. His chest felt hollow, like something vital had been carved out of him.

His wolf lay quiet now, not from contentment, but from defeat. They both knew the truth—Cyrus was gone, and they had no idea how to find him. He knew he had to return to the pack. Liam, Josh and Pepper wouldn’t leave him alone for much longer, but he would try ranging further down to the human campgrounds.

Exhausted, he finally returned to the pack late afternoon to see Marnie glaring at him, hands on hips. He was amazed she wasn’t brandishing her rolling pin.

“Where have you been, Alpha? You have a pack to run.”

He didn’t care.

He moved away when she came nearer. “What do you want, Alpha?”

He laughed almost hysterically. As if she didn’t know. He squinted at her. Maybe she genuinely didn’t.

“My mate.”

She nodded as if that was a reasonable answer. “And who’s that?”

Kyle scowled. Actually scowled like he’d never dared to as a pup. He would have gotten bruised knuckles, at the very least.

“You know who,” he muttered, heading for the room Cyrus had repaired. Where his scent was strongest.

“Owen?”

“What?”Kyle was so shocked he stopped. “Owen? What the f—hell.How could you possibly think I’m talking about Owen?” She was losing her mind.

---