Page 13 of Betrayed Alpha Bride

“Nightmares?” I echo, horror dawning on me as I absorb her words.

He’s approaching his first shift…

I have to find him!

“I don’t know where to start,” Clara says frantically. “But he usually heads towards the woods. If we go that way, it’s our best chance.”

“Wait,” I say softly, holding up my hand. Tilting my head to the side, I close my eyes and focus on Nico’s scent. It’s heavy in the air, mixed with Clara’s and the everyday scents of the home.

Walking slowly, I go out the front door, then close my eyes again. The scent isn’t hard to track. Nico’s blood calls to mine with the urgency of a siren on a speeding ambulance.

“What is it, Galen?” Clara asks.

“I can track him,” I answer. “Follow me.”

I hear her close the door and hurry along behind me as I jog up the path. The closer to the woods we get, the stronger Nico’s scent becomes.

It’s not just that he’s near, either. He’s sweating and hot, as if he’s been running hard or has a fever.

Potentially both.

Clara stays on my heels as I enter the trees. I don’t need to focus now, as Nico’s scent is clear against the tall pines and damp soil. I track him without difficulty, and when I crest over a small rise and see him lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of a tree, equal parts of fear and relief crash through me.

I found him!

Is he okay? Is he dead? Is he breathing?

Please, let him breathe!

Clara screams behind me, putting on a burst of speed that leaves me in the dust. I struggle to keep up as she bolts to Nico, throwing herself down on the ground in front of him and putting her hand on his cheek.

“Nico, baby, it’s Mom. Talk to me.”

Nico murmurs, but doesn’t open his eyes. Sweat is pouring down his forehead. Even though he looks pale, there are bright red spots on his cheeks.

“He’s burning up!” Clara cries. “We have to get him home!”

“What’s happening?” I demand. “Is he sick?”

Clara turns to look at me, her eyes deeply troubled. A dull ache spreads in my chest as I realize my worst fears are true.

“He’s preparing to shift,” I mutter.

“That’s what I thought,” Clara says, her voice tight with fear. “Hey, Nico,” she whispers, turning to him and stroking his cheek. “Are you okay, baby?”

Suddenly, Nico wakes up and screams. His eyes are wide, the whites of them blazing with a sickly yellow sheen. I’m so stunned, I take a step back, but Clara grabs his shoulders and shakes him, looking right into his face.

“Nico, Nico!” she shouts. “Can you hear me? Please, baby!”

Nico screams again, his pupils narrowing into points. His eyes don’t move, but stay fixed straight ahead on something we can’t see.

Something that isn’t real.

Suddenly, Nico growls. The sound seems too deep and menacing to have come from such a small child. Clara lets go of him in a hurry, but she doesn’t back away.

In a movement faster than any of us can follow, Nico gets up and runs, scrabbling around with his hands and feet, trying to run on all fours. He tears through the forest, growling and snarling as he fights against his own body.

I chase him down—I don’t know what else to do. I don’t need to call on my wolf at all—Nico’s movements are fast but frenzied and clumsy. I easily catch up with him and pounce, pinning him to the ground.

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