Page 65 of The Alpha's Sin
“Oh, babe. It’s not your bank account I’m interested in this time.”
A cold shiver runs through me.
“Then what?”
He flicks his gaze deliberately to my belly.
“You think I tossed your birth control just because I’ve got some kind of pregnancy kink? Please.” He makes a face like the very idea disgusts him. “But babies—Were babies—those are rare. Our race is dying out. And there are plenty of childless Were couples out there desperate for a baby of their own. Desperate enough to pay top dollar—especially for an Alpha pup.”
I freeze, my stomach twisting violently.
Dirk smirks wider.
“Leaving you with Logan was the best move I ever made. Letting him feed you, shelter you, keep you alive through your little ‘Second Heat.’ And now look at you.” His eyes glitter as he stares at my belly. “Carrying a perfect Alpha pup. That one alone will bring me ten times more than his little sister. And I’ve already got a buyer lined up.”
Bile rises in my throat. I clutch my middle protectively, feeling the babies kick inside me.
“You’re a monster,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “You’re talking about selling your own child! What’s wrong with you?”
Dirk shrugs, completely unconcerned.
“You’re my wife, which makes those babies mine. My property. What’s wrong with selling my property?”
Tears sting my eyes, but I glare at him through the blur.
“Logan will never let you get away with this! He’ll never let you sell his child.”
Dirk laughs, harsh and ugly.
“Oh, I don’t think you need to worry about my big bro anymore. Where I’m taking you, Logan will never find you.”
He slams his foot on the accelerator. The truck rockets down the highway, the lights of town fading behind us. Mile after mile ticks away, each one putting more distance between me and the only man who ever made me feel safe.
Silent tears slip down my cheeks. My stomach knots tighter and tighter, not from nausea but from fear. My hands are cupped over my belly, over the tiny lives inside me, as though I could protect them. Dirk must have a place to hide—somewhere Logan’s PI couldn’t find.
I might never see Logan again. And my babies—our babies—are going to be sold to the highest bidder. I have never felt so vulnerable.
Or so utterly alone.
53
LOGAN
It’s been a week.
Seven days of rage.
Seven nights of prowling the roads, the woods, every goddamn back alley I can find, my Wolf half-crazed and my body running on fumes.
Every night, I hunt for Poppy, desperate for even a whiff of her scent. But the trail always goes cold. Dirk was careful—too careful. He covered their tracks, scrubbed her scent away, maybe even had help. She’s nowhere to be found.
When I’m not hunting, I’m driving. Miles and miles, circling the county, going farther each day. Every gas station, every back road, every cheap motel—I’ve checked them all. Nothing. Not a trace. Nobody has seen them.
And then I come home.
Home to the silence. To the nursery down the hall—the one we painted together in soft greens and whites. The cribs sit empty. The tiny onesies we bought hang limply in the closet, mocking me. I lean against the doorframe and it feels like my chest is caving in. My babies should be growing strong inside her, safe and protected. Instead… I don’t even know where she is.
At night, the bed is too big. Too cold…too empty. Every time I close my eyes, I see her—scared… trembling with Dirk’s filthy hands on her. My Wolf goes feral inside me, howling for blood, demanding we track him down and rip his throat out. And God, I want to. I want to so bad it hurts.
