Predator’s Patience

Lucas’s POV

She’s lying.

She’s lying and I know it with every cell in my body. Every instinct honed by blood, war, and the weight of the Blackwood name tells me the child is mine.

But she looked me in the eye and said he wasn’t. And worse—she said she met someone else. She is fucking giving my pussy to someone else. Well, I know i don't deserve that pussy but it's mine! Mine to fuck, mine to torment, mine! Fucking mine!

I haven’t slept since she told me she met someone else.

Three nights, no rest. Just pacing, planning, and blood boiling in my veins. My wolf is unstable, snarling beneath the surface like it’s seconds from snapping free. I’ve had to cancel meetings, ignore pack requests, snap at board members just to keep from tearing this city apart.

Because she stood there—calm, poised, cruel—and denied me and fucking told me my pussy is being fucked by someone else.

And now? Now I’m done playing fair.

The monitors lit up inside my private surveillance room. Four screens. Four different views of Selina Carter’s world.

One trained on her building’s underground garage. One on the front entrance of Carter & Co. Another on her penthouse rooftop terrace. And the fourth?

A long-range zoomed feed of the private school I think her son attends.

Grant stood behind me, tense, waiting. He knew better than to speak first.

“She’s lying,” I muttered, barely hearing myself. “She’s trying to protect him from me.”

“I agree,” he said. “Everything we’ve seen suggests she’s hiding something. But we need confirmation.”

I turned slowly. “Then get it.”

He swallowed. “That’s not easy, sir. She’s covered her tracks. Her property is shielded magically. Legally. Digitally. She’s wiped everything that could connect her to the boy.”

“Not everything.” I reached for the file on the desk—one I hadn’t stopped reading for days. “D. Carter. Five years old. No father listed. Private registration. No public records. That is the connection.”

“And what do you want me to do?”

I turned toward the screens again, my voice low and lethal. “I want eyes on the boy. All the time. I want a DNA sample. I want you to find the doctor who handled her pregnancy. The midwife. The nurse. Someone slipped. Everyone slips eventually.”

“And if she finds out?”

“She won’t.” I paused. “And if she does? Let her.”

Let her see I’m coming. Let her feel the pressure building beneath her throne. Because the truth will come out.

And when it does—I will rip every last wall she’s built down with my bare fucking hands. And I will fucking double everything because how dare she give out my pussy? She lets people disrespect my pussy? Fuck! How dare that pussy even clench another cock while it's supposed to throb for me? Me only!

Selina’s POV

There’s something about silence that’s worse than war.

Because at least when they come at you with knives, you can see them. Prepare for them. Bleed if you have to.

But this quiet? The unnatural calm in Lucas’s corner of the world? It meant something was coming.

I stood in my office, staring out the window, the skyline glittering like glass daggers on the horizon. I could feel it. Like a storm behind glass. Building. Waiting.

He hadn’t moved against me publicly. No lawsuits. No press leaks. No board attacks.

Which meant whatever he was doing… was hidden.

“Vera,” I said, without turning. “Did our firewall audit come back?”

“Yes, ma’am. Clean. Digital security is uncompromised. So far.”

So far. The words hung between us like smoke.

I finally turned. “Tell the safehouse team to prepare for relocation protocol.”

Her brow arched slightly. “You think it’s time?”

“He’s watching us. I can feel it.” I crossed the room and picked up the encrypted tablet from my desk. Damon’s picture flashed across the screen—a candid photo snapped just before school last week. Smiling. Carefree. Still untouched by the shadows that haunted us.

“He’s going to push,” I said quietly. “Harder than ever.”

Vera hesitated, then stepped forward. “Why not just tell him the truth?”

I looked up sharply.

She didn’t flinch. “You love that boy. And for all his flaws, Lucas is still his father. You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“I’m not playing.” My voice was cold. Final. “I’m surviving. There is no way I’m letting him near my son, the same way he did to me.”

I turned back toward the skyline.

“Lucas doesn’t deserve him. And I won’t let him destroy the only thing I did right.”

Lucas’s POV

Two days later, I had my first crack.

Not a birth certificate. Not a confession.

A backpack.

A small navy blue pack left behind by a careless school driver, zipped up with half a juice box and a medical alert tag.

Name: Damon Carter.

Blood type: AB negative.

Allergy: Silver derivative exposure.

Emergency contact: Selina Carter.

Silver? No human child would have that listed.

I stared at it for a long time; I didn’t smile, and I definitely didn’t speak. I just turned to Grant and said, “I want him protected. Everywhere. No matter what it costs.”

“You want him… guarded?”

“Yes.” My jaw clenched. “Because she’s not just lying to me.”

I glanced at the screen again, where a grainy photo of Damon was paused mid-step. Hair wild. Eyes sharp. Chin tilted just like mine when I’m about to bite someone’s throat out. I am just seeing a side view of the boy. But in due time, I will.

“She’s lying to him, too.”

And I won’t let that continue. That boy is definitely mine, even if I don't know it yet, but I will get a DNA test, and she can't stop me.

Not for much longer.