CHAPTER 5

Chapter 5: Fight or Flight

In the darkness, my twins' cries pierced through every maternal instinct I had. My body screamed in post-delivery pain, but my wolf was ready to fight. Twenty minutes old, and I was already failing to keep them safe.

"Give them to me," Ethan whispered, his warmth close in the pitch black. "You can barely stand."

"I can't—" My voice broke. "I can't let them go."

"Jessica." His hand found mine. "You're hemorrhaging. I can smell it. Let me help."

The emergency lights flickered on, casting everything in an eerie red glow. I saw myself in the window's reflection – pale, sweating, hospital gown soaked with blood. Some protector I was turning out to be.

A crash echoed from the hallway. Getting closer.

"Doc!" The wolf from earlier – Mark, according to his badge – slipped in. "They're using human police now. Claiming child endangerment. They've got custody papers with Bryan's signature."

Of course they did. Trust Bryan to use the human legal system when pack law failed him.

My laugh came out bitter. "Funny how he suddenly wants custody after rejecting us."

"Your babies are legitimate heirs to two powerful packs," Mark said grimly. "They'll never stop—"

"They're not heirs," I cut in, voice sharp despite my weakness. "They're babies. My babies. And I didn't go through five years of fertility treatments, three miscarriages, and labor in a damn ambulance to watch them become pawns in someone else's power game."

Ethan's sharp intake of breath made me look up. The way he was staring at me... like he saw something worth fighting for.

"You did fertility treatments?" His doctor mode kicked in. "That's... unusual for our kind."

"Bryan's idea. He was obsessed with having pure-blooded heirs. When I couldn't conceive..." I swallowed hard. "Let's just say pack healers aren't big on patient confidentiality. Every failed treatment became pack gossip."

The memory hit fresh – walking through pack gatherings, hearing the whispers. *Barren. Defective. Replace her.*

A contraction gripped me, different from labor. Something was wrong.

"You're bleeding internally," Ethan said quietly. "I need to operate. Now."

"No time," Mark interrupted. "They're on this floor."

My babies started crying harder, like they sensed the danger. In that moment, something inside me shifted. All my life, I'd tried to be what everyone wanted – the perfect mate, the ideal pack female, the legacy carrier.

Look where that had got me.

"Get me a wheelchair," I said.

Ethan blinked. "Jessica, you need surgery—"

"What I need is to protect my children." I met his gaze. "You run an underground railroad? Prove it. But I'm not letting these babies out of my sight."

He stared at me for a long moment, then a slow smile spread across his face. "Stub born wolf."

"Says the doctor running a secret rebel network."

"Fair point." He turned to Mark. "Plan C."

"The morgue route? That's insane! She's actively bleeding—"

"And I'll deal with that," Ethan cut in, already gathering supplies. "But first we need to—"

The door handle started to turn. We all froze.

Then a familiar scent hit me, and my heart stopped.

Sandra's voice carried through the door. "NYPD! Open up!"

But it wasn't her presence that made my blood run cold. It was the tiny whimper that followed – a sound I'd heard through three pregnancy losses, through countless pack gatherings.

Bryan was crying.

"Jess," his voice broke. "Please. I know I don't deserve it, but... they're my pups too. Just... just let me see them. Once."

Ethan's hand tightened on the wheelchair he'd brought over. Ready to run, ready to fight. Ready to save us.

But as I looked down at my twins – at their tiny faces already showing hints of their father's features – I knew what I had to do.

"Hand me my chart," I whispered to Ethan.

"What?"

"My medical chart. Now."

As I scribbled something on it, he read over my shoulder. His eyes widened.

"That's..."

"The truth," I said quietly. "The one thing Bryan never bothered to ask about during all those fertility treatments."

I nodded to Mark, who opened the door.

Bryan rushed in, Sandra close behind. He stopped dead when he saw the babies.

"They're beautiful," he whispered. "They're..."

"Not yours," I cut in, voice steady as I held out my medical chart. "Check the blood work, Bryan. Check the DNA markers."

His hands shook as he read, Sandra peering over his shoulder. I watched their faces change from confusion to shock to devastating understanding.

Because sometimes the biggest plot twist isn't about pack politics or power plays.

Sometimes it's about the secrets we keep to protect ourselves.

And the lies we tell to survive.

Bryan's hands trembled as he read the chart, Sandra's smug expression crumbling as she read over his shoulder. The silence in the room grew thick, broken only by my babies' soft coos.

"That's... that's impossible," Bryan whispered. "We did the treatments together. I was there—"

"Were you?" My voice was quiet. "Were you really there, Bryan? Because I remember going to most appointments alone. I remember signing forms you never read. I remember making choices while you were too busy climbing the pack ladder."

Sandra snatched the chart. "This has to be fake. The markers—"

"Show no Knox bloodline," I finished. "Check them again. Check them a hundred times. These babies? They're mine. Just mine."

Bryan staggered back, his face ashen. "All those treatments..."

"Failed." I met his eyes. "Every single one of them failed. But you were so focused on your precious bloodline, you never noticed when I stopped taking them. Never questioned why I suddenly got pregnant after three years of nothing."

Ethan shifted closer to me, his protective instinct rolling off him in waves. Bryan's eyes snapped to him, finally registering his presence. Understanding dawned on his face.

"You—"

"Made a choice," I cut in. "Just like you did when you chose Sandra. Just like you did when you signed those rejection papers without even asking if I was carrying your child."

The twins started fussing. As I adjusted them, my hospital gown slipped, revealing the scarred bite mark on my shoulder – Bryan's mating mark, already fading. Next to it, barely visible, was an older scar.

Sandra saw it first. Her eyes widened. "That's... that's a Rivera pack mark."

"Impossible," Bryan breathed. "Those were outlawed decades ago—"

"Because they bound mates through blood, not politics," I said softly. "Because they couldn't be broken by pack laws or rejection ceremonies."

My babies quieted, their tiny hands curling around my fingers. In that moment, they both opened their eyes – revealing irises of deepest gold. The same gold as the wolf I'd seen on the road the night of my accident.

Bryan took another step back. "What are you?"

Before I could answer, alarms blared again. Mark burst through the door, panting.

"Doc, we've got company. Real company." He looked at me significantly. "The Rivera enforcer just walked into the lobby. With proof of what really happened eighteen years ago."

I felt Ethan tense beside me. "Jessica, we need to move. Now."

But I couldn't tear my eyes away from Bryan's devastated face. The man who'd rejected me, who'd thrown away what he thought was his family for power, was finally realizing what he'd actually lost.

"You want to know what I am, Bryan?" I shifted my babies closer, feeling their warmth, their strength. My voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm what happens when you mix Rivera blood magic with a mother's need to protect her children."

The lights flickered again, but this time it wasn't a power failure. Energy crackled around me, making every wolf in the room take a step back.

Except Ethan.

As darkness crept into the edges of my vision – blood loss finally taking its toll – I saw Bryan reach for the twins one last time.

The last thing I heard before consciousness faded was Ethan's sharp intake of breath as my babies' eyes began to glow

.

And somewhere deep inside, my wolf smiled.

Because some secrets weren't meant to stay buried.

And some bloodlines weren't meant to be controlled.