Chapter 5 :The Surrogate Is the Target

Angelica’s POV

The door of my workshop clanged shut, locking out the relentless mid-afternoon heat. I tossed my keys onto the counter and dropped into my desk chair, letting out a breath I felt like I’d been holding since step one onto Bloodmoon land.

“Well, that went well,” Lyra piped up, her tone dripping with lazy sarcasm. “You insulted the prospective Luna, made the Alpha sign his life away on his knees, and secured three hundred grand. Should we throw a parade, or just order pizza?”

I couldn't help a dry, faint smirk from touching my lips as I pulled my hair down out of its tight bun, shaking out my dark curls. “I thought you were going to rip her throat out.”

“Please,” Lyra scoffed, stretching lazily inside my mind like a giant silver cat. “And ruin your suit? The girl weighs ninety pounds dripping wet and smells like synthetic vanilla. If I bit her, I’d probably get a hairball.” 

“He signed the addendum, Lyra. That’s all that matters.”

“For now,” she hummed softly, her witty banter dimming into a sharper, watchful focus. “But wolves like Ethan don't accept losing ground, Angelica. He’s going to look for a backdoor.”

My phone buzzed against the wooden desk, shattering the brief silence. I snatched it up, seeing a text from the clinic head: “Leo’s first silver-purge infusion is complete. Vitals stable. He’s resting.”

I let out a long, quiet sigh, resting my forehead in my hands. The relief was so intense it made my eyes sting, but I forced myself to stay grounded. The money was delivered, Leo was recovering, and the clinic was protected. 

Now came the hard part, fulfilling my side of the devil’s bargain.

Before I could reply to the clinic, a low, bone-rattling vibration shook the concrete floor beneath my boots.

It wasn't a single engine this time. It sounded like an entire war fleet rolling down the asphalt.

“Oh, goodie,” Lyra drawled, perking up in my chest. 

I stood up, walking toward the wide bay window overlooking the front yard.

Six custom heavy-duty cruisers pulled into the gravel lot, their blacked-out pipes roaring before killing their ignitions in unison. Leading the pack was Mercer.

He swung a long leg over his matte-black bike. His leather cut was dusted with road grime, his dark hair messy.

But something was wrong. His slate-gray eyes were cold.

I unlocked the side door and stepped out onto the gravel. “Grip. I thought routine checks were on Tuesdays.”

Jax didn't smile. He stopped a few feet away from me, his men fanning out behind him. Their hands hovered unnervingly close to their belts.

“Ethan Vance just pulled three tactical squads to the southern border,” Jax said, his gravelly voice dropping. “Your former Alpha is playing games, Haze.”

I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest. “He just signed a contract with me two hours ago. He’s supposed to be finalizing paperwork, not moving troops.”

“He's not moving them for the clinic,” Jax replied, taking a step closer, his slate eyes locking onto mine with an uneasy weight. 

“His brother, Caleb, just led a rogue raiding party into Iron Viper territory twenty minutes ago. They ambushed two of my patched members at the fuel depot. Burned three bikes and put one of my guys in the ICU.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. Caleb Vance. Ethan’s hot-headed, power-hungry younger brother who had been trying to provoke a territory war with the Vipers for months.

“Caleb is out of control,” I said, my voice tightening. 

“Ethan doesn't have a leash on him.”

“Ethan is the leash,” Jax countered smoothly, his tone icy. “And right now, he's using Caleb's brawl as a smoke screen. Word on the wire is that Caleb heard about the surrogate deal. He knows if Ethan produces a purebred heir, Caleb’s chances of ever taking the Alpha title drop to absolute zero.”

“Ah,” Lyra chimed in, her voice dripping with dark humor. “Family drama. The gift that keeps on giving. Should I grab popcorn?”

“Quiet, Lyra,” I thought back, my pulse beginning to race.

“Caleb isn't going after Ethan,” I realized out loud, looking at Jax as the horrific picture assembled itself in my mind. 

“He's going after the surrogacy.”

“He's coming for you, Angelica,” Jax corrected bluntly. 

“If you aren't around to carry the child, Ethan stays childless, and Caleb stays next in line for the throne.”

Before I could answer, the sharp, deafening CRACK of a high-caliber rifle shot echoed from the tree line bordering my property.

The glass bay window behind me shattered into a million exploding shards.

In a fraction of a second, before I could even draw a breath, Jax moved with speed. 

His heavy, warm arm slammed around my waist, yanking my body flush against his rock-hard chest as he tackled us both down behind the steel frame of a heavy hydraulic lift.

The roar of heavy automatic gunfire erupted from the woods, shredding through the wooden walls of my shop, filling the air with dust, screaming metal, and smelling of pure gunpowder.

Jax’s men immediately drew their sidearms, returning blind, thunderous fire into the tree line as they scrambled for cover.

Above the deafening roar of the ambush, Jax held me pinned securely beneath his massive frame, protecting my body with his own. 

“Looks like your contract just got complicated, Haze,” 

Jax grunted.

“Who the hell is shooting at my shop?!” I yelled over the gunfire, my fingers digging instinctively into the leather of his vest.

Jax reached into his holster, pulling a heavy custom sidearm and chambering a round with a sharp clack.

“Caleb Vance,” Jax growled, looking toward the shattered doorway as the roaring engines of incoming wolf-pack trucks echoed down the road. “And he brought the whole damn circus with him.”