C3

Lanka Monroe POV

"My pack ride is parked by the eastern clearing, Lanka. Your scent is fading fast, let me carry you before your wolf collapses from the silver shock," Julian says, his fingers tightening gently on my bare forearm as I sway against the freezing night wind.

"I have my own two paws, Julian. I can walk out of this cursed medical sanctuary without breaking," I grunt, my teeth grinding together as a sharp spike of heat hits my lower abdomen where those shamans punctured my skin.

"Don't let your stubborn pride ruin your recovery, little omega. Stay right against this stone pillar while I fetch a transport chair from the lobby," Julian commands, his voice dropping into a comforting rumble before his heavy footsteps retreat down the gravel path.

"Get your paws off me!" I shriek a second later as a massive, suffocating cloud of cedar and burnt ash floods my senses, pinning my lungs before two thick, clawed hands scoop my thighs and lower back off the ground.

"Keep your mouth shut, Lanka, unless you want the entire territory to hear your submission cries," Andrew Wolfe growls directly into my ear, his massive chest heaving against my face as he strides toward his armored pack transport while a dozen dark-cloaked enforcers flank our sides.

"Julian! Julian, help!" I scream, thrashing my legs wildly against Andrew’s iron grip, but the heavy steel door of the transport slams shut behind us before Julian can even clear the sanctuary gates, leaving his borrowed coat discarded in the dirt outside.

"Stop squirming before you agitate the extraction wound, damn it," Andrew snarls, dragging me onto his lap as the vehicle tears down the mountain path, the solid privacy partition clicking shut to seal us into the dark, suffocating leather cabin.

"Your touch makes my skin crawl, Andrew. Move away from me," I wheeze, my fingers clawing at the thick wool of his trousers while the phantom burn of the silver needle leaves my stomach completely numb and trembling.

"Are you in pain? Where does it hurt?" Andrew asks, his deep voice cracking with a raw, feral desperation as his thick arms wrap tighter around my waist, pinning my hips against his rock-hard groin.

"Take your filthy hands off my body, Alpha," I spit out, glaring up through the shadows at his sharp, predatory jawline.

"Don't look at me with those dead eyes, Lanka. I command you, look away," Andrew rasps, his breathing turning ragged as he lifts one massive, scarred hand to cover my eyes completely while his other hand rips his silk collar open, his scent glands pumping out thick, possessive pheromones that make my inner wolf whine in forced compliance.

"Tell the driver to drop me at Carllo’s den," I say, wrenching my face away from his palm and pressing my spine flat against the opposite door, my eyes fixed on the blurring trees outside. "I am never setting foot inside the Wolfe Crest Estate again."

"We are going back to our private den, Lanka. I already summoned the pack’s high elder to monitor your womb for the next forty-eight hours," Andrew says, his clawed fingers reaching out to stroke the back of my neck, his voice dropping to a low, seductive purr. "You belong in my nest where the Hawthorne executioners cannot reach your scent."

"I would rather rot in the rogue lands than let you lock me up like a breeding animal again!" I roar, completely snapping as I launch myself at the reinforced glass partition, hammering my fists against the frame until the skin on my knuckles splits. "Stop this transport right now! Let me out!"

"Calm your wolf, Lanka! You are going to trigger a miscarriage!" Andrew roars back, his massive arms tackling me across the leather seat and pulling my back flush against his broad chest, trapping my wrists in a crushing grip.

"Do you truly despise your true mate this much?" Andrew mutters into my hair, his chest heaving with a deep, wounded growl that vibrates right through my ribs.

"I hate you more than the silver that pierced my skin today," I sob, my voice breaking as I stop fighting, exhausted and broken against his heat. "You got exactly what your mother wanted. You have my fluid for your line tests and your pact matches. Why won't you just cast me out and let me live in peace?"

"Lanka, look at me when I speak to you," Andrew commands, his fingers locking under my jaw and forcing my face upward until my eyes meet his dark, swirling ambers. "Before you sentence our bond to death, give your Alpha a single chance to clear his name. Am I already nothing but a monster to you?"

"Go ahead then," I whisper, my lips trembling as the aggressive, raw heat of his masculine scent begins to override my panic. "Speak. I am listening."

"First, you are going to explain exactly what you meant back in that cell," Andrew growls, his tone turning frosty as his thumb drags hard across my bottom lip, his eyes darkening with dangerous intent. "Whose name were you protecting when you swore that pup wasn't mine, huh?"

"There is nothing to explain to a mate who lets his pack hunt me down," I taunt, but my words are instantly crushed as his mouth smashes down onto mine.

"Mmh!" I gasp against his teeth, but Andrew uses the opening to drive his tongue deep inside my mouth, tasting of iron and raw dominance. He cradles the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair while his other hand slides beneath the hem of my torn shirt, his hot palm pressing flat against my bare waist.

"Andrew... stop..." I whimper, but my body betrayingly arches into his touch, my skin tingling where his rough fingers trace my ribs.

His hand slides lower, his thick palm coming to rest directly over my lower abdomen, his thumb caressing the exact spot where the shaman's needle had violated me, his fingers splayed wide across the tiny bulge of our unborn pup.

"Take back those wretched words, Lanka," Andrew orders against my neck, his lips nipping at my collarbone until I cry out from the overwhelming rush of heat pooling between my thighs.

"The pup is mine alone!" I scream through my tears, gripping his wrists to pull his hand away from my belly. "He has nothing to do with the Wolfe name!"

"Oh? And how exactly did an unmated omega boy conceive a high-alpha bloodline all on his own?" Andrew mocks softly, his dark eyes flickering with a sudden, wicked amusement as his palm remains firmly glued to my stomach. "A miracle of the moon goddess? A virgin alpha birth?"

"The fluid is already in your pack's possession, Andrew. Go run the lineage markers if you are so anxious," I spit out, my eyes burning with bitter anger. "Why don't you check if Julian's scent matches the child instead?"

"Don't push your luck, Lanka," Andrew warns, his grip tightening around my face until my lips part slightly under his gaze. "Stop trying to break me on purpose."

"I never doubted your fidelity for a single second," Andrew whispers, his voice dropping into a deep, gravelly register as he lets go of my face and gently brushes the damp hair from my forehead. "The extracted fluid was crushed by my own hand. No one is running a paternity test, and no one is using our pup for a Hawthorne match."

"What?" I gasp, my entire body freezing as I stare up at his stern, illuminated profile under the passing streetlights.

"The bloodline belongs to us, Lanka. No one else touches you," Andrew murmurs, pulling my relaxed, trembling body fully against his chest as the transport speeds into the gated driveway of the Wolfe Crest Estate.