CHAPTER 5

Mavis Thornefield POV

"Thank the Moon Goddess," Mavis Thornefield murmured under her breath, letting out a long, ragged exhale as the heavy bedroom door clicked shut.

She dragged her bruised, exhausted body across the plush carpet toward the dark leather couch in the corner of the suite, sinking into the cushions with a weary groan. Every muscle in her frame ached from the impact of the fallen motorcycle, and her wolf whined faintly behind her ribs, battered and weakened by years of isolation and harsh pack exile.

She assumed Alpha Benedict Crowell had finally left her alone to deal with the pack enforcement officers, but less than a minute later, the bedroom door swung open again.

Benedict strode back into the room with smooth, deliberate steps, holding a small metal tube of pack healer ointment between his long fingers.

Mavis instantly straightened up, her posture coiling tight as her eyes tracked his every move with sharp, instinctual distrust.

"Rub this into the bruises," Benedict commanded, his deep voice floating down over her head, heavy with implicit Alpha authority.

Without waiting for an answer, he set the tube down on the marble end table beside her couch and stepped back, his dark amber eyes lingering on her pale face for a tense beat.

The spot where the heavy frame of the motorcycle had crushed her lower thigh was throbbing with an intense, burning heat, and Mavis had no desire to prolong her own agony out of petty stubbornness. She reached out, snatched the tube from the table, and pushed herself off the couch, limping slowly toward the adjoining private bathroom.

Benedict stood near the foot of the bed, his broad chest rising and falling as he watched the heavy wooden bathroom door click shut behind her.

Inside the bright, tiled bathroom, Mavis leaned heavily against the vanity, wincing as she caught her reflection in the grand mirror. Beyond the bruised skin on her thigh, a deep, sharp ache radiated across her lower back where she had slammed against the hard pavement during the crash.

Applying the ointment to her leg was simple enough, but reaching the purple, swollen tissue across her spine proved nearly impossible. Mavis growled in frustration, her brows furrowing as she unbuttoned her top and slipped the fabric off her shoulders, leaving only her basic dark undergarments intact. She dipped a wooden applicator into the strong-scented salve and tried to reach behind her back, but the angle made her split muscles scream in protest.

The bathroom door suddenly swung open without a warning knock.

Mavis froze in shock. Before her mind could process his intrusion, Benedict moved with blinding werewolf speed, his large hand reaching out to snatch the applicator directly from her fingers.

He gripped her by the shoulders with unyielding strength, spinning her around so her back was pressed flush against his hard, warm chest as he forced her to face the large mirror above the vanity. A second later, a freezing, soothing sensation spread directly across the inflamed skin of her lower spine as his thumb smoothed the medicinal salve over her wounds.

Mavis snapped out of her momentary paralysis, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs as she grabbed his wrist in a desperate attempt to shove him away.

Benedict's heavy hand shifted upward to rest firmly on her bare shoulder, applying just enough pressure to keep her pinned against the edge of the marble sink.

"Stop twisting," Benedict growled softly into the crook of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. "I am not looking at your body."

Mavis's gaze flashed upward to her reflection in the glass. She was stripped down to her black bra, her chest heaving as a deep, involuntary flush crept up her neck and painted her cheeks red. Despite the burning hatred she held for him, her body's natural reaction to her true fated mate was impossible to completely suppress.

"I do not need your pity or your touch, Alpha Crowell," Mavis hissed into the mirror, glaring at his dark reflection.

Benedict offered no verbal reply. He kept his attention strictly focused on his task, his thumb moving in steady, firm circles across her lower back, expertly working the dark healer ointment into her torn muscles.

Mavis stood frozen on the cool tile floor, her breath hitching in her throat as the sheer proximity of his massive frame overpowered her senses. Benedict towered over her, his broad shoulders blocking out the ambient light of the room. Years ago, before the tragedy in the maternity ward, she had loved nothing more than wrapping her arms around his waist from behind, believing his strength was her safe haven in the pack.

She stiffened her spine into a rigid line, holding her breath in tense silence as she waited for him to finish.

"Your leg is injured as well, isn't it?" Benedict's low voice vibrated through her back.

"I can handle my own wounds," Mavis said coldly.

She grabbed a clean white hand towel off the rack, wrapping it tightly around her chest to cover her exposed skin. She reached out with a frosty expression, attempting to snatch the ointment tube back from his hand so she could leave.

Benedict simply lifted his hand high above her head, easily holding the tube out of her reach with a calm, maddening indifference.

Mavis gritted her teeth, realizing instantly that she lacked the physical strength to fight an Alpha in close quarters. Refusing to play his games, she snapped her head away, spun around, and attempted to brush past him to reach the bedroom door.

In her haste, her bare foot caught against his long leg, which he had subtly shifted into her exit path.

Mavis lost her balance completely, her breath catching as her hip collided hard against the edge of the marble vanity.

"What are you doing?" Benedict's cool voice echoed right beside her ear. "Watch your step."

A wave of pure rage surged through Mavis's blood. She turned around violently to snap at him, completely unprepared for how closely he had leaned down to catch her fall.

The moment she turned her head, her soft lips brushed directly against his cool, firm mouth.

The unexpected contact sent a sudden, electric shockwave straight through her dormant mate bond, paralyzing both of them in an instant. Mavis's wide eyes locked onto his, reflecting the exact same flash of stunned disbelief that flared in his golden amber pupils.

Mavis blinked rapidly, her head spinning as she instinctively jerked her face to the side to escape his warm, pine-scented breath.

Benedict's hand shot out, his long fingers cupping her jaw in an inescapable, possessive grip that forced her head back to face him under his overwhelming Alpha presence. Before a single word of protest could escape her throat, he dipped his head down, sealing his lips over hers and cutting off her air completely.

His free arm slammed flat against the marble sink behind her, caging her small body securely within his broad, muscular embrace. His lips pressed harder, demanding, rough, and hungry, forcing her mouth open as he claimed her sweet taste with absolute dominance.

Mavis gasped against his mouth, her hands pressing against his broad chest to shove him back, but the contrast between his heat and her cold skin only made her body tremble violently.

Benedict's hand shifted down, his fingers covering hers on the sink. His thumb gently stroked the sensitive center of her palm, sending a sharp, intoxicating shiver straight up her spine that made her inner wolf howl in sudden, desperate desire. Through her blurred, chaotic senses, she felt his other warm hand slide slowly around her waist, pulling her flush against his hard, throbbing core.

His deep growl vibrated against her tongue, possessive and dangerous, making her knees go completely weak as his mouth deepened the kiss, demanding her total surrender.

Just as Mavis felt her resistance crumbling under the raw, primal heat of his touch, a harsh, electronic alarm suddenly echoed from the main bedroom suite outside.

Benedict pulled back a fraction of an inch, his dark eyes blown wide with heavy black pupils, his rough thumb tracing her swollen lower lip as both of their chests heaved for air.

The electronic chime sounded again—a high-priority pack emergency broadcast issued directly from the Moonbrook Hospital security network.

Benedict's private communicator on the sink counter lit up, displaying a automated text alert in bold red lettering:

CRITICAL BREACH: Vault 04 at Moonbrook Hospital has been compromised. Medical record file #P-8821 regarding the living Thornefield infant has been accessed and wiped from the central server by an unknown user.

Mavis stared at the glowing red screen, her heart slamming against her ribs as the reality of the message hit her mind like a physical blow.

She lifted her eyes to meet Benedict's darkened glare, her voice trembling with a mixture of terror and raw realization.

"You knew," Mavis whispered, her voice breaking as she pushed against his chest with all her remaining strength. "You knew my baby was alive all this time, didn't you, Alpha?"