All Chapters of The Alpha's Mute Mate: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Anton arrives a few minutes later with doctors and warriors in tow. The doctors immediately tend to Vanessa and the baby while the warriors carefully lift her onto a makeshift stretcher for transport to the hospital.Anton falls into step beside me as we head back to the packhouse, his presence solid and grounding. I'm suddenly very aware of how much blood is soaked into my clothes—Vanessa's blood, the baby's blood, all of it drying sticky and dark against my skin.We push through the packhouse entrance and nearly collide with Scarlett coming the other way."Oh heavens, Evelina, are you injured?" Her hand flies to her chest, her eyes wide as they take in the blood covering my shirt.She might sound concerned, but the slight upturn at the corner of her mouth tells a different story."I'm not injured. The blood isn't mine.""Thank goodness." Relief floods her expression—practiced, perfect. "I was worried something terrible happened to you. I started to wonder who would become Anton’s Lu

"I'm sorry," I say as the bedroom door clicks shut behind us.Anton walks into the bathroom without responding. I follow him to the doorway, guilt twisting in my stomach as I watch him pull a towel from the hook. He doesn't look angry—his expression is calm, controlled—but I know I crossed a line today."I understand having a little fun during training," he says finally, turning to face me with the towel draped over one shoulder. "Making it less tense, more engaging—that's fine. But you need to understand that sometimes tension is necessary. If you can handle pressure during training, you'll be unstoppable in a real fight.""You're right." I lean against the doorframe, my wet clothes clinging uncomfortably to my skin. "I should've thought about it that way. I'm sorry.""All is forgiven." His lips curve into a small smile as he steps closer. "I'm not angry with you. Now take off your clothes."Heat floods my face. "Thank you for the towel," I say quickly, reaching for it.He pulls it b

I don't know how many times Anton made me scream his name today—lost count after the third. I didn't even know pleasure like this existed until he showed me what his mouth and fingers could do.I offered to return the favor after the first time, but he refused. Said he didn't need it, that watching me fall apart was enough.I didn't believe him.The second time he brought me to the edge and back, I insisted. Told him it wasn't fair that I was the only one getting off, that I wanted to make him feel as good as he made me feel.He gave in.And judging by the way his hand fisted in my hair—so tight I thought he might rip it out by the roots—I'd say I did more than fine.Now we're lying naked in bed, our bodies still cooling, neither of us with enough energy to move. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and pulled up the romance novel I started last week, content to let my muscles recover while I read."What are you reading?" Anton asks, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across my bare

Aunt Elena returns in record time, her arms loaded with medical supplies. I grab them from her and immediately start sorting through what I need."Help me with these," I say, holding up a pair of sterile gloves.She snaps them on my hands quickly, and I reach for the cotton wool and hydrogen peroxide. The moment I press the soaked cotton to Mason's chest, he flinches, a pained hiss escaping through his teeth."Sorry," I murmur, working as gently as I can while still cleaning the wounds properly.He has cuts everywhere—deep gashes across his chest, his arms, his ribs. Who did this to him? What kind of fight did he stumble into?"Sorry," I say again as he winces. "I'm so sorry."By the time I've cleaned every wound, the word has become a mantra I can't stop repeating.I wrap bandages around his torso, his arms, anywhere the bleeding hasn't fully stopped. He needs stitches—I can see that clearly—but I'm not a doctor. I wouldn't even know where to start, and the thought of pushing a needl

I wake to darkness and the smell of rot.My eyes adjust slowly—or try to. The space around me is pitch black, the kind of dark that presses in from all sides. I try to shift my vision, to call on Eva's enhanced sight, but nothing happens. The connection to my wolf is just... gone. Cut off like someone severed a limb I didn't know I could lose.Panic claws at my throat.Eva?Silence.I push myself up from the cold stone floor, and my entire body screams in protest. Every muscle aches like I've been lying here for hours—or days. I don't know. Time feels meaningless in this suffocating dark.I reach out blindly, my fingers brushing against rough stone. A wall. I press my palm flat against it and start moving, using it to guide me through the blackness. My other hand stays extended in front of me, searching for obstacles.Then my fingers hit metal.Pain explodes across my palm—white-hot, searing. I yank my hand back with a silent gasp, cradling it against my chest. The scent of burned fle