All Chapters of THE PREGNANT SHE WOLF: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

SHARON’S POVThe map room smelled of old leather, fresh ink, and the faint cedar Morris always carried on his skin. I stood at the long oak table with my palms flat against the edges, staring at the red pins Kelly had pushed into the paper: safe houses, border crossings, neutral towns just beyond pack territory where no wolf scent would follow. Three days of planning had turned the table into a battlefield of notes, routes, and contingency lists written in Morris’s sharp, slanted handwriting.Lina would go with the twins. She’d already packed their favorite blankets, the carved wolf toys, the tiny shoes with the soft soles. A human couple—old friends of Kelly’s from a border town—had agreed to pose as grandparents, offering them names and new papers. They are offering to house them in a small house with a yard and a swing set, with no pack sigils and away from howls at the moon. Just ordinary days, ordinary nights, ordinary safety.I traced the route again with my fingertip, starting

SANDRA’S POV I woke to the smell of smoke and sweat-soaked fur.Darius’s arm lay heavy across my waist, thick muscle pinning me to the furs. His breath rasped against my neck, deep, even, the sound of a man who’d fucked himself into a coma and hadn’t moved since. The tent canvas glowed dull orange from the dying fire outside. Somewhere close a horse snorted, a log cracked in the flames, low voices murmured between the rogues on watch. Normal sounds, alive sounds.I felt none of it. My body ached in places I hadn’t noticed last night, my thighs were bruised, my lower back felt sore, and my legs were swollen and tender. I shifted once and felt this sharp sting. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from hissing.Careful not to wake him, I slid out from under his arm. He grunted, rolled onto his back, one scarred forearm flung over his eyes. I sat on the edge of the pallet, feet on cold dirt, and stared at the space between my knees.Last night had been necessary, it had been brutal and

SANDRA’S POV Sunlight sliced through the tall windows of my sitting room and painted gold stripes across the rug. I lounged on the velvet chaise, legs crossed at the ankles, swirling red wine in a crystal glass. The vintage tasted expensive, sharp on my tongue, exactly the way victory should. I had no idea yet how complete it was. My phone stayed silent on the side table. No calls, no frantic messages from panicked contacts. Just quietness, actually it was a delicious kind of quietness.The double doors opened without a knock as Darius stepped inside, his boots leaving faint dirt prints on the marble. His leather jacket smelled of smoke and gun oil. When our eyes met, the corner of his mouth lifted in that slow, satisfied curl I had come to crave.I set the glass down as my pulse kicked up. “You look like a man who just won something.”He crossed the room in long strides, stopped close enough that I could smell the char on his clothes. “I did.”My breath caught as I searched his face

MORRIS’ POV I stood at the narrow window of the safe house bedroom and watched rain stripe the glass. Sharon slept behind me, finally still after another round of tears and whispered promises to our unborn child. The room smelled of antiseptic and her lavender shampoo, a fragile normalcy that made my fists clench.They thought she was ash. They thought our kids were bones in a ditch. Sandra had thrown her victory feast, collected condolences like trophies, while Darius counted his blood money and probably fucked his way through half the territory to celebrate.I let the rage simmer low instead of boiling over. Rage without direction was useless. I needed cold, precise and patient cold.The door clicked softly. Kelly slipped inside, rain-dark jacket dripping onto the hardwood. He carried two paper cups of coffee from the gas station down the road. No cream, just black, the way we both took it when sleep was a rumor.I took the cup without looking away from the window. “You get the man

SHARON’S POV The jasmine climbed the trellis beneath the balcony and released its perfume in slow, and heavy waves. I leaned my forearms on the iron railing, letting the cool night air slide over my bare arms and lift the hair from my neck. The safe house sat high on the ridge, far enough from the main roads that the only sounds were crickets, distant frogs, and the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. Stars hung low and bright, close enough that I felt I could reach up and brush them with my fingertips.Inside my rib cage something soft and golden kept expanding. It wasn’t a trigger, it didn’t actually have any clear reason for being there. Maybe it was the rage I felt towards my supposed sister, or maybe it was the fact that Sandra was still breathing free air and Darius was still counting his blood money and sleeping on clean sheets. Or the fact that the council still whispered doubts without proof. Despite all the hate and anger I felt I still had room for joy that refused t