Page 18

Shaking my head in disbelief, I climb the steps, following the intoxicating scent of peaches and cream that lingers in the air. But with each step I take, my frustration grows. Why is she making me hunt her down? The pent-up rage within me intensifies with every passing moment.

“I’m fine, Stacey. Just go,” her voice echoes through the thin walls as I make my way through the halls.

Up on this level, the atmosphere is less refined than the floor below, indicating that this might be where the women live. The paint on the walls flaking and peeling away, giving an air of neglect. The floors beg for a thorough polishing. Above me, theold-style lights flicker and sway, casting an eerie glow as I move down the corridor.

A door creaks open, drawing my attention. A woman steps out of a room and quickly closes it behind her as she spins around and catches sight of me. Her gaze drops to the floor, and she hurriedly makes her way to a neighboring room. However, that brief moment when the door was ajar allowed me to catch a strong whiff of my mate’s scent wafting out from within.

Approaching the door, I grasp the locked handle and twist it until it crumbles in my hand, disintegrating into pieces. I stare at the broken brass doorknob in disdain. Their security system is a joke - incompetent officers and flimsy locks that crumble under the slightest pressure.

Shoving the door inward, I hear shuffling inside. My eyes scan the sparsely furnished room until they land on her, standing in the corner next to a tiny bathroom. She is near a crib, where a child wriggles and sucks on a bottle as she rocks him in her arms. I watch as she runs her fingers through his dark black curls, I know she can sense me in the room with her, but she doesn’t turn straight away, she continues to settle her child before turning her attention to me.

“I told you, you don’t want me. Just let me set my son down so I don’t drop him when you reject me,” she pleads, stunning me with her words. She gently places him in the crib, which holds only a few toys and a fraying blanket.

But I can’t tear my gaze away from the child she places in the crib. I blink in shock. A child, no older than two years old, his innocent eyes peering through the wooden bars as he watches his mother.

“The boy is yours?” I ask, feeling my luck plummet even further. My mate is not only entangled in this wretched place but also has a child.

“As I said, get it over with,” she replies with a sad smile, her voice trembling as she takes a step to the side, using her body to shield the child from my view.

I stare at the woman, contemplating the implications of this new revelation. Who would have thought that my mate would be a whore and have a child? I can’t help it; disgust churns within me.

“I’m Lycan, I can’t reject my mate,” I tell her.

“We can’t leave with you. I’ve already lost my daughter. I won’t risk losing my son, so you need to leave before they catch you here,” she says urgently, her breath catching as her heartbeat quickens.

“You have another child?” I demand, appalled that someone would harm an innocent life. She watches me for a second and then answers while turning slightly to gaze down at her son.

“They killed her when she was four. I tried to escape with her. I won’t make that mistake again,” she murmurs, her eyes welling up with tears as she plays with her son’s hair.

“Who killed her?” I ask.

“Her father did,” she says with the most subtle sniffle that I almost miss it.

I glance at the crib and nod, a surge of anger coursing through me. “Pack your things. We are leaving,” I demand.

“Did you not hear what I just said? I am not risking my son,” she growls, her protective instincts kicking in. Yet, her instincts are wrong, I am her mate and I won’t allow harm to come to her or her kid, despite him not being mine.

“You can bring him. He will be safe at the castle. You’ll be safe with me, and so will your son,” I assure her, trying to reason with her.

She scoffs. “Nowhere is safe,” she mutters, swiping a stray tear while shaking her head. “Safe doesn’t exist for those like us,” she whispers, her voice trailing off and growing smaller.

“What could be safer than being with a Lycan?” I snap, frustrated by her resistance and her thinking I’m incapable of protecting her.

“His father is one!” she retorts, and I blink in astonishment. My eyes dart back to the crib where the boy lies. Though he is still too young to distinguish scents, his is mingled with hers, masking any trace of his true lineage.

“Who is the father?” I ask, and she shakes her head, too afraid to mention his name.

“His father doesn’t matter, what matters is you leaving before he catches you here.”

“Who is the father, Tandi?” I repeat. “I’m not leaving without you, or without knowing, so answer, or I will sit and wait for him,” I warn her. She grits her teeth and curses under her breath.

“Council Elder Larkin. Elder Larkin is Hunter’s father,” she replies, her words hitting me like a bolt of lightning. My eyebrows shoot up so high they almost disappear into my hairline.

“Still believe we are safe with you?” she dares to question, and this time I scoff.

“He killed his daughter?” I question, disbelief dripping from every word. If that is true, it will be a surefire way to bring down the council.

“No, Alpha Brock killed her. Paige was Alpha Brock’s daughter from Shadow Pack,” Tandi explains, her voice tinged with sadness and anger.