Page 26

Chapter 26

Miller

Hospital corridors weren’t built for pissed-off alphas. The narrow hallway outside Freya’s room feels like a pressure cooker about to explode as testosterone mixes with adrenaline and heightened scents that hang thick in the air.

Zane leans against the wall, watching Thorne pace like a caged predator while I make a call to our pack lawyers because as much as security escorted those DRA assholes out. They warned they would be back.

Every instinct I have is still on high alert. They refused to believe what I had on my cell, so when I pulled those blood test results from my pocket—proof that Thorne was the biological father of Stone—the look on the director’s face was almost worth the chaos that preceded it.

Almost, because, despite what they saw, they still wanted to remove our son.

“They’ll be back soon,” I say, breaking the tense silence after I disconnect my call. “With more paperwork and probably more muscle. They’re convinced I’ve just plucked these results out of thin air.”

Zane grunts, “Let them try.”

“Are you sure they were DRA officials?” Thorne asks.

I run my hand through my hair, frustration bubbling through me. They had badges, but something feels off.

Thorne continues. “The lawyer told me the DRA doesn’t typically make hospital calls like this. They usually send letters first.”

“Unless they sent letters to her apartment,” Zane says.

Thorne stops pacing, his jaw tight. “But how did they even know where to find her? She’s not at her apartment.”

“Her medical records probably have a tracker on them,” I say, keeping my voice low.

Zane pushes off the wall, eyes narrowing at his brother. “That doesn’t explain how they knew about Stone in the first place. The birth certificate shows my name.”

A heavy silence falls between us. Thorne’s shoulders stiffen, and I catch the subtle shift in his scent.

“Thorne?” I press.

He won’t meet our eyes. “I might have made some inquiries.”

“What kind of inquiries?” Zane’s voice drops dangerously low.

“I asked Maya to check wellness center records. To see if we could track down who...” He doesn’t finish the sentence.

Zane lunges forward, grabbing his brother by the collar. “You fucking idiot!”

I step between them, pushing them apart. “Keep it down. Freya’s already terrified.”

“Why couldn’t you just let her be?” Zane snarls.

“I thought—”

“The baby’s father should know.” The pieces click together in my head. “But you’ve put them in a perilous position. “

Thorne’s face pales. “I never thought—”

“That’s the problem,” I cut him off. “You never think about anyone but yourself.”

We fall silent as a nurse walks past, giving us a warning look.

“I thought I stopped it.”

I shake my head at Thorne. “We need to get back to Freya,” I say, straightening my lab coat. “She needs to know we’re not going to let anyone take her baby.”

“We need to get her out of here,” Zane says.

I grimace. “She had a severe drop four days ago. Moving her could be risky.”

Thorne rubs a hand over his stubble jaw. “Is it riskier than leaving her where government officials can walk in and try to take my baby and potentially jail her?”

“Our baby,” Zane corrects him, and both Thorne and I turn to him. “She and Stone are our pack now, Thorne. The baby belongs to this pack.”

“Talking about Stone. Why did you run the tests?” Thorne stops pacing, his shoulders rigid as he turns to me. “When did you know?”

“I had an inkling she had something to hide. She tried to tell me a few times, but stopped herself,” I tell him.

Zane hums to himself like he’s just worked out the puzzle. “We could protect her and the baby by making Freya our official omega. Then we can protect them properly.”

“Yes. We could ask her to accept us legally…we could claim her,” I say. “I know it’s a bit early, but—”

“Not for me,” Zane adds.

“Not for any of us, I suspect.” I look at Thorne who has done a three sixty when it comes to Freya. Not that I’m complaining. “But it might be too early for Freya. Especially when she finds out he caused this.”

“Let’s get her and Stone home and talk about it later,” Thorne murmurs as another nurse nears us, and there’s a vulnerability there I’ve never heard from him before.

“Okay. I’ll get her discharge papers started,” I volunteer. “They won’t question me. And I’ll get security to help us as we leave.”

Thorne takes his phone and hits a contact. “I’ll get some back up…just in case.”

Two hours later, I’m behind the wheel of our vehicle, with Zane riding with me at the front as we travel home through the back roads. Thorne sits in the back with Freya and the baby.

Freya is staring out of the window, like she is still wondering what the hell is going on.

Our car is flanked by two more SUVs carrying security that Thorne hired to put off any potential target by having multiple layers of protection.

“You think they’ll try something?” Zane asks, eyes scanning the tree line as we take another turn on the winding mountain road.

“Not until they have more evidence.” Thorne nods to the security cars around us. “This is just a precaution.”

“Until the DRA accepts the truth, we have to keep Freya and the baby indoors,” I reply, my knuckles white on the steering wheel.

“What’s that up ahead?” Zane lowers his head and points.

I slow slightly, squinting through the windshield. “I don’t see anything—”

The trees to our right rock, and a large black SUV comes from nowhere and heads toward us. I grip the wheel as our vehicle swerves, tires skidding on loose gravel.

“Fuck! It’s an ambush!” Zane shouts, drawing a gun from the glove compartment. “This is not the actions of the DRA.”

Up ahead, one of our security vehicle’s brakes hard, and I slow our car. But just as I do, three men burst from the tree line, holding guns to our windshield.

“Fuck!” I fight with the steering wheel to spin the car in a controlled skid, positioning us in the opposite direction only to see another SUV traveling to us at speed.

“Who the fuck are they?” I try to maneuver the car to one side of the road as a shot is fired at our vehicle.

Freya screams as the car rocks.

Thorne roars. The sound he makes is so primal it makes the hair on my neck rise. He grabs Freya’s head and pushes it into his lap. He tries to reach across Freya to grab Stone, but he’s knocked to the other side of the car when I can’t control it and it skids to a stop. Only now do I realize the first shot was aimed at the tire.

Figure in black tactical gear emerges all around the car, holding their weapons at our faces as all the doors are flung open and guns thrust into the car.

“No!” Freya screams, trying to claw away from Thorne.

I turn to see a black figure walking away, clutching a small bundle. The other men walk backward protecting him but keeping their guns trained on us.

“We’ve contained the threat from ahead.” I hear it on our radio. “I have two men down, though.”

I grab it and yell, “They have the baby!”

“Fuck! Stay in the vehicle,” the security guy says. “I’ll deal with it.”

“No, I’m coming.” Thorne’s voice is coated in anger as he takes the weapon that I hand him before he looks at Zane and says, “Stay with Freya.”

“I’m coming,” she sobs.

“You’re staying here,” Thorne hisses.

“I need my baby.” Her teary eyes lock on his. “Please.”

“And I’ll bring him.” He swallows. “I promise I won’t fuck up. Trust me.”

She nods, biting her lip. “Then lock me inside. Just get my baby back.”

Thorne holds her sobbing face in his hands to look at him. “Breathe Freya. In and out. Please breathe for me and then I know I can leave you.”

“I’m fine. I’m breathing. I’m not dropping. I just need Stone. Please!”

“We need to go.” In the distance, I watch as a figure passes the bundle to another black-clad operative who sprints toward the tree line. This is the work of professional work. That can’t be good.

“Just go,” Freya yells.

Minutes later, we’re following the attackers to their vehicles beyond the tree line.

The operative and Stone disappear into the forest, but the security guard assures us he's a seasoned tracker in these woods.

We follow, silent and focused, ears tuned to the smallest snapping twig.

Five minutes in, I catch the scent. An unfamiliar alpha male scent and his adrenaline is spiking.

“He’s moving that way.” I point northeast toward the ridge. “Hopefully, he is slowed down by holding the baby.” I hope that’s why I can smell him, and we’re gaining ground.

“I’ll go this way,” the security guy says.

“I’ll come with you.” Thorne runs behind.

When I finally catch sight of the operative holding Stone, he’s running from the tree line to a small clearing where a helicopter waits. Rotors spin. Another operative stands by the open door, gesturing urgently.

My heart drops. Just one hundred meters and Stone is in the air.

Not happening.

I choose my moment, then step into view and point my gun. “That’s far enough.”

The operative with the baby hesitates, turns, and assesses me. “This isn’t your fight, Doctor. This baby belongs to my boss.”

My eyebrows raise slightly. He knows who I am. Interesting.

“The baby belongs to my pack,” I say calmly, despite the rage building in my chest. “I’m taking him back now.”

The operative shifts the bundle, and I glimpse tiny fingers. My throat tightens. “The baby belongs to Patrick O’Hearn, and he wants his bloodline.”

Patrick O’Hearn. The name registers immediately—the alpha hole boss of an Irish mobster pack, notorious for his dodgy dealings. But something doesn’t add up.

“O’Hearn knows damn well that the baby is not his bloodline. Why the hell does he think that?” I ask, taking a careful step forward. “I have the blood work to prove it.”

“And Patrick O’Hearn has paperwork saying otherwise.” The operative’s eyes dart to the helicopter, then back to me. “Freya Rose attended the wellness clinic. Mister O’Hearn has been waiting forever for his scent match so he could have a baby, but he’s getting older, and this one is good enough.”

“The baby isn’t his and Freya didn’t attend the clinic.”

“Of course you’re going to say that, but the truth is, the omega got pregnant with his child.” He holds Stone to me. “And he wants him.”

Before I can process that, the forest on the other side of the helicopter erupts with movement. Thorne bursts into the clearing, eyes wild, followed closely by Zane while the security guy creeps to the helicopter. He deals with the pilot and the second operative, ensuring the helicopter won’t be taking off.

I step forward, gun high, but still positioning myself to intercept if the baby is dropped. But it’s unnecessary. Thorne moves with deadly precision, disarming the operative holding his son before the man can even raise his weapon. Like they know how the other thinks, Zane grabs Stone from his arms and turns his back to protect our son.

The infant is somehow sleeping peacefully, unaware of the blood spattered across his father’s shirt.

Thorne stands in the clearing, while Zane cradles Stone against his chest with a gentleness that contrasts with the violence I just witnessed.

“Take him back to Freya,” Thorne orders me as Zane carefully transfers the baby to my arms. His voice is deceptively calm, but his eyes promise retribution. “Zane and I need to have a conversation with our friend here.”

The operative kneels in the dirt, hands zip-tied behind his back, face bruised but defiant. I nod, understanding what’s about to happen.

We need to get out of here.

The sun is setting through the forest, and the sky is turning darker.

Freya hasn’t let go of Stone since I returned him. Her knuckles are white where she grips the blanket. She looks up as Thorne approaches, her eyes flickering over his bloody face as fear and relief battle in her face.

Zane jumps in the car next. “It’s done,” he says, his voice rough from exertion. “We’re clear to move.”

I catch Thorne’s eye. “And?”

“Someone contacted O’Hearn, telling him he was a father.”

“It must be Maya.” The name falls like a stone from Zane’s mouth.

Thorne nods. “I believe that’s the case, but let me deal with it.”

Freya makes a small sound of distress.

“I told you about her,” Zane says flatly. “She was obsessed with you and you never helped the matter.”

“I will deal with her. And I suspect Patrick O’Hearn will too if she is the one who gave him the information.” I watch Thorne’s face harden, then soften as he looks at Freya and their son. He reaches out, his bloodied knuckles a stark contrast to the gentleness of his touch as he strokes his baby’s cheek.

“What now?” Freya says. “Are we safe?”

“We’re going home, and we’ll let no one touch you again,” Thorne says to Freya, wrapping a protective arm around her.

I catch Zane’s eye when Freya softens against Thorne’s hold. It’s not just her, though. We’ve both known Thorne and recognize the change in him.

Our pack is whole now. Different, but whole.

And God help anyone who tries to break it apart again.