Chapter 50
The night was cold and still, the sky stretching above me like an endless void. After my conversation with Amaya, I had nothing left to say. So, I did what I always did. I walked away.
By the time I reached my chamber, exhaustion settled deep in my bones. I stripped off my cloak, sank onto my bed, and pulled the covers over myself.
The mattress was soft, warm. But sleep never came. I stared at the ceiling, my mind racing, thoughts tangling together like a never-ending web.
Gregory. Amaya. The traitor lurking within our pack.
And…
The life growing inside me.
I sighed, rubbing my stomach absentmindedly. “What the hell have I gotten myself into?” I whispered.
The clock struck midnight. And still, I lay there—awake, restless. Finally, I gave up. I pushed the covers aside and stood, deciding to check on Jonathan.
Jonathan’s nursery was quiet when I stepped inside.
The dim glow of a small lantern bathed the room in a soft golden hue. I walked toward the crib, but then—
I stopped. And stared. Because Alex—fully grown, large-as-hell Alex—was curled up inside Jonathan’s crib, fast asleep.
In the crib. Like a big-ass baby. I bit back a laugh, shaking my head.
“Jonathan,” I whispered as I reached into the crib, lifting the tiny boy into my arms.
His big, sleepy eyes blinked up at me. “Is your daddy asleep?” I teased. “And aren’t you bored?”
Jonathan let out a tiny gurgle, his chubby fingers wrapping around mine. My heart squeezed. I wasn’t his mother. But now that I was carrying a child of my own, I felt this deep, unshakable connection to him.
He was family.
I rocked him gently, whispering soft words, pressing a small kiss to his forehead. “You deserve better than the mess we’ve made for you, little one,” I murmured.
Jonathan’s tiny fingers patted my cheek, his way of answering. I smiled. For the first time all night, I felt at peace.
Until—
A noise. A rustling. The sound of whispers. I stiffened. My head snapped toward the door, my wolf instincts immediately kicking in.
I carefully placed Jonathan back into his crib, making sure he was tucked in properly. Then, moving as silently as possible, I stepped toward the door and cracked it open—
Just enough to peek outside. And what I saw made my blood run cold. Amaya.
Sneaking through the halls. Alone.
Her movements were cautious, secretive—like she didn’t want to be seen. My stomach tightened.
What the hell was she doing now? And more importantly—
Why was she sneaking around in the middle of the night?
