Erica POV:
Rain lashed against my face, mixing with the hot tears I couldn't stop. I ran until my lungs burned, putting as much distance as I could between myself and the Obsidian club.
The water soaked my clothes, chilling me to the bone, but I hoped it would wash away the scent of the club. The scent of them.
I collapsed onto a bench at a bus stop, shivering violently.
Memories assaulted me. College. Bianca.
She was a Rogue who had infiltrated our university. She had planted Wolfsbane in the cafeteria food and framed me. Because my senses were dull, I couldn't smell the poison on my hands when she planted the evidence.
Everyone believed her tears. She played the victim perfectly. That was when my reputation was destroyed. That was why I never Shifted. The trauma of the pack turning on me had locked my wolf away.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out with trembling fingers.
"Hello?"
"Miss Erica?" It was the head nurse from the geriatric ward. "It's your grandmother. You need to come. Now."
The phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the wet pavement.
Grandma. My only family. The only human who loved me despite my wolf blood.
I scrambled to pick up the phone and ran to the curb, waving my hand desperately at the passing cars.
A yellow taxi slowed down, saw my disheveled appearance, and sped up again.
"Please!" I screamed, my voice cracking.
Another car passed. Then another. They were pack members. I could see the pack insignia on their bumpers. They ignored me. To them, I was the pariah. The invisible nurse.
I fell to my knees in a puddle, sobbing. "Please... someone..."
A low rumble vibrated through the asphalt.
A massive, matte-black military Hummer pulled up to the curb. It didn't look like a civilian car. It looked like a tank.
The passenger window rolled down.
A scent hit me.
It wasn't just a smell. It was a physical blow.
It smelled like ozone before a lightning strike. Like deep, ancient pine forests and iron. It was terrifying. It was intoxicating.
For a second, the rain seemed to stop. My heart, which had been breaking, suddenly slammed against my ribs in a rhythm I didn't recognize.
Mate.
The word whispered through my soul. But it wasn't a happy realization. It was a terrifying one. I was broken, pregnant with another man's child, and rejected.
The door opened. A man stepped out.
He was huge. Taller than Anthony. Broader than Emmanuel. He wore tactical gear, black combat pants, and a tight t-shirt that strained against muscles that looked carved from granite.
He didn't look like a normal wolf. His eyes were a piercing, glowing gold.
He walked toward me, ignoring the rain. His presence was so intense that the air around him seemed to crackle.
"You are in pain," he said. His voice was deep, like stones grinding together.
He didn't ask if I was okay. He stated a fact. He could feel it. The Mate Bond allowed us to feel each other's emotions.
"My grandmother," I choked out, unable to look him in the eye. The power radiating off him forced me to look down. This was an Alpha. No, something stronger. A Lycan.
"Get in," he ordered. It wasn't an Alpha Command, but it carried natural authority.
He lifted me off the ground as if I weighed nothing. His hands were hot, searing through my wet clothes. Where his skin touched mine, sparks danced along my nerves.
He placed me in the passenger seat and buckled me in.
"Hospital," I whispered.
He drove with precision and terrifying speed, weaving through traffic like the cars were standing still.
We arrived in record time. I didn't wait for him. I scrambled out of the car and ran to the entrance.
I burst into Grandma's room.
The machine was letting out a long, flat tone.
"Time of death, 11:42 PM," the doctor muttered.
"No!" I screamed, rushing to the bed. I grabbed her cold hand. "Grandma, no! Don't leave me!"
She was gone. The only person who looked at me with kindness was gone.
I pulled out my phone to call Anthony. He was the pack leader. He was supposed to handle the funerals of pack dependents.
I dialed. It rang once. Then it was declined.
A notification popped up on my screen. A livestream.
Holden Pack Official Account.
I clicked it.
Anthony was on screen, holding a champagne glass. Bianca was clinging to his arm, wearing a diamond tiara.
"To our future Luna!" Anthony toasted. The crowd cheered.
"And to new beginnings," Bianca giggled, looking directly into the camera. "Out with the old trash, in with the new."
I stared at the screen. My grandmother's body was cooling beside me, and they were celebrating.
The door to the room opened. The Lycan stood there. He had followed me.
He looked at the dead woman, then at the phone in my hand, then at me. His golden eyes swirled with a violent storm.
"I need a doctor," I said, my voice hollow. I stood up, wiping my face. The tears had stopped. There was nothing left to cry.
"You are injured?" the Lycan asked, taking a step forward.
"No," I said. I looked at my stomach. "I need a clinic. One off the pack records. I need an abortion."
His eyes widened slightly.
"And then," I said, looking at the transfer order Anthony had thrown at me. "I need to sign up for the medical volunteer corps."
"Where?" he asked.
" The Rogue Borderlands," I said. "The suicide squad."
I would not bring a child into this world to be killed by its father. And I would not stay in this city to watch them win.
