Hollis POV: I locked the peeling wooden door of the bathroom and stared at the cheap pregnancy test shaking between my fingers. Under the flickering yellow bulb, two bright red lines burned into my retinas. My knees buckled. I slid down the cold, grimy tiles until I hit the floor, my hands instinctively flying to cover my flat stomach. My stomach lurched as memories from two months ago flooded back—a pitch-black storage room at the Hilton, the suffocating scent of pine from a rogue Alpha caught in the violent fever of The Heat, and the searing pain of being claimed against my will. A loud crash rattled the door frame, followed by the groan of splintering wood. "Hollis! You useless wolfless stray, get your ass out here right now!" My adoptive mother Brenda's shrill roar slammed against my eardrums. For twenty years, she had treated me like livestock, draining my veins every month to feed her sickly biological son while reminding me I was just a defective stray she picked up off the streets. Panic choked my throat. I scrambled to my feet, wrapped the plastic stick in wads of toilet paper, and shoved it deep into a rotted hole beneath the sink. Before I could draw a breath, the door flew open. The rusted lock clattered to the floor. Brenda stood in the doorway, her sunken, sallow eyes blazing with greed and fury. "Hiding in here to slack off again? Dwayne just coughed up blood! Did you push him?" She didn't let me speak. Her bony hand tangled in my pale blonde hair and wrenched me out of the bathroom. Tears sprang to my eyes as my scalp burned. I kept both arms wrapped around my belly, stumbling until I crashed onto the rough concrete floor of the living room, scraping my knees raw. "I didn't push him! I haven't even gone near his room!" I bit my pale lip, my voice trembling as I looked toward my adoptive father, Vernon, who was slouched on the sofa. Vernon didn't even lift his eyelids. He blew out a ring of cheap cigarette smoke. "Cut the crap. Dwayne needs White Wolf blood. Take her to the clinic and drain it." His words hit me like a bucket of ice water poured over my head, freezing the blood in my veins. In werewolf society, pure White Wolf blood carries a miraculous healing power bestowed by the Moon Goddess, though Brenda had forced me to drink bitter herbs since childhood to suppress my scent and keep me weak like a wolfless Omega. I scrambled backward, my fingernails screeching against the concrete. "No! You already drained me twice this month! If you take more, I'll die!" What about the baby inside me? My body couldn't survive another extraction! "We picked your worthless life out of the gutter! Keeping my son alive with your blood is an honor!" Brenda slapped me across the face. My head snapped to the side, my cheek swelling with heat. She grabbed a coarse hemp rope and tied my wrists behind my back, dragging me out the front door like a calf headed for slaughter. Filthy water pooled along the slum street. A few low-ranking strays glanced over with dead eyes, none of them willing to step in for a girl with no pack backing. Freezing wind whipped through my thin shirt. Every step sent a dull ache through my lower abdomen, and a suffocating wave of despair closed over my head. Fifteen minutes later, Brenda shoved me through the rusted iron door of an underground back-alley clinic reeking of bleach and old blood. A back-alley doctor in a stained white coat walked over holding a thick syringe that glinted under the bare bulb. With a burst of strength born from sheer terror for my unborn child, I lowered my head and rammed it into the doctor's stomach, bolting toward the half-open door. Brenda moved faster. She kicked the back of my knee. I hit the floor hard on my kneecaps before she wrestled me into astained leather chair. "Hold her down!" Brenda barked. Together, they strapped my arms to the armrests with leather belts that bit into my flesh. I watched in horror as the thick needle plunged into my vein, sending an icy throb up my arm. Dark red blood flowed rapidly through the clear tube. As the bag filled—200cc, then 300cc—my vision blurred and a loud ringing filled my ears like a broken engine. "Stop... please..." I whispered, slumping against the backrest without the strength to lift a finger. Brenda flicked the swelling blood bag. "Dying already? Quit faking. Fill it to 400cc before you pull the needle." An invisible hand squeezed my heart until I couldn't breathe, followed by a sharp downward tug deep in my belly. My baby was crying out for help. I bit the tip of my tongue until I tasted rust, forcing myself to stay awake as tears soaked the dirty leather. The doctor finally yanked the needle out without even pressing a cotton ball to the wound. Brenda snatched the warm bag of blood and hurried out. "Buy some bread and get back here. Don't die on the street." The doctor shoved me off the chair and kicked me out onto the pavement. Gasping for air, my clothes drenched in cold sweat, I pushed myself up from the freezing ground. The street spun wildly as I clutched my cramping stomach and staggered toward the cheap bakery on the corner, praying my baby would hold on. Suddenly, a heavily armored black SUV tore through the thick fog, its blinding high beams swallowing me whole.

Hollis POV: The blinding headlights cut through the fog, and I threw my bleeding arm up to shield my eyes, my drained body too slow to jump out of the way. Tires screeched against the asphalt, kicking up acrid white smoke as the massive black SUV skidded to a halt less than two feet from my knees. The rush of air knocked me off balance. I hit the freezing pavement hard, scraping the skin off my elbow until fresh blood beaded on the surface. The cramping in my lower belly reached an unbearable peak. Curling into a tight ball with both hands pressed over my womb, I let the pitch-black darkness pull me under. Through the haze of unconsciousness, I felt myself lifted from the icy street into a chest that radiated heat like a furnace. A sharp, commanding scent of winter pine wrapped around me, easing the violent shivers racking my frame. When my heavy eyelids finally fluttered open, the first thing I saw was a canopy of black velvet and a massive crystal chandelier sparkling above my head. I lay on a king-sized bed soft enough to sink into, the air warm and thick with that same pine scent. My mind went blank for a second as I tried to prop myself up on my bruised elbows. Then, a low, gravelly male voice carrying absolute Alpha authority echoed from just outside the bedroom door—the exact voice of the devil who had torn me apart in the dark two months ago. Ferrell POV: Twenty minutes earlier, I had slammed on the brakes in the middle of the slums, the veins on the back of my hands bulging as a murderous glare darkened my eyes. Cursing the strays who didn't know how to stay off the road, I shoved open the heavy bulletproof door and stepped out into the freezing wind. The instant my boots hit the asphalt, a faint, unmistakable scent cut through the stench of garbage and hit the back of my throat. Cedarwood and white lilies. My tall frame froze, the breath catching in my lungs. I would know that scent even in my grave—it belonged to the girl I had lost control and claimed during my Heat two months ago before she vanished without a trace. My blood boiled in my veins, my heart hammering against my ribs as goosebumps rose along my arms in a violent physical surge. Inside my head, my massive black Dire Wolf let out a deafening roar of pure possession: Mine! Every werewolf knows the Moon Goddess binds Fated Mates through five undeniable reactions upon meeting—the intoxicating scent, the physical surge, the inner wolf's roar, the sudden peace in the soul, and the electric sparks upon contact. I strode across the filthy puddles and scooped her fragile body off the ground. The moment my fingertips brushed her icy skin, a jolt of electricity shot up my spine, filling the hollow ache in my chest with a sudden, overwhelming sense of peace. Under the glare of the headlights, her face was paper-white, framed by tangled blonde hair. Then I saw the fresh, gaping needle puncture on her arm and smelled the sweet metallic tang of pure White Wolf blood. Who dared drain my mate? My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached, and a wave of Alpha dominion blasted outward, making the stray dogs in the alley whimper and flatten their ears to the ground. Stripping off my bespoke suit jacket, I wrapped her small frame tightly, carried her to the backseat of the SUV, and immediately projected my voice through the Mind-Link to my Gamma and head of security, Iain. Five minutes. Have Arthur waiting at my penthouse with a full trauma kit. Ignoring Iain's startled reply, I floored the gas pedal, tearing toward the Cummings Pack corporate tower in the city center. Once the private elevator opened into my penthouse, our Pack Healer, Arthur, bowed frantically with his medical case. I carried her straight to my black velvet bed and brushed a cold lock of hair from her cheek. "Examine her and fix her," I ordered Arthur, slipping my family's ancestral moonstone wolf-crest ring onto my right index finger and rubbing the cold stone as I swore whoever hurt her would see their entire bloodline buried.

Hollis POV: Hearing that terrifying voice outside, I bolted upright on the black velvet bed, an invisible fist squeezing my heart until my chest ached. I frantically checked my clothes. My dirty shirt and jeans were still on, covered only by a heavy bespoke suit jacket saturated with that suffocating pine scent. The cracked phone clutched in my palm suddenly buzzed violently, the name "Brenda" flashing on the screen. My thumb hit answer out of sheer conditioning, and Brenda's shrill scream blasted through the speaker. "Where the hell did you die, you little bitch? Where is the bread? Do you want Dwayne to starve?" "I... I'm coming back right now," I whispered, hanging up with shaking fingers. I couldn't afford to think about why I was in a billionaire Alpha's penthouse. Throwing off the velvet duvet, I stepped barefoot onto the thick Persian rug and crept toward the half-open mahogany double doors. The hallway outside was paved with cold marble. Just as I poked my head out, tense voices drifted from the living room, freezing my feet to the floor. "Alpha, this young woman is suffering from severe blood loss and chronic malnutrition..." a trembling voice reported. "And more importantly, she... she is two months pregnant." The word "pregnant" turned my blood to ice. I clamped both hands over my mouth to choke back a gasp. A deafening crash of shattering glass echoed from the living room, followed by that terrifyingly cold voice ordering the doctor to get out or be thrown into a pool of molten silver. Run! I had to get out of here right now! Spinning around, I bolted down the opposite end of the sprawling hallway, searching desperately for a service exit. The massive penthouse was a maze of dark doors and marble pillars. Sweat beaded on my forehead as my heart hammered against my ribs. Heavy, unhurried footsteps suddenly echoed behind me. Panicking, I whipped around a corner and reached for a guest room doorknob, only to slam face-first into a wall of solid muscle. The impact knocked me backward. A steel-like arm shot out, hooking around my waist and yanking me flush against a hard chest. The overpowering scent of winter pine filled my nose, making my legs go weak before I could even struggle. I looked up into a pair of bottomless black eyes burning with rage, set in a face that was as handsome as it was cruel. His gaze dragged slowly down my face and locked onto my flat stomach. "Awake?" His low, raspy voice vibrated against my eardrums, his large hand tightening around my waist. Trembling, I glanced down at the right hand gripping my hip. On his long index finger sat a silver-toned ring inlaid with a glowing moonstone carved with a wolf totem. My pupils shrank to pinpricks. Two months ago in that pitch-black hotel room, that exact freezing stone had scraped across my collarbone while I begged for mercy. It was him! Terror and humiliation snapped the last thread of my control. I shoved hard against his chest, stumbling backward until my spine slammed against the cold marble wall. "Don't touch me!" I screamed, my voice cracking as I crossed both arms tightly over my belly. His eyes turned to ice as he took a slow step forward, trapping me against the wall. Ferrell POV: Minutes earlier in the living room, Arthur's trembling diagnosis had hit me like a sledgehammer. Pregnant? Every high-ranking elder in the northern territories knew the Cummings bloodline carried an ancient, ruthless curse of infertility—my seed was too volatile to let any female conceive. "Say that again," I had snarled, unleashing a wave of Alpha's Command that forced Arthur to his knees on the marble floor. "It's true, Alpha! The life pulse is faint, about two months along!" Two months matched that night, yet the curse made it impossible. Furious at the thought that my Fated Mate had spread her legs for another man right after leaving me—even as my inner wolf whined in a strange, protective agony—I had swept a crystal ashtray off the table and ordered Arthur to keep his mouth shut under threat of molten silver. Now, staring down at the trembling girl cowering against my hallway wall and shielding her stomach from me like I was a plague, my jealousy boiled over into a cruel sneer. "What's wrong? Carrying another man's bastard makes you that afraid of my touch?"