Chapter 544
I threw the heavy duvet off my legs, my bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. “I need to go back to him.”
“You cannot,” she stated, not moving an inch, her voice carrying the absolute authority of a Pack matriarch. “I have already initiated Ghost Protocol.”
I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. “What?”
“My most trusted Warrior, Weston, has overwritten your medical files and scrubbed the clinic’s security footage. A staged break-in at your apartment has destroyed any physical evidence of your life there.” Her eyes met mine, cold and absolute. “To the world, you are simply a wolfless who cracked under the pressure and vanished. You no longer exist, child.”
“You kidnapped me?” I breathed, backing away from her. “Why would you do this? I demand to see my Mate!”
Gigi stood, letting her oppressive presence flood the room, forcing my weak body to tremble. “Because while you were unconscious, Dr. Evans confirmed it. You are pregnant, Adella.”
The room violently spun. My hands flew instinctively to my flat stomach. A baby. Dallas’s baby. A tiny spark of life amidst all this death.
“Before I brought you to this safe house,” Gigi continued, her voice dropping to a dangerous, venomous whisper, “I had a confrontation in the Blackwood Pack’s medical wing. Dosha, the Alpha Female of the Crimson Paw Pack, suspects the truth. She looked me in the eye and made a vow.”
Gigi stepped closer, her expression sharpening with lingering fury. “She said, ‘I swear on my ancestors, if that wolfless bitch is carrying a Marshall heir, I will carve that pup from her womb myself and feed it to the crows.’”
Ice flooded my veins. I curled inward, wrapping my arms protectively around my abdomen. Dosha was a ruthless monster who would slaughter me without a second thought to secure her own power. Tears blurred my vision, spilling hot and fast down my cheeks.
“Then we need Dallas,” I pleaded, my voice breaking into a sob. “He’s my Alpha. He would protect us. I belong by his side, Gigi—please!”
Gigi’s expression softened into a mask of profound, devastating pity. She sat on the edge of the bed and reached out to grasp my trembling hands.
“My grandson is a dying beast, Adella. He believes he is broken—a monster. He just learned he is sterile. If he discovers you carry his child—a child he can never Mark, a legacy he can never claim—the shame and the belief that he is endangering you both will shatter what little remains of his will to live. He will force you to get rid of it, convinced it is the only way to save you from him. You will lose the baby, and he will die from the grief.”
Her words hit me like physical blows, shattering my soul into jagged pieces.