Chapter 345
Chapter 345:
“Good,” she said finally, her tone cold. “Because if they come after me again, I’ll make sure they regret it p>
Her wolf growled, a low, dangerous sound that sent a shiver down my spine. I wanted to reach for her, to tell her that she didn’t have to face this alone. But something told me she wouldn’t welcome the gesture. Not yet.
“Rest,” I said softly, taking a step back. “We’ll figure this out. Together p>
She didn’t respond—I turned to leave, my chest tight with emotions I couldn’t even begin to untangle.
She was awake. She was alive. And yet, it felt like I was losing her all over again. I walked down the hallway, the only thought in my head being that whoever was responsible for this—whoever had hurt my mate—was going to pay.
No one messed with Jasmine and walked away unscathed. Not a single fucking person.
Jasmine’s POV
Two days. Two damn days since I woke up, and my world has been a rollercoaster of emotions I can’t seem to control.
Layla’s been smug as hell, repeating her usual “I told you so” mantra, and for once, I hate to admit it, but she’s probably right. Something is off with me—something more than the physical exhaustion or the leftover anger that won’t quit simmering under my skin.
“See?” Layla pipes up in my head, smug as hell. “I told you something was off, but no, you just had to be stubborn, as usual p>
“Shut up,” I mutter under my breath, though there’s no one around to hear me.
Yesterday, I slapped Ryder. Yep, full-on, open-palmed, smacked him right across his stupidly handsome face. He’d insisted on taking me back home—like I was some fragile little doll that couldn’t survive outside his precious pack house. The nerve.
And honestly? It felt good. Cathartic. I’m not proud of it… okay, maybe I am, just a little. The look on his face was priceless.
Layla snickers. “Admit it. You enjoyed that more than you should have p>
Explore more chapters on gⱯlnσνe𝓁s․cøm
“The big bad Alpha needed that wake-up call. And maybe next time, you should use your claws p>
“Stay out of it,” I snap, but I can feel her satisfaction buzzing in the back of my mind like a damn cheerleader.
The thing is, all these emotions—this whirlwind of anger, confusion, relief, and something I can’t quite put my finger on—they’re all still getting to me. I can’t sort through them fast enough to make sense of anything.
And trust? Trust is out the window.
If there’s one lesson life has hammered into me over the years, it’s this: never trust anyone. Not fully. Not completely. People are unpredictable, selfish, and they’ll always put their own interests first.
I don’t care how sincere Ryder’s apologies are, or how much he claims he wants to fix things. I don’t trust him. I don’t trust this pack either. Hell, I barely trust myself right now.
I’m being fucking serious right now—don’t trust anyone, not even your damn mate. I wasn’t going to Ryder for answers, and I damn sure wasn’t going to let him or his people handle this. Instead, I called my mom.
When I told her I wanted a doctor I could trust—someone outside this whole pack politics bullshit—she didn’t even hesitate. She found one, and we ran the test together.
And now, here I am, staring at the results, my hands trembling as I read the words over and over again, just to make sure I’m not imagining them. Pregnant. I’m pregnant.
Layla lets out a low, contented growl, her presence warm and steady in the back of my mind. “Told you so,” she says, her voice softer now.