The pain intensifies, spreading from my stomach to my lower back, then down my thighs. My skin feels too tight, too hot, like I’m burning up from the inside.
“Oh god,” I moan, pressing my hands to my abdomen. “It hurts.”
“I know,” my mother says, her voice thick with tears. “I know. But you have to be strong now. You have to run. Find your pack.”
I shake my head, fear and pain making my thoughts fuzzy. “I can’t leave you,” I say, grabbing her hands. “Come with me. Please.”
“I can’t,” she says. “If we both go, they’ll know it was planned. They’ll come after us with everything they have. But if it’s just you, if they think you ran because of the heat...” She smiles, though tears are streaming down her face. “I’ve given up my life once to save you, Anya. I’ll do it again if that’s what it takes.”
“I’ll come back,” I promise, my voice choked with tears. “I’ll get the police, I’ll bring help.”
“No,” she says firmly. “You won’t. You’ll go far away from here, and you’ll stay away. You’ll forget about me, and you’ll live a long, happy life with that pack of yours.” She pushes me gently toward the trees. “Now go. Run. And don’t look back.”
I want to argue, to grab her hand and drag her with me, but the pain is getting worse, my thoughts growing more scattered by the second. My body feels like it‘s on fire, my skin hypersensitive, every brush of fabric against my flesh agony.
“Mom,” I whisper, one last plea. “Come with me. I don’t want you to go back with them.”
“Go,” she says, giving me a gentle shove with tears runningdown her face. “I love you, Anya. More than anything in this world. Now run.”
I run.
The wedding dress tangles around my legs, the fabric tearing as I crash through the underbrush. I gather it up with shaking hands, lifting the hem to my knees so I can move faster. Branches whip at my face and arms, leaving stinging scratches in their wake. My bare feet slip on wet leaves, stumble over roots, but I don’t slow down, don’t dare look back.
Tears stream down my face, partly from the physical pain, partly from the wrenching agony of leaving my mother behind. After all these years, I found her only to lose her again. It’s not fair. It’s not right.
I’ll come back, I promise myself, pushing through a particularly dense thicket of brambles while crying. I’ll bring the police, the National Guard if I have to.
I’ll burn this place to the ground and everyone in it.
The pain in my abdomen spikes again, a cramp so intense it drives me to my knees. I retch, though nothing comes up, my empty stomach clenching painfully. The wetness between my legs has increased, my panties soaked through, the slick running down my inner thighs.
This is really the heat, I realize with horror. This is what Ryker warned me about. This crushing, overwhelming need, this burning pain that is taking over my entire body. All I can think about is him and his pack.
My skin feels like it’s on fire, every nerve ending hypersensitive. My nipples have hardened into painful peaks, rubbing against the fabric of my dress with each stumbling step. Between my legs, my pussy pulses with need, slick gushing with each contraction of my womb.
I need an alpha. I need a knot.
The thought forms without warning, shocking in itsclarity and intensity. I need to be filled, to be claimed, to be taken. The emptiness inside me is unbearable, a yawning void that demands to be filled.
“Oh my god,” I gasp as my pussy clenches on nothing, desperate for the stretch and fullness of an alpha’s cock, for the relief of a knot locking us together as he pumps me full of cum.
The image of Ryker flashes through my mind—his massive body looming over mine, his dark eyes filled with hunger as he pushes into me, his cock stretching me open, filling me completely. The memory sends a fresh rush of slick gushing from my core, my thighs growing slick with the evidence of my arousal.
I fall to my knees, then forward onto my hands, dry heaving as another wave of pain crashes through me. My arms tremble with the effort of holding myself up, sweat pouring down my back, soaking the already ruined wedding dress. My hair has come loose from its updo, hanging in sweat-dampened strands around my face.
I can’t go on. I can’t run any farther. The pain is too much, the need too overwhelming.
I need a knot. I need my pack.
Twenty-One
RYKER
My paws hit the forest floor in my rush to get to Anya. The scent grows stronger with each step, making my nose twitch with anticipation. Grape. Sweet, tangy, and undeniably hers. My omega. The wolf inside me howls with need and rage. She’s out here somewhere, alone, possibly hurt, and it’s my fault for letting her get away.
I push through the undergrowth, branches whipping at my fur-covered flanks.
Behind me, my pack follows in perfect formation—Alaric to my right, his sleek golden form moving with deadly grace; Rex to my left, his red coat blazing like fire in the moonlight; Lorenzo and Marcus bringing up the rear, their powerful muscles rippling beneath their fur as they leap over fallen logs and crash through brush.
