Page 68 of The Alpha Wolf’s Secret Baby Boy

Chapter 18 - Poppy

You’re so close…

Slurp!

Make them pay… Make them pay…

The air in my lungs burns like fire as I inhale sharply and my eyelids fly open.

I flinch as the dark voices in my head scream over each other like they’re fighting for dominance, fighting to be heard, and I groan.

The knock on the door is what silences them—not completely, but just enough so that it doesn’t feel as chaotic as it has been since yesterday when Damian visited.

He’s been to see me twice since then, but I can barely meet his eyes, too troubled by the guilt of what’s becoming of me. All I can do is listen, with longing tugging at my heartstrings as he updates me about Daniel, telling me how they’re forming a bond, and passing on Daniel’s words of encouragement to me.

Every second that goes by without my son is gut-wrenching, and I can only imagine the hurt Damian felt when he found out about him ten years too late.

Maybe, if I don’t make it through this, it won’t be so bad. Damian and Daniel will have all the time in the world to form a bond, without me there to let my insecurities ruin everything—

“Poppy…? Are you awake?” Ingrid asks from the door, and I nod.

“Y-yeah. I’m awake.”

Watching her tread carefully into the room, I’m filled with more anguish, and I swallow the lump in my throat. I’ve been tied up here for a day, losing the pieces of my fractured mind as if they never belonged to me in the first place.

“Aoife has good news,” Ingrid tells me, and I groan because I hardly believe in hope.

I don’t feel very hopeful right now.

“Don’t look so despondent and hopeless, Poppy. She’s finally come up with a solution.”

“You can’t blame me for not trusting witches,” I scoff, and Ingrid sighs.

“These witches are different, Poppy. They’re outside right now, preparing everything for the ritual.”

“Ritual?”

Ingrid nods gently. “Sister Aoife has pulled out every last bit of information to formulate this ritual. She’s busy speaking to Damian right now. He needs to be there, since he’s your fated mate.”

A frown flits past my face as I nod. Deep down, I’d been hoping that it was Damian at the door when Ingrid came in. Even though the nagging guilt kept me up all night.

I’m losing my mind, losing control, despite the restraints keeping me bound to this bed. Yesterday, when Damian kissed me, it felt like I blacked out, and something else took over my body, those voices roaring in my eardrums.

Despite my trepidation and reluctance to trust witches, I do trust Damian. I trust Ingrid, and everyone who’s been working tirelessly to find a solution to fight the poison in my body.

Yesterday, Damian asked me to keep fighting, and I know I have to, but I’m just not sure if I have enough strength.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, searching for the strength I usually find when I touch my mother’s necklace. But even without it, there’s something else that fuels my resolve. Something within reach—two pairs of blue eyes—and I say, “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Ingrid nods, and that’s when Connor—accompanied by two Nightclaw soldiers—comes into the room. I numb myself to the shame of being treated like a criminal as they remove the shackles from my wrists and ankles, then proceed to cuff my hands in front of me.

“I’m so sorry for this, Poppy,” Connor apologizes. “But this is necessary.”

A cold shiver runs down my spine as I force a smile on my face. “I don’t doubt that. The last thing we need is for me to go rogue on everyone,” I chuckle dryly, and Connor offers me a terse, wistful smile.

“We’d rather not take any chances. Not until Aoife has completed the ritual.”

Connor instructs the soldiers to follow him, and they stand on either side of me as we’re led out of the clinic and into the clearing at the back of the building. The group waiting for us includes Dorian, Luna Amelia, Flynn, Cyrus and his mate Cassandra, Theodore, and Simon.