Chapter 3 The claim

MILLI-ROSE'S POV

"What?" I blinked in confusion, my voice shaky. I was utterly lost by his words and low-key terrified by the fury laced in them.

"It's not her, is it? It better not be," he repeated, his deep growl slicing through the room. His eyes were glowing...yes, actually glowing and the intensity in them chilled my blood.

Involuntarily, I took several steps back, away from the storm brewing in his body.

Who the hell is this man?

Why does he look like he just crawled out of some supernatural mafia fantasy?

Whatever or whoever-he was, I didn't want to know. I couldn't afford to be curious, not even a little. Men like him were to be admired from afar. Not touched. Not approached. Definitely not... involved with.

Those beastly eyes? They'd burn every ounce of peace out of your life. Unapologetically.

Besides, I had enough problems right now.

"Please, excuse me," I said stiffly, trying to slip past him. More like run past him.

But a strong, calloused hand grabbed my arm, yanking me back like I was weightless.

"Is she the one? Yes or no? Dammit!" he snapped again.

My body jolted from the sheer force of his voice. His eyes bore into me, and the heat of his touch on my arm felt like it would leave a permanent brand.

"Ye..." the nurse stuttered behind him.

My eyes widened. My stomach dropped.

"Yes, she is."

"No, I'm not!" I blurted out, yanking my arm back, breath trembling. "You've got the wrong person, I swear. Please, let me go."

I sounded pathetic, practically pleading now. But I couldn't help it...he had the kind of energy that made you feel like the air around you didn't belong to you anymore.

Dr. Saint finally stepped in, his tone shaky but firm. "Sir, what is the meaning of this? Let go of her arm, you're hurting her."

The man didn't blink. Didn't flinch. Didn't even acknowledge him.

Of course he wouldn't. Men like him don't ask. They take.

"She's the one, sir," the nurse confirmed again. Her voice was timid and apologetic, but her words struck like lightning.

The one what?

The one who... what? stole a car? Crashed a plane?

Carries... a child?

My heart thudded painfully.

No. No. No.

This had to be a mistake.

My terrified gaze darted to Dr. Saint, but the look on his face told me he had no control over this either. His expression practically begged for my forgiveness.

"Oh, you sly bitch. So this is him?" Silas's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and bitter. "This grumpy bastard is the one? You sure have a weird taste, Millie."

My jaw dropped.

Their voices rang in my ears like cruel music, spinning a tune I didn't understand and didn't want to be a part of.

He's not the guy. He's not any guy. I don't even KNOW him!

I'm not pregnant!

I didn't cheat!

I don't even want to be HERE!

The answers screamed inside me, but when I opened my mouth, they came out as pathetic whimpers.

"No... no, I'm not carrying his child or anyone's," I said, tears spilling freely now. "This is a misunderstanding. Please... keep looking. I'm sure you'll find the girl you're looking for, but it's not me. I swear...I don't even know you..."

My voice cracked on the last part. His jaw tensed.

Then he turned to the nurse, eyes sharp. "She doesn't know? What do you mean she doesn't know? Wasn't this supposed to be an agreement?"

The nurse visibly trembled. But before she could utter a single word, Silas chimed in again, with that venomous smile.

"So let me get this straight... you knocked her up and now you're playing daddy? Hah! Must be nice. Little slut gets a happily ever after with the Beast of Chicago."

The man didn't respond. He didn't need to.

He just glared at Silas and the tension in the room thickened like a storm cloud.

"I'm calling your father," Silas snarled, whipping out his phone. "He deserves to know his sweet, virgin daughter has been playing house with some oversized mutt."

"No!" I cried, lunging forward. I grabbed Silas's shirt, tears blurring my vision. "Please. Don't call him. Let me figure this out. Just... give me a chance. Please..."

"Get off me, you lying slut!" he roared.

His hand rose. I saw it coming, saw it aim for my face.

But I never felt the hit.

Because that stranger, the terrifying man who had gripped my arm like steel was suddenly in front of me, hand clamped around Silas's wrist.

"If you ever think about hitting her again," he growled low, his voice a lethal promise, "I'll tear your hands from their joints. Crush them. Feed them to my dogs. Do you understand me?"

Silas went pale. Like, corpse pale.

Dr. Saint's mouth hung open. The nurse looked ready to faint. Even Martha had stopped breathing.

All of this... over one man.

I needed to run.

I picked up my bag I just noticed had fallen off my grip and bolted, feet moving faster than my thoughts. I hailed a taxi with no destination, only desperation.

My phone buzzed nonstop, Callie calling, texting, reminding me about the photoshoot. But I was in no state to pose. I turned it off.

I cried silently the whole ride, replaying everything in my head.

The cheating. The lies. The terrifying stranger. The child inside me that I never asked for.

But it wouldn't be inside me for long.

I never consented to it. I didn't ask for this. So I'm getting rid of it.

I found myself at a nightclub. Why there? I didn't know. Maybe because I wanted to drown it all out.

I sat at the bar, head spinning. The bartender recognized me, but thankfully, he didn't fanboy. Just gave a respectful nod.

"What can I get you, Miss?"

"Something strong. Really strong," I said, voice brittle but determined.

He studied me, then nodded. A few minutes later, he returned with a glass of thick, dual-colored liquor.

I didn't ask what it was. I didn't care. I just needed it. Now.

But just as I brought the glass to my lips-it vanished.

I gasped.

The strange man was here again.

He downed the drink in one go, slammed the empty glass onto the counter, and glared at me like I'd just committed murder.

"What were you trying to do?" he growled.

I couldn't answer. My lips quivered. Fear warred with... something else. A strange fluttering. His scent... it was addictive. Dark. Expensive. Wild.

"You're trying to kill my baby, huh?" he hissed, leaning closer. "Good thing it's not some flimsy fetus. Booze won't do it. You'd need something stronger. Something life-threatening."

"Who... who are you?" I whispered. "What do you want from me? How did I... how did this even happen? We've never-"

"Alpha Braham," he said sharply.

My brain short-circuited.

Alpha?

Oh God, no.

Werewolves. He was a werewolf?

I didn't believe in their existence even though everyone else in the world said they were around us and lived amongst us.

It made sense now. The eyes. The strength. The aura.

They owned most of Chicago and New Orleans. Most people believed that. They mingled among us-but I had never believed or agreed with them. I was human. I liked being human and I didn't want anything with wolves.

Now I was apparently carrying one.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't even want to breathe.

Maybe if I just stopped...

"Breathe. Now," he snapped, gripping my hand.

Air rushed into my lungs like a dam breaking.

"Let me go..." I whimpered.

"Listen," he said through gritted teeth. "I didn't want this either. I needed a werewolf surrogate. Not some weak human. This disgusts me just as much as it disgusts you. But the child is alive. There's nothing we can do now. So don't even think about hurting it. You give birth, I pay you, and we never see each other again."

Terror gripped me.

But under the fear... that fluttering was still there. Warm. Pulling.

His scent. His presence. It was toxic and addictive.

"This isn't right," I whispered, tears spilling again. "I don't want this. I never... I haven't even had sex. And now I'm pregnant? I feel... cheated."

For the first time, he looked truly surprised.

His mouth twitched into something like a smile...if you squinted hard enough.

He leaned in, his breath brushing my cheek, eyes gleaming with something new. Something dark. Wicked.

"Are you indirectly asking me to be your first?" he murmured. "Because if so... I don't mind. I'd gladly take you up on the offer. Would you?"