Chapter 4 The Alpha's Returns

CHAPTER FOUR: The Alpha Returns

The pain tore through me like lightning searing, relentless, all-consuming.

I screamed into the thick air of the cabin, my voice raw as my body surged and buckled under the pressure of labour. My fingers clutched the wooden headboard so hard my knuckles turned white, and the old oak creaked under my grip.

Through the air, I smelled it.

Him, "Robert"

The scent of winter storm and firewood. Power, rage, ownership.

My heart nearly stopped. Panic lanced through me, sharper than any contraction.

"He's close," I choked out between ragged breaths. "Robert is here"

Michael crouched beside the bed, his sleeves rolled up, hands steady despite the storm rolling outside and the even greater storm brewing inside me. His expression darkened my words, but he didn't waver.

"We're not going to panic," he said, voice low and commanding. "We're going to deliver this baby. Then we'll deal with Robert.

Another contraction struck, doubling me over.

My cry ripped through the cabin, raw and desperate.

Ahhhhhhhh

Michael, my belly hurt.....

Clara said with tears.

Michael moved fast, positioning himself between my legs with practised calm. "Breathe, Clara. You're close. I can see the head."

Tears leaked down my cheeks. "I can't"

"Yes, you can," he snapped gently, his voice cutting through the panic. "You've survived him. You've survived the wilderness. You're stronger than this."

I hold on to his words like a lifeline.

Outside, thunder rolled over the mountains. The windows rattled, the wind howled.

"Now," he said, tone sharpening. "Push."

Clara bore down, every muscle in my body burning with the effort. The pain cleaved through me like an axe, and for a moment, the world went dark.

It is a full moon

"I've got her," Michael said. Awe and emotion were tangled in his voice. "She's here."

A baby's wail pierced the room sharp, alive, commanding.

I collapsed back into the mattress, sobbing. My chest heaved as I struggled to process what had just happened. My daughter. Ours Safe. Breathing.

"She's perfect," Michael whispered, wrapping the squirming, red-faced newborn in a soft towel. "Clara, she's beautiful."

He laid her gently on my chest, and I felt her warmth against my skin. Her tiny fists curled near her face, her scent-new, soft, not yet shaped by time-bloomed in the air.

And there it was.

The bond.

My breath hitched.

I didn't want it. Didn't want his presence in the curve of her cheek, the scent of his lineage buried in her skin.

But I did.

Tears blurred my vision. I stroked her fine hair with trembling fingers. "Hey, little one," I whispered. "I've waited so long for you."

A sound snapped us back to reality.

Three hard knocks on the cabin door.

Michael straightened like a predator, shoulders rolling back, every muscle in his body coiled. He crossed the room in three long strides, sniffing the air.

His jaw tightened. "He's here."

My throat closed. I clutched my daughter tighter, shielding her instinctively with my body.

Michael turned to me, his voice calm but firm. "Go. Now. Take her to the cellar."

"No," I whispered. "He'll kill you. He's not just here to talk, he's tracking."

"I can hold him off,"

Micheal said

"There's a hidden compartment behind the wine rack. You'll be safe there."

"Michael"

He crossed to me, cupped my cheek with his blood-warmed hand, and looked into my eyes.

"Trust me, Clara."

Outside, the knocks came again this time louder, more deliberate.

A command, not a request.

"I'll come back for you," he added softly. "But if I don't run, run far and don't look back."

Tears spilt freely now. "Be careful."

He bent down and pressed a kiss to my daughter's forehead. Then another to mine.

And just like that, he turned toward the door.

I ran.

Holding my baby close, I slipped through the back hallway, heart slamming in my ribs. My legs ached, still weak from labour, but I kept moving. I found the small cellar door near the pantry and pushed it open, descending carefully into the cool dark.

Dust and wine and old wood filled the air.

I reached the shelf Michael had described and pushed. The wine rack creaked, then gave way to a narrow, darkened space behind it. A makeshift bolt slid shut behind me, muffling the sounds from above.

I sank to the floor, my daughter tucked against my chest, her small body rising and falling with shallow breaths.

The front door opened.

I heard it even through the floorboards. The creak. The pause.

And then Robert's voice was smooth, sharp as a blade dipped in honey.

"Hello, cousin."

I stiffened.

The sound of that voice, so familiar, so hated, curled down my spine like ice water. My Omega instincts flared, heart pounding so hard I thought I might pass out.

Above me, the tension shifted.

Michael didn't respond right away.

"I see you haven't forgotten your manners," Robert continued, his tone almost amused. "Letting a guest stand in the cold? Tsk."

"I'm not your pack anymore," Michael said flatly.

"No," Robert said.

"But you're still my blood. And blood leads to... interesting reunions."

Footsteps. Heavy. Confidence.

Robert was inside.

I curled tighter into the wall, pressing my body around my daughter protectively. I tried to muffle her soft breaths, to quiet my own.

"I smelled something on the wind," Robert said, voice moving further into the cabin. "Something sweet. Familiar. Something I haven't scented in years."

He was circling the room like a predator sniffing out prey.

"You took something from me, Michael," he said.

"Or maybe she came to you on her own. Either way, I'm here to collect."

"You don't own her," Michael growled.

Michael laughed low, dark, and cruel. "She's mine, cousin. She always was."

"No. She left you. Ran from you. That bond broke the moment you betrayed her."

Silence.

Then something crashed, wood splintering, a table upended. My daughter stirred in my arms, lips puckering in protest.

No no, please not now...

"Where is she?" Robert's voice was no longer playful. It was a snarl now, pure Alpha fury.

"She's here.

I can smell her.

"I feel her."

"She gave birth tonight," Michael said unflinchingly. "Your child is here. But you're not taking them."

That silence again. Charged. Ticking like a live wire.

"She's in labour," Robert repeated, slowly.

"She bore my child. And you think you'll keep them from me?"

The air shifted feral, violent. Robert was unleashing his dominance. The house groaned with it. My breath caught as it pressed down on my senses, triggering a wave of nausea.

But Michael roared back.

The clash of two Alphas shook the cabin above me.

I heard the struggle. Furniture crashing. Growls.The sound of flesh against flesh, the thud of bodies slamming into walls.

My daughter whimpered.

Tears spilt down my cheeks as I pressed my lips to her forehead. "Shh, baby. Stay with me. Just breathe."

A loud crash then silence.

I held my breath.

Footsteps moved slowly above, deliberate... searching.

The false wall creaked.

No.

No.

I backed up into the narrowest corner of the cellar, trembling. There was nowhere left to run.

The latch on the wine rack shifted.

A scent.

And my baby cried out.