Chapter 177: My Alpha

Perhaps it was premature, perhaps even recklessly foolish given the chaos erupting around us, but I felt it in my very bones. I wanted Magnus to be a father again. I wanted him to hold our baby in his massive hands from their very first day, to shower them with his warmth, to protect them, and to witness their first tentative steps. To hear their very first words spoken directly to him.

Those precious, irreplaceable milestones had been stolen from us with Matthias, stripped away by a cruel and unforgiving past. But nothing stood in the way of giving my mate another piece of our shared future. At that single thought, my heart swelled with a fierce, blinding hope, sweeping away every lingering doubt.

Then a sudden, violent spasm coiled through my lower abdomen. I locked my jaw so hard my teeth ground together, barely suppressing a scream in the middle of the kitchen. The pain was sharp, lancing through my core like white-hot needles, but through pure willpower, I held it in, my knuckles turning bone-white as I gripped the edge of the countertop.

My body was demanding him, completely deaf to any rational thought.

"I’m going upstairs. Matthias, listen to your grandfather," I rasped out, gently nudging my son toward a somber, deeply troubled Adam.

Turning on my heel, I practically ran from the kitchen, fully aware that I wouldn’t see them again today—and likely not tomorrow, either. As I stumbled down the mansion’s long, desolate corridors, my trembling fingers dialed Magnus’s number over and over, only to be met by the relentless automated voice declaring his phone out of reach.

A suffocating wave of panic rose within me. I knew with terrifying clarity that if this continued, I would burn alive. A brutal, agonizing ordeal awaited me; my awakened body would tear itself apart without the touch of my true mate.

My body had claimed its Alpha—it remembered every trace of him and craved him with a primal, desperate need.

Pushing through the heavy doors, I collapsed into our master bedroom. The room was rich with our intertwined scents, and only here, within this sanctuary, could I finally draw a ragged breath.

Yet the faint remnants floating in the air were nowhere near enough. The surging breeding call inside me screamed for the unadulterated purity of his scent. It demanded him, mercilessly clouding my mind and stripping away every human inhibition.

As if drawn by a trance, I inhaled deeply and surrendered to the ancient instinct pulling me toward his walk-in closet, where his scent was thickest, darkest, and most concentrated.

There had to be something in there to save me. I slid open the cabinet doors and stared, hypnotized, at a dark button-down shirt. He had worn it recently; the fabric would still be saturated with his potent pheromones. In that same breath, my own clothes began to burn against my skin, driving me to sheer madness. It was a primal, shameless desperation, reducing me to a wild creature stripped of all modesty.

Ripping off my shirt and flinging it onto the floor, I tore Magnus’s garment from its hanger and draped it over my bare shoulders. Wrapped in his sharp, intoxicatingly familiar scent, a fleeting wave of relief washed over me.

Warmth spread through my veins like liquid gold, yet it was a mere drop in an ocean of need. I frantically buried my face in his clothes, gathering every garment that carried even the faintest whisper of his scent into a desperate bundle against my chest.

Staggering into the adjoining bathroom without fully registering my own actions, I upended the heavy wicker hamper filled with Magnus’s freshly laundered shirts and trousers. The fabrics spilled across the cool tile floor with a soft rustle, immediately releasing his concentrated pheromones into the air until I could taste them on my tongue. His aura was so dominant, so overwhelming, that even a thorough wash couldn’t wash his presence from the threads.

Gathering the items with the strongest scent, I dragged the mound of clothes back into the bedroom, feeling a faint flicker of solace as his intoxicating aroma swelled around me. Reaching the massive bed, I collapsed onto the mattress in sheer exhaustion, burying my face deep into the soft pillow and clutching his garments close to build a primitive nest around myself. Where was my mate? Why wasn’t he here?

With every fleeting second, my human rationality eroded, surrendering to the starved instincts of my distinct, wolfish nature. My body burned and throbbed from deep within, as though wild tongues of flame were dancing along my exposed nerves—fire I had no desire to extinguish. I craved the brutal pressure of his heavy hands around my waist; I craved his ruthless mouth crushing against mine.

Bad wolf. To leave his defenseless mate utterly alone in such a fragile state...

I realized with a jolt of horror that these thoughts were no longer my own. This was pure, unadulterated instinct speaking.

I was drowning in a thick, sweet haze, trapped beneath an unbearable ache that permeated every inch of my body. A sharp, animal craving twisted me in half, leaving only one pulsing demand echoing against my temples: to be anchored in his massive, unyielding arms. To taste his lips. His absence was a physical agony.

Time lost all meaning, stretching into an agonizing blur. The rhythmic ticking of the wall clock scraped against my raw nerves until... until the quiet creak of the bedroom door cut through the silence.

And there he stood.

My Alpha.

Pushing up on trembling, unstable arms, I forced myself upright in the middle of the ruined bed, drowning in the pile of his clothes as I peered through the haze of fever at Magnus. He filled the doorway, his chest heaving with ragged, heavy breaths as if he had run across the entire city to reach me.

In the dim light, his gray eyes burned like molten silver, consuming me whole. His broad chest rose and fell rapidly beneath his shirt, and his scent... Goddess, his scent was overwhelming. It hung in the room—dense, intoxicating, and dangerous—pulling a taut, pulsing wire of tension between us.

Licking my parched, burning lips, I tasted a phantom sweetness on the tip of my tongue. Beneath his open shirt, my bare skin screamed for his touch, pleading for submission. Yet Magnus remained motionless, devouring me with a dark, possessive glare. He stood frozen, choosing this exact moment—when I needed him to survive—to hold back. Fool.

Leaning forward, I dug my palms firmly into the soft mattress, my nails catching in the sheet. If he wouldn’t take the first step, I would go to him. But before I could even shift my weight, a low, possessive growl tore from my chest—a sound so wild and dangerous I barely recognized it as my own.

"Magnus..." My voice broke, turning into a raspy, vibrating moan. "Come to me, my mate..."

Mine.

I closed my inflamed eyes for a fraction of a second. When I opened them, he was already right in front of me, having crossed the distance without making a sound. His massive, searing hand slid up my trembling shoulder, and with one swift motion, he stripped away his own shirt, which was barely clinging to my frame anyway. The fabric pooled onto the bed, a useless distraction discarded.

His hungry, predatory gaze instantly and mercilessly scorched my bare body, which was shivering with anticipation, leaving invisible burns across my skin. Inside, every fiber of my being sang, suffocating on a mixture of pure bliss and sweet agony. In that split second, I understood with absolute clarity that I never wanted him to look at anyone else this way for as long as I lived. Not at a single other female in this damned world. Never.

Because he belonged solely to me.