Chapter 47
Chapter 47
Anika:
Hunter has to be out of his damn mind.
First, he jabs me with some mystery drug, kidnaps me, drags me all the way here-only to tell me I can’t leave unless he says so?
Yeah. Definitely insane.
I’m still trying to process the ridiculous words being spewed out of his mouth, when he suddenly claps his hands twice.
And then, The door swings open with a sharp bang.
Instinctively, I step back as two guards stride in.
My stomach drops. They’re not alone.
Trailing right behind them is…
Beatrice?
I stumble back another step, my pulse spiking.
Oh, god.
“H… Hunter, what is this?” My voice cracks, the words tasting like fear and anger all at once.
The guards exchange a quick glance before slipping out, their heavy boots echoing against the floor. Within seconds, the door shuts, and it’s just the three of us.
“Look, I didn’t mean to drag you here against your will, okay?” Hunter takes a slow step forward, his gaze locked on mine. “Yeah, I killed Dylan when he tried to take you. But I couldn’t just leave you there… I needed to clear some things with you since I know you already hate me with every bone in your body.”
My jaw tightens until my teeth ache. “Of course I do.”
“Right,” he says, and for some reason, he smiles.
The audacity of this man.
“You believe I tried to kill you and… our baby, don’t you?”
“I don’t believe,” I bite out, throwing my hands into the air. “I know you did. What the hell even is this, Hunter? Trying to finish what you started?”
“No, Anika.”
The voice doesn’t come from him.
My head jerks toward Beatrice. She takes a shaky step forward before dropping to her knees, the sound of them hitting the ground sharp in the silence. Her hands clasp together, trembling.
“I know you resent us for what happened that night,” she says, her voice breaking around the words. “But I… I should be the one you hate, not Hunter. He never tried to kill you. That night…” She swallows hard, eyes glistening. “I… I was the one who texted him, asking him to come to my room. He wasn’t even there when it happened.”
I blink. “W… what?”
“I’m deeply sorry, Anika,” Beatrice continues, inching closer until she’s at my feet, her fingers curling around my leg. “P… please. Find it in your heart to forgive me. I… I still love you. I want you back. I’m sor-"
“No. No!” I stagger back two steps, shaking my head violently.
And then the memories slam into me like a tidal wave-
The way I’d rejected Hunter that night.
The terror of running for my life.
The moment I almost lost both myself and my baby in one breath.
My throat tightens, and I don’t even notice the tears spilling down my cheeks until I taste salt on my lips. “Why? W… why did you want me dead? I did nothing to you!”
“I know, and I’m s..sorry.” Her voice cracks, and she starts to sob. “I’m sorry, Anika. I was decei—”
“Stop! Stop!!” My scream rips through the air, raw and shaking. “Get away from me! I hate you! I fúcking hate you!!!”
I try to blink the tears away, but it’s useless. They just keep falling, faster and heavier, until they blur everything in front of me.
Hunter:
My chest tightens the moment I see the tears streaming down Anika’s cheeks. It shatters me.
I know how deep that pain cuts. God, I know. Hearing the woman you’ve spent years trying to win over… the mother-in-law whose approval you’ve begged for… admit she wanted you dead? And then almost losing your baby on top of it? I understand exactly why her world feels like it’s collapsing.
That’s why I move without thinking. My hand clamps around my mother, yanking her up from the floor. I shove her toward the door.
Days ago, I’d threatened her. Told her if she didn’t convince Anika that I had no part in what she believed, she’d regret it. But now? She’s only made things worse. Much worse.
“Don’t show your face here again,Mum.” I growl, shoving her out completely and slamming the door behind her.
When I turn back, Anika’s already on the bed, her small frame shaking, tears still spilling down her cheeks like they have no end.
Oh, God…
I cross the room in seconds, sinking down beside her. My arms wrap around her before I can stop myself, pulling her firmly against my chest.
“It’s okay, Anika. I’m sorry… this is all my fault,” I murmur in a low voice. I half-expect her to shove me away like she did the first time.
But she doesn’t.
Instead, she clings tighter, her sobs breaking harder against my chest.
I thread my fingers gently through her hair, stroking in slow and steady motions. “I’m hurt by the loss of our baby too, Anika. I really am.”
The guilt burns hot in my chest. This is all on me. Hell, I didn’t even know we had a child—only to push her away, pull someone else into my arms, and threaten her with divorce?
No. That was beyond stupid. It was unforgivable.
“We can start over,” I say softly, still combing my fingers through her hair. “You and me. I’ll send my mother away if that’s what you want. I’d never hurt you again. And… we can have babies. A beautiful girl and a boy, just like you always wanted.”
She freezes.
Then she jerks upright, her tear-streaked face tilting toward me. Her eyes—red, swollen—still manage to burn. “Seriously?”
I nod, excitement already sparking in my chest. “Of course, Nika. There’s nothing I want more than to—”
“Can you just fúcking stop!” Her tone cuts through me, her expression hardening.“Stop!”
“W… what?”
“You had your chance, Hunter. And you blew it.” Her voice wavers, but her eyes stay fixed on mine. “So forgive me if I say I don’t feel an ounce of love for you anymore.”
“Anika—”
“You opened our marriage, remember?” she snaps. “Fine. Maybe you didn’t want me or my baby dead. But you made it crystal clear you didn’t love me anymore.”
“I know,” I say, my voice low. “And I’m sorry. I was a fòol.”
She sniffles and shakes her head. “No. You don’t get to be sorry. I’m fúcking tired, Hunter. I’m leaving this pack right now. Call Matteo. I need him.”
“I’m the one you need, not Matteo!” I fire back, desperation creeping into my voice.
“No. I need Matteo. He’s the one I love, not you!”
“He hasn’t even marked you yet!” I snap, shooting to my feet. “I… I can make you my chosen mate, and we’ll always—”
She lifts her hand, cutting me off cold.
Before I can say another word, she grabs the edge of the fabric covering her neck and yanks it down in one swift motion.
My breath catches.
Oh my god.
There it is. His mark. Clear. Permanent.
That son of a bítch already marked her.