Chapter 69 Scheming
Ben stood abruptly, the chair scraping back with a harsh screech on the concrete floor. He started pacing the room, boots thudding dully, his breath coming in short bursts. "This is fucked up. I knew Alexander had a big secret, something dark, something that made him untouchable. But this? A monster? If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, the way he... changed, fur, claws, the howl, I wouldn't believe it if anyone told me. Werewolves? Actual werewolves?"
He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots, face contorting in disbelief. His voice rose, echoing off the stone walls. "And those things outside, packs? What the hell is this, some cult? A hallucination? This can't be real. It can't."
I watched him, the room's dim light casting shadows that made his features sharper, more unhinged. The safe house was furnished for survival, bunks with neatly folded blankets, shelves stocked with canned food and water bottles, a small bathroom door ajar revealing a sink and toilet. Everything practical, no frills. But Ben's pacing made it feel smaller, the air thicker.
He stopped, turning to me with wild eyes. "Say something! You knew, didn't you? That's why you weren't scared. You knew he was... that."
The bond tugged again, Alexander's fury spiking, a flash of pain through it that made me wince. He was fighting. Hurt?. I stood, ignoring Ben, and walked past him to another door I guessed was the kitchen. It was small, functional, with a fridge, sink, and cabinets. I opened the fridge, the cool air washing over my face, and grabbed a water bottle, the plastic cold in my hand. I drank deeply, the water soothing my parched throat, but it did nothing for the ache in my chest.
Ben followed, hovering in the doorway. "Maddie, talk to me. This is fucked up. We need to get out of here, what if those wolf break in here, and call the police or whatever the fuck that will come help.This can't be real. It can't. I wish I had my phone to record this, it'd be an interesting news headline: "Billionaire CEO Turns Wolf !"
I set the bottle down with a soft thunk, the water sloshing inside. "Stop scheming for a moment," I snapped, voice sharper than I'd intended, the words bursting out like steam from a pressure cooker. Does it look like the police can help us? Think about surviving. Can't you see how serious this is?"
He stared at me, mouth opening and closing, the shock from seeing Alexander shift still etched on his face. For once, he had no retort. I walked past him again, pushing open another door. It was a room, simple with a bunk bed, a small lamp, and a chair. I sank onto the lower bunk, the mattress thin but welcoming, the blanket rough under my fingers. The safe room's silence was absolute now, just the faint hum of the ventilation and Ben's heavy breathing from the main area.
I lay back, staring at the concrete ceiling, the lamp's glow casting faint patterns like stars in a cave. Alexander. The thought consumed me, worrying gnawing like a living thing. The bond pulsed with his fury, flashes of pain and triumph as the fight raged above. Ben's pacing resumed in the main room, thud, thud, thud, a rhythmic reminder of the mess we were in. But my thoughts drowned it out. The pregnancy. And now this, pack war, rivals at the door. The awakening stirred inside me, fur and claws lurking just beneath the surface, but I pushed it down. Not now. Not here.
Sleep came slowly, fitful, the bond's distant echoes lulling me into uneasy dreams.
The voices pulled me from sleep like hands dragging me from deep water, muffled at first, then sharpening into clarity as my heightened senses kicked in. Alexander's low rumble, Ben's high-pitched stammering. I blinked, the concrete ceiling above me coming into focus under the dim glow of the lamp, the air still cool and musty with that underground tang of stone and stale ventilation. My body ached from the thin mattress, the blanket twisted around my legs, but the bond in my chest hummed with relief, Alexander was here. Alive. The fight must be over.
How long had I slept? Hours, maybe, exhaustion, the awakening's overload had crashed over me like a wave. I sat up slowly, the bunk creaking beneath me, the safe room's silence broken only by the voices from the main area. My stomach growled softly, the hunger a constant companion now, but I pushed it aside, swinging my legs over the edge. The floor was cold under my slippers, the chill seeping up my calves as I padded to the door.
Ben's voice rose, frantic, disbelieving. "What the hell is going on? Are you human? How did you turn into a wolf? Tell me!"
I stepped out, the control panel's red glow casting eerie highlights on the table and chairs. They all turned, Alexander, Rafe, Ben. Alexander's eyes locked on mine, dark and intense. He was fine, bloodstained sweater torn at the sleeve, a shallow cut on his cheek already healing, but fine. My throat tightened, a rush of emotion flooding me, relief so sharp it hurt. I wanted to run to him, bury my face in his chest, feel his arms around me, but Ben was there, watching. I could only look, holding his gaze, the unspoken words hanging between us.
Alexander moved first, surprising me, crossing the room in two strides, his arms wrapping around me in a tight embrace. His scent enveloped me, pine, sweat, blood, but underneath, the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against my cheek. I melted into it, my hands fisting in his sweater, the fabric rough and damp. It lasted a few seconds, eternal, needed, but Ben cleared his throat, loud and deliberate.
"Really? Even in my presence?" Ben said, voice laced with disdain.
Alexander pulled back slightly, his hands lingering on my arms, eyes searching mine for a moment longer. Rafe interrupted, stepping forward, his face grim, a fresh scar across his forearm glistening. "We need to go back to the estate. The fight's over, for now."
Ben exhaled, shoulders slumping. "Thank goodness. I can't imagine staying here longer with... monsters above us."