CHAPTER SEVEN

Alex’s POV

 (…a night before the wedding)

"I’ll be there shortly. Make sure nothing bad happens to her. Do whatever it takes to keep her alive. I don’t care about the cost.”, he dropped the receiver in a hurry. 

He had spoken with the head chef, who picked Sherlyn’s call previously and warned her against answering his calls, in the future. Yet another call from Charlotte, but this time, he couldn’t ignore, unlike the last two times where she called about a strange dream and a threat note she received. She was in need of blood urgently and at the verge of loosing her life. None of the blood types in the blood bank was compatible with hers. He knew no family of hers while in the pack aside her foster aunt, but he hoped his blood would suffice, being a werewolf. Unfortunately for him, as he was about leaving, his father stood at the entrance of his room. He might have heard his conversation but he showed no expression. 

“Father?”, he said, stunned by his unexpected appearance.

“Yes, Xander”, the Alpha sighed, tapping his shoulders softly, “We should have a brief chat, don’t you think? Tomorrow, you become a complete werewolf—a true son.” An unmated werewolf in the region was seen as incomplete, inspite of whatever power they may possess.

Alex was in for a long ride. He had to leave that very moment but it was absolutely impossible. It was hard to choose between the available options. Sherlyn meant more than a lot to him, not to mention her critical state. The Alpha, on the other hand, trusted him so much that he couldn’t afford to expose his flaws—he wouldn’t spare him. They both sat in his room, the alpha sitting opposite him, on a deep blue armchair. 

“I’m sure you are aware of the responsibility ahead of you”, the Alpha began.

Alex felt his father’s words pricking his heart like sharp needles on a dry skin. Someone’s life depended on him and here he was, having a conversation that didn’t seem necessary. 

The alpha looked squarely on him, “As a man, and a soon-to-be Alpha, you can’t escape certain challenges that will test your respect and devotion to the pack. Such occasion is where you gain the pack’s submission to you. I must say, I’m so proud of how…”. A call interrupted what was becoming to look like a parting speech. 

Alex, afraid it might be Charlotte, hesitated in answering the phone. He could feel the goose bumps raised all over his body, but he was cautious to make sure it evaded the Alpha's notice. He kept his gaze on the Alpha, who waited for another bout of silence. 

He continued, 

“We often…” The call came in again. “You can have your call. It might be important”, the Alpha suggested, staring at the buzzing receiver. 

Alex adjusted towards the side drawer, hoping earnestly for the call to drop. What if he asks questions? What if he suspects him?—his heart raced in suppressed panic. He answered the phone with a neutral face, as he waited for the voice at the other end of the line.

“She has just two hours to live, Mr. Wills and it’s a boy”, Charlotte whimpered. Alex remained silent, as he listened, planning a convincible excuse for exiting the palace in a hurry. 

“Okay. That’s no problem at all… I’ll be there”, Alex responded in a flat tone, hanging up without waiting for a reply.

“Father, I need to attend to an urgent crisis at the borders”, Alex lied, giving no room for the Alpha to throw a question first.

“How urgent? That’s strange. I received no such call. You need to prepare for tomorrow’s ceremony. Some of our guests would arrive tonight. I’ll send a message to the pack’s Beta. He should…”

 “No, father, I’ll rather handle this”, he interrupted. It might be more complex than it sounds. I wouldn’t want anything to disrupt tomorrow’s occasion”, Alex protested, unable to predict the Alpha’s next reaction. 

“Hmm. Your devotion to the pack is something I’ll always be proud of. Run along then”, the Alpha got up to leave.

Alex was surprised but thankful. He didn’t expect to convince him so quickly. 

“But, you must go with Harry and one other hunter”, the Alpha added and left. 

That was another task for him. He had to think of a way to discard them on the way without raising an alarm.  

He sat at the passenger’s seat, while Harry drove beside a fierce-looking hunter, who kept sniffing the air for rogue blood. 

They got to the region’s border and nothing seemed out of place, as expected. 

“I think it was a false alarm”, Harry said finally.

“Pull over here”, Alex commanded. It was the same spot a rogue attacked Sherlyn previously.

“We can’t always be sure. They might be lurking around somewhere”, Alex added. He stepped out into the orange rays of the setting sun. “Cover this area while I check ahead”, he pointed towards his left sides and headed forwards on foot. 

He moved further down the road till he lost sight of the guards and transformed into his wolf form, as he dashed towards the warp hole. The leaves rustled behind him. His plan worked—a clean escape. 

He arrived at the hospital and asked for Sherlyn’s ward, where he met Charlotte pacing at the corridor,

“Thank goodness, Mr. Wills. Just in time. We’ve been waiting since forever. Her condition has gotten worse.” she spoke breathlessly, looking worn out and devoid of sleep. 

“Can I see her, at least”, Alex asked, trying to ignore the possibility of losing his love to the grip of death. 

“I don’t think there’s time for that, besides, she’s been moved to ICU. The transfusion should have been ready an hour ago. Come along”

They met with one of the specialist doctors who handed Alex over to a nurse that withdrew and tested his blood in a small room. He had prominent veins—the collection was seamless. 

“It matched her type. We’ll proceed with the transfusion”, the doctor on duty reported to them after few minutes, as they sat at the lobby. 

Alex anxiously asked, 

“When will she regain consciousness?” 

“We can’t say for certain Mr. Wills. All we can do is hope for improvements. If you’ll excuse me”, the doctor left immeditely. 

“What about the child?” Alex asked Charlotte.

“He’s at the NICU”

They got to the next corridor at the opposite end of Sherlyn’s ward. Alex looked through the glass window. It was easy to spot his son. His son! Fatherhood had found him, without prior announcement—a secret he must keep for the rest of his miserable life from a woman he felt nothing for. The baby took on the hair color of his mother, a noticeable feature—sleeping cozily in his cot, with no idea of the critical state of his mother.

“Her labor was spectacular”, Charlotte commented as they both stare at the little red-hair, “He dropped out of her easily, with no pressure”, she looked up at Alex, who had no idea of the birthing process of a woman. 

“She’s a strong woman”, Alex replied hazily. 

The thoughts of how to be a good father to a child that’ll never be accepted, how to pretend to love his new mate from tomorrow onwards and how to get home before things got out of hands, ladened his heart. 

A sudden thought crossed his mind. Whose last name would his child bare? His name or his mother’s?

“What would you call the child”, Charlotte asked, as though she heard his internal dialogues. 

He hadn’t thought of a first name. It never occurred to him. 

“Xavier”, he replied randomly. “Xavier Wills”.

“Such lovely name. When would you move in with her?” Charlotte inquired further.

The question irked Alex as a deep furrow appeared immediately on his forehead, 

“I employed you to take care of Sherlyn and the baby and not to ask foolish questions, Charlotte”. 

Immediately he realized he was far away from home and no one knew his title in the human world. Charlotte’s cheeks had assumed a flush of red. 

“I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry. I don’t appreciate questions about my private affairs.”, he apologized.

“I understand, Mr. Wills”, she replied, moving away from his side. 

Alex strolled out of the hospital. He always hated the smell that hung around the premise. 

It was getting dark and Sherlyn was yet to wake. He approached a nearby kiosk where he bought a pack of cigarette—his run-to habit during a total mental block. He drew in so heavily, watching the crowd moving in their numbers. After a while, he discarded the cigarette stick, burying it with the tip of his shoes—after a satisfactory exhale.  

He approached the hospital but a shadow kept trailing behind him. He had noticed it since he arrived at the hospital. He looked back at intervals only to find unbothered citizens of New York going about their business.

As he was about approaching the stairs that led to the revolving door, a cold palm clasped around his wrist.