Page 37 of The Alpha Wolf’s Secret Baby Boy

One of Dorian’s soldiers thought he saw something last night and followed the smell of sulfur and decay well beyond their borders, when he was attacked.

Though he’s still alive, the injured soldier needed to be wheeled in for the meeting, just so we can see the extent of the threat, I’m guessing.

I don’t like it; I don’t like that something wrong is going on here. Not just because of my brother and his family, but because I brought Poppy here, to the heart of danger.

If only she hadn’t been so adamant to come back for her things…

Perhaps I need to show her what’s happening. Most of Nightclaw remains in the dark about the recent developments, because Dorian doesn’t want to cause a stir. Not when he’s only been back for a few months after being kidnapped.

The worry is written all over his face as he stands at the front of the boardroom table and addresses the council members who’ve gathered here today. Only Simon hasn’t arrived yet, but we’re hoping he brings answers when he comes.

Dorian clears his throat, the sound immediately silencing the murmurs around the table as all eyes turn to him.

“I know everyone is waiting to hear Simon’s findings,” he begins, his voice steady despite the exhaustion weighing heavily beneath it. “But before he gets here, there’s something you all need to see.”

He gestures with a nod toward the wounded soldier in the wheelchair. The sight alone is enough to make the council fall silent.

He looks terrible.

His skin is pale, beads of sweat clinging to his forehead despite the cool air inside the meeting hall. Thick bandages wrap around his shoulder and chest, but what catches my attention is the fact that he shouldn’t still be in a wheelchair.

Werewolves heal. Even severe wounds begin knitting together within hours. Yet this man looks as though he’s only getting worse.

Dorian steps beside him, resting a reassuring hand on the back of the chair.

“This is Ethan,” he says to the council. “He was patrolling the northern border last night when he picked up an unfamiliar scent.”

Dorian nods toward him. “Tell them what happened, Ethan.”

Ethan swallows hard before speaking. “I thought it was a rogue,” he says hoarsely. “The scent was…strange. Sulfur. Rot. Something I’d never smelled before.”

His fingers grip the armrests until his knuckles pale. “I tracked the scent beyond the border. The further I went, the quieter everything around me became.” His gaze drifts toward the floor as though he’s reliving the memory. “No birds. No insects. Nothing.”

A shiver runs down my spine.

“The trees...” he continues softly, “...were dying. Leaves falling right off the branches. Grass turning black beneath my paws.”

Several council members exchange uneasy looks. “And then what happened?” Alpha Theodore asks with a tight frown.

“I saw someone standing between the trees.”

The room goes silent until Alpha Cyrus asks, “Who was it?”

Ethan shakes his head slowly. “I don’t know. They wore a black cloak with the hood pulled low. Their face was hidden behind some kind of mask.”

“What kind of mask?” Flynn asks.

“I couldn’t tell. It happened too fast.” His breathing grows uneven, and he turns a hesitant glance at Dorian. “I called out and demanded they identify themselves, but they never spoke.”

A heavier silence settles over the room.

“They just…lifted their hand.” His eyes squeeze shut. “The ground beneath me exploded. Roots burst out of the earth and wrapped around my legs before I could shift.” He instinctively reaches toward the bandages covering his ribs. “Then this black…smoke…” He shakes his head. “No…not smoke.” His brows furrow as he struggles to find the words. “It was like shadows, crawling over my skin.”

My eyes meet Dorian’s as dread fills my gut—the same dread in his eyes.

“I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe,” Ethan continues, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. “It felt like something was draining the life out of me.”

The room remains deadly quiet.