Page 58 of The Alpha Wolf’s Secret Baby Boy

The world around me slowly changes as the dense forest gives way to cracked roads swallowed by weeds and crumbling buildings left to rot beneath the weight of time. The stale scent of dust hangs in the air, mixing with rust and old concrete as the outskirts of Fayetteville emerge from between the trees.

The abandoned town sits exactly as I remember it. Lifeless. Forgotten. Haunted by memories I wish had stayed buried. That sentiment will echo through the entire Rosethorn Alpha Council, who believed the threat was ended when we infiltrated Jackson’s operations.

My paws skid across the broken asphalt as I round the final bend, and the warehouse comes into view, my blood turning cold.

Every muscle in my body locks.

The enormous steel structure stands exactly where Jackson left it after the rogues fled and moved their operations, its rusted walls weathered by years of neglect, broken windows staring back at us like hollow eyes. The heavy loading doors still hang crooked on their hinges, the faded markings barely visible beneath layers of dirt.

There’s no movement. No guards. No rogues or witches.

What if Aoife was wrong?

The warriors gather behind me, equally stunned into silence.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Connor murmurs through the mind link. “I thought Aoife knew what she was doing.”

Flynn’s voice comes through next. “She knows what she’s doing,” he defends the witch. “This could be a trap.”

Dorian shakes his dark wolf head. “Jackson abandoned this place months ago,” he says, pacing slowly across the cracked concrete. “Why would anyone come back?”

My ears flatten against my head as I survey the building.

“This isn’t the rogues,” Flynn growls lowly. “The corruption in Fort Smit…the witches…none of it matches what Jackson was capable of.”

Their words barely register, because I don’t care who is responsible.

I don’t care why they’re here.

All I care about is that Poppy is inside.

Her scent pours from the warehouse entrance so strongly that it smothers everything else, wrapping itself around my senses until it becomes impossible to think about anything but reaching her.

Without waiting for a signal, or for anyone else to move, I launch myself toward the entrance, my shoulder crashing through the warped wooden door with enough force to send splintered timber exploding across the warehouse floor.

The stale air inside assaults my senses, my nostrils flaring. Dust. Blood. Decay.

But beneath it all is the one scent that can weaken me.

Poppy.

“Poppy!” I roar through the mind link, sprinting deeper into the darkness.

The cavernous warehouse is nothing like I remember it. Where the smell of rogue wolves once occupied the building, strange symbols have been carved into the concrete pillars, black candles melted into uneven puddles across the floor, and thick vines of corruption creep over the walls like living veins.

Then I see her, standing perfectly still in the center of the warehouse.

“Poppy...” I breathe as relief crashes through me so violently my knees almost give way.

She’s alive.

Her back is toward me, shoulders rising and falling with labored breaths, long blonde hair hanging in tangled waves down her back.

I take a cautious step forward.

“Poppy…” I call out when I shift into human form, wanting nothing more than to wrap my arms around her.

She slowly turns around, and my heart nearly stops.