Page 61 of The Alpha Wolf’s Secret Baby Boy

“Don’t you remember, Poppy?”

I shake my head even through the pain. “Where’s Daniel?”

“He’s fine, Poppy. You found him—”

Relief washes over me as I throw my head back into the pillow, tears slipping from the corners of my eyes.

“Is he hurt?”

“No. The witches didn’t touch him. Thank Goddess for that. When Damian—”

The moment Ingrid mentions his name, my chest tightens, my head throbbing violently now. Flickers of blurred images flash through my mind.

Running through the woods…

Getting ambushed by a group of hooded, sinister figures…

Something pricking the side of my neck before I blacked out…

Waking up in an old, abandoned warehouse and finding Daniel locked in one of the rooms…

Sensing Damian approaching and going out to call for his help, only to feel the claws of some ruthless, unseen force gripping me until I couldn’t stop my shift.

I gasp when I recall the horrified look in Damian’s eyes before he shifted and stood in front of me, growling at the other werewolves.

And I shut my eyes when I remember dealing the blow that knocked him out.

“No… No… I killed—”

“He’s still alive, Poppy,” Ingrid assures me, still hanging by the door as if she’s afraid I’ll hurt her, too.

I look up with tears clouding my vision as Ingrid goes on to explain everything that happened. After I attacked Damian, the wolves were able to capture me when I collapsed from the shock of what I’d done.

We’d been brought back to Cedar Valley, where Damian is recovering in the next room, and Daniel is safe with Luna Diane.

I probably lost my mother’s necklace out there…

“I don’t know what’s going on with me, Ingrid,” I sob, closing my eyes as my veins begin to feel like they’re burning. “I’m so glad they’re both okay. But I’m not, and I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

No matter how angry I’ve been at Damian, I’d never hurt him. Not like that.

Ingrid sighs. “Sister Aoife has run some tests on you. She believes that the dark witches poisoned you with something that has turned you rabid. The witches are working on a way—”

No… a dark, menacing voice bleats through my eardrums.

“No more witches!” I lash out abruptly, shocking myself at the pitch in my voice, but it feels uncontrollable.

Ingrid freezes.

Fear flashes across her face before she masks it with compassion, and seeing that fear directed at me tears another piece out of my heart.

Turning my face away in shame, I let more tears fall, feeling like I’m going insane.

“I’m sorry, Ingrid. I’m really sorry. Whatever happens, keep Daniel safe, okay?”

“Nothing will happen, Poppy. Everyone is working hard to find a way to reverse the poison. We’re not giving up on you.”

Words that should have been comforting feel like a heavy weight hanging on my shoulders, like I’m a burden to everyone around me, a threat to the ones I love.