They’d been watching me. Fuck. Now there was no doubt these were poachers or someone sent by my Alpha father, and honestly, I didn’t know which was worse.
“Don’t think being part of this pack protects you,” one in blue said. “If anything, it puts a target on them as well. That rogue mate of yours…”
I didn’t argue with him that he was no longer rogue, that he was pack. It wouldn’t get me anywhere. I needed to listen and be smart. If I took too long my boss would come looking for me. At least that was what I told myself.
“Who are you?” I demanded. At this point I was buying time.
“You don’t need to know that,” the third one snapped.
I tried to figure out the best plan. Being pregnant would slow me down. While my phone was in my pocket, I couldn’t exactly dial it and ask for help without these assholes seeing me.
And did I want my pack to come? Wouldn’t that be putting them in danger? But also, we needed them, my young and I. If it wasjust me, I’d be fighting them, potentially getting stabby with my horn. But I had my baby to protect, and shifting was risky at this point in pregnancy, and fighting always resulted in blood.
“You need to come with us,” the one in the brown coat, who I was suspecting was the leader, said.
“I can’t. They’ll notice I’m gone at work and will call the cops.” I really wished I could determine if they were human or not. Shifters didn’t give a crap about police, but humans might.
“Well, if you don’t care if the cops come or not, I don’t care if your pack does. We’ll make sure none of them take their next breath.” He patted his hip, and I noticed a bulge for the first time.
He had a gun.
They weren’t fucking around.
“I can’t go now,” I said. “I have to go with you later.” Or never. “If I leave now, they’ll notice, and I believe you can take on the cops or my pack, but both at the same time?” I was grasping at anything that might get me out of here.
“You’re not fat, are you?” the third guy said, his eyes glued to my belly. “Hey, look! That’s not one too many donuts. There’s a baby in there.”
I wasn’t sure how they hadn’t seen it before, but them noticing fell into the worst-case scenario category.
“A baby unicorn.” The leader clapped. “Two for one.” He looked far too happy with himself. “I wonder how much a baby unicorn goes for.”
“Well, you’re not very smart, are you?” I retorted. “I’m here because of recessive genes. This is a cub. It’s worthless to you.”
To me, our baby was the most precious gift, but to a poacher? I was crossing my fingers they were nothing special. If they looked into my lie, they’d see that yes, I was here because of recessive genes. As long as they didn’t get to the healer, who’d said there was a pretty good chance our little one would be born a unicorn, too, they had no way of knowing that.
“Don’t lie to us,” the leader snarled.
“No, man, I don’t think he’s lying,” the second man said. “They did say something about recessive genes, and that’s why he was so valuable.”
They started arguing among themselves, and all I could think was that I had to protect this baby, I had to protect myself, I had to protect my co-workers, and I had to protect my pack… at all costs.
“I will come with you,” I said, interrupting them. “But later, under the condition that you leave the pack alone.”
I didn’t think they were going to allow that. But in the far-off distance, I heard somebody calling my name, and that was apparently the push they needed.
“Fine,” the leader said. “But youwillcome with us, or they will all die. Understood?”
“How will I know it’s time?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll know.”
And with that, they left me standing there by the river. My body collapsed onto the ground, my mind still not fully believing thatI’d made it out alive. I finally pulled myself together and stood up. I couldn’t let work see I was upset. Someone would call Bryden, and telling my mate what was happening wasn’t in my plans. Not yet, anyway. I needed to handle this myself because one wrong move and the entire pack could be decimated.
“Hey, sweetie,” I whispered to my belly. “I’m going to protect you. I promise. I’ll protect you if it’s the last thing I do.”
And it very well might be.
22
