Chapter 18 Lina
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Lina
Alone with my babies in a stranger’s house, I tried to keep my eyes open through sheer force of will.
The reality of our situation kept hitting me in waves: I’d been kidnapped.
Actually kidnapped by a man claiming to work for wildlife control who was definitely a werewolf.
I was too weak to run, stuck in some bachelor pad in Werewolf Town with my two four-year-olds, and the asshole who’d knocked me up was on his way.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
What would he think when he saw them? Would he recognize himself in Rowan’s gray eyes, in the stubborn set of Thea’s jaw? Would he do the math and realize what I’d hidden from him?
I’d never wanted him to find out about them. Not after what he’d done. Not after he’d made it clear I meant nothing to him. These were my babies, mine alone, and he didn’t deserve to even breathe the same air as them.
“Mama’s really sick,” Rowan whispered to his sister, his little hand pressed against my burning forehead. The kid had turned into a tiny nurse, constantly checking my temperature with those serious eyes.
“The man will help,” Thea insisted with the kind of certainty only a four-year-old could muster. She’d arranged her stuffed animals in what she called a ‘healing circle’ around me, Mr. Unicorn standing guard. “Noah said he would fix you.”
Noah. Right. The werewolf who’d manhandled me into his car and brought me here against my will. Such a trustworthy source of information.
I forced myself to focus through the fever haze, studying the room for potential exits or weapons.
Photos lined the mantel - three young men who looked enough alike to be brothers.
One who looked exactly like Noah with gray eyes, then a teenager Noah with the same light green eyes, and.
.. him. Younger, smiling in a way I’d never seen, but unmistakably the man who’d shattered my world.
Bookshelves filled one wall, a mix of classics and werewolf-themed titles that would have been funny if I wasn’t dying.
The furniture was comfortable but basic, a bachelor’s attempt at making a house a home.
It smelled of pine and a wild scent, probably eau de werewolf or whatever these people naturally emanated.
I needed to get up. Needed to get my kids out of here before he arrived. We could... what? Stumble three feet before I collapsed? Hitchhike back to Pine Valley while I was actively turning into a rabid monster? Great plan, Winters.
But I had to try. Using the couch arm for support, I pushed myself upright. The room immediately started spinning, my vision blurring at the edges. The poison burned through my veins with sadistic glee, reminding me that my body was no longer taking orders from my brain.
“Mama, no!” Both twins rushed to steady me as my legs buckled. “You need to rest!”
“Can’t rest,” I mumbled, gripping their small shoulders. “Need to... need to protect you.”
“It’s okay, Mama,” Rowan said, displaying far too much wisdom for someone who still needed help tying his shoes. “This place feels safe.”
Safe. My dying ass it was safe.
“Nothing about this is safe, baby. Nothing.”
But I collapsed back onto the couch anyway, my body vetoing any escape attempts. Fuck. I wasn’t going anywhere with my body in this state. The twins curled up against me, and I held them as tightly as my weakening arms allowed. Whatever happened next, they needed to know they were loved.
“Mama?” Thea’s voice pulled me from my fevered thoughts. “I’m still hungry.”
Still hungry. Right. Kids needed food. That was a thing mothers provided. I was a mother. Therefore, I needed to provide food. The logic was sound even if my body violently disagreed.
“Kitchen,” I managed, forcing myself upright again. “Let’s find you more food.”
It took me an embarrassingly long time to make it the ten feet to Noah’s kitchen, using walls and furniture for support while the twins flanked me nervously.
The simple act of opening the refrigerator felt monumental.
Making a peanut butter sandwich required the kind of concentration I’d previously reserved for tax forms.
“I can do it,” Thea offered, watching me fumble with the jar lid.
“No, baby. Mama’s got it.” I did not, in fact, have it. But I managed to construct two sandwiches that vaguely resembled food before my legs started giving serious warning signals.
I slid down to sit on a chair, the twins sat next to me, eating their sandwiches without complaint while I fought to stay conscious.
Such good kids. So patient with their dying mother.
They deserved better than this, better than being orphaned at four because their mom got attacked by a rabid werewolf.
“Mama?” Thea climbed into my lap after finishing her sandwich, her small face serious. “You won’t leave us, won’t you?”
The question hit harder than the fever. Leave them? I’d claw my way back from death itself before I’d leave them.
“No, baby. I won’t. Never-” I tried to say more but the words tangled, the fever stealing my voice along with everything else.
Rowan took my hand, his gray eyes too understanding. “It’s okay, Mama. We know.”
I wanted to cry but even tears required energy I didn’t have. My babies were comforting me while I died in a stranger’s kitchen. Parent of the year award, coming right up.
Car doors slammed outside, the sound reverberating through my skull.
Rowan perked up immediately, his little nose twitching. “He’s here. The helping man is here.”
Footsteps on the porch made my heart race despite my body’s failing systems. Heavy, measured steps I recognized even after all this time. My traitorous heart warmed at the sound before my brain kicked in with a helpful reminder of what an absolute bastard he was.
My body chose that moment to completely give out. I couldn’t stay upright, so I hit the floor hard, sliding sideways from the chair, my head bouncing off the tile with a crack that made stars explode across my vision.
“Mama!” Both twins shrieked, their small hands reaching for me as tears started flowing. Rowan was crying openly, something he rarely did, while Thea grabbed my hand with both of hers.
I pulled them closer with strength I didn’t know I had left. “Stay with Mama,” I whispered, needing them close, needing to protect them from what was coming.
The door opened and someone ran toward us. Heavy footsteps, that familiar scent of pine and rain, and suddenly there he was.
Knox. Matthias. The liar who’d shattered my world kneeling beside us on the kitchen floor.
He looked older, exhausted in a way that went bone deep. But I could see what I’d been too naive to notice before - the predatory grace in his movements, the inhuman stillness when he stopped moving. He was a werewolf. Had always been a werewolf. And I’d been too stupid and horny to notice.
He froze completely when he saw us. His gray eyes moved from my dying body to the children pressed against my sides. His nostrils flared, taking in their scent, and I saw the exact moment recognition hit him.
His face crumbled. His hands started shaking. He looked at them with an expression of devastation that made me want to claw his eyes out.
“Lina,” he breathed, voice rough with emotion. “Baby, I-”
Baby? Baby? He did not just call me baby after what he’d done.
I’d thought I could do this. Thought I could let him help me for their sake.
But seeing him there, looking at MY babies with wonder and regret, hearing him use endearments he’d lost the right to, the memories from that morning crashed over me.
His cold eyes. His cruel words. The way he’d reduced me to nothing.
Rage gave me strength the fever had stolen.
“Get out,” I rasped, the words scraping my throat raw. “Get out!”
But he was already moving forward, desperation clear in every line of his body. His hands reached out, whether for me or the twins I didn’t know and didn’t care.
“No,” I snarled, trying to shield them with my body even as black spots danced in my vision. “You don’t get to look at them. You don’t get to save me. You don’t get anything from us!”
He jerked back as if I’d slapped him, but his eyes stayed locked on the twins. Cataloguing every feature, every similarity, every piece of evidence of what I’d hidden.
The room tilted violently. My body was done, poison winning the war for my bloodstream. But I had enough left for one more truth.
“I hate you,” I whispered as darkness crept in from the edges. “God, I hate you so much...”
The last thing I saw was his stricken face before everything went black.