Chapter 229: Chapter 229 Scent of Blood
Phoebe’s POV
The shapes emerging weren’t our enemies—wild wolves had been tracking us. No pups traveled with the pack. These were fully grown adults, primed for battle.
"The wild wolves... they’ve been tailing us," Wade whispered, and I caught the wonder threading through his voice.
We froze in place until one wolf padded forward, pressing its snout against Wade’s leg—a clear signal for us to keep moving.
On any normal day, I’d have been captivated, wanting to linger and count how many wolves lurked behind the trees and undergrowth, hidden so expertly.
"We need to keep going," Wade finally said, shaking off his amazement as he guided us toward safety.
The path to Alpha Wallace’s territory proved brutal. My pregnancy made every step a struggle—I gasped for air constantly and begged for breaks that only put us in greater danger. The guilt ate at me, knowing my condition exposed everyone to risk.
Why don’t you go ahead without me? You could reach the pack faster and bring reinforcements, I scribbled when I collapsed for the fifth time.
"Absolutely not." Marcela crumpled my note without reading it fully. "Stop beating yourself up." She grasped my hand, conducting a thorough examination during our brief five-minute rest.
When she stayed silent about my condition, I tapped her arm for attention.
How am I? I mouthed, my hand instinctively moving to my belly. I knew this baby was doomed, but I needed to know.
"You’re holding up," Marcela answered, her tone heavy with unspoken truths that confirmed my worst fears.
I squeezed her hand, searching her eyes, but she looked away—all the confirmation I needed.
We couldn’t discuss this openly with Wade present. Not here, not now.
I bit my tongue, forcing myself not to interrogate her further.
Only we knew about the pregnancy. Too dangerous to reveal, especially since we never intended to keep the child anyway.
The revelation would create catastrophic complications.
"Time to move," Wade announced reluctantly. He clearly hated pushing us, especially seeing how pale and drained I looked, but what choice did he have? Our survival depended on it.
"Let’s go," Marcela said, wincing as she helped me to my feet.
The wolves maintained their escort, shadows guarding our flanks.
We hadn’t traveled far before I crumpled again, completely spent.
Please, continue without me. I’m only slowing everyone down. Leave me—I’ll manage, I wrote, hating my weakness.
"Never happening, my queen," Wade declared firmly. "Protecting you is my duty and my mission."
Though new to his warrior role, his loyalty rivaled any veteran’s.
"Climb on. I’ll carry you," Wade crouched before me, offering his back. "This isn’t proper protocol, but it’s an emergency. Forgive the informality."
No, we have too far to travel to the next pack, I wrote frantically. I refuse.
"Wade’s right, Phoebe. Get on so we can reach safety," Marcela insisted, grabbing Wade’s pack.
"I can manage the pack too," Wade protested.
"Focus on the queen. I’ll handle this," Marcela shot back, and Wade eventually surrendered.
I climbed onto Wade’s back, silently apologizing, but the young warrior just chuckled.
"You’re no burden, my queen. This is my honor and responsibility. Something I’ll brag about to my kids and grandkids—my first real mission," Wade said with his usual lightness.
Despite our circumstances, the young wolf’s spirits stayed high. We covered ground for another solid hour.
Wade had been right—this method worked. His stamina shocked me; he didn’t even break a sweat carrying me this distance.
"My training was tougher than this, my queen. Besides, you weigh nothing," he said cheerfully. We were just thirty minutes from Alpha Wallace’s pack.
I felt grateful, but it didn’t eliminate our danger. Minutes later, something shifted.
The wolves sensed it first—a synchronized growl as they stopped and shifted into defensive positions.
Wade immediately lowered me, and Marcela pressed closer to us.
"They caught up," Wade muttered, testing the air. Too many scents. He couldn’t fight them all.
He definitely couldn’t fight them all.
Only one option remained to save me.
Then he caught it—the sharp, metallic tang of blood.
