BRAHAM'S POV

"Millie-Rose..."

I heard myself murmur her name as I stirred from unconsciousness. My voice was hoarse, cracked, like I'd clawed it out of a dream I didn't want to leave.

I touched her side of the bed and she wasn't there, the feeling of emptiness filled me with fear and I immediately opened my eyes to see she really wasn't there.

Then it hit me.

She was gone.

First things first, I was a fucking idiot.

I blinked once. Twice. The bed beside me was cold. Empty.

A deep, soul-cringing humiliation festered in my chest. My stomach turned. My skin itched with regret. Rage.

What the hell had I done?

Why did I bring her to a hotel?

Why did I make love to her like a man possessed...like I was drunk on her, desperate for her?

Oh, that's right. Because I was.

Drunk as shit. Out of my goddamn mind.

But booze wasn't the only reason. No, that'd be too convenient.

I wanted her.

She wasn't just a warm body to fuck and forget. She was a storm I had willingly walked into... no raincoat, no armor.

The sex wasn't empty. It was... blistering. Addictive. We didn't just connect; we combusted. Her moans still echoed in my ears like a fucking curse. The scratch marks on my back were still fresh... physical proof that it wasn't some fever dream.

And now, she was gone.

I sat up abruptly, my heart thundering. Her scent had vanished from the room. No perfume. No lipstick stains on the glass. No hair on the pillow. Just... nothing.

Like she had never existed.

Maybe she was in the bathroom.

I pushed off the sheets and strode across the suite, flinging the bathroom door open and froze.

Empty. Cold. Clean. Not a single sign of her presence.

My jaw clenched.

"Vorn," my wolf whined inside me.

He felt it too. The loss. The confusion. The insult.

No.

She left.

No note. No goodbye. Just vanished.

I grabbed the hotel's landline and jabbed the call button.

"Good morning, Alpha Braham. How may I help you?" chirped the receptionist.

Her cheery tone made me want to punch something.

"The girl," I growled. "Did anyone see her leave?"

"Which girl, Sir?" 

"The one I checked in with," I snapped, my patience running thin.

"Oh! You mean the slut from last night?" 

I Snapped.

The growl that tore out of my throat was instant, primal.

"She's not a slut," I said through clenched teeth. "And yes. That girl. Millie-Rose."

"I didn't see her, Sir," she said, clearly unbothered. "But I'll ask around. If anyone saw her leave, I'll let you know." 

I slammed the receiver down and ran a hand through my hair, breathing hard.

A fucking mess. That's what I was.

I stumbled into the bathroom, turned the shower knob to cold, and stood beneath the freezing spray.

The water hit me like knives. Sharp. Unforgiving.

I welcomed the sting.

Because beneath it, I could still feel her. Her fingers on my chest, her legs wrapped around me, the way she whispered my name like it was a goddamn prayer.

Why did she leave?

Why sneak out before dawn like some guilty mistress?

If it was just sex, she should've said so. If it meant nothing, she could've made that clear.

But no. She kissed me like she needed me. Touched me like I was the only man she'd ever wanted.

So why disappear?

Unless...

She regretted it.

The thought hit harder than I expected.

Regret.

Did she look at me afterward and hate herself?

Was I just another mistake in her life?

Fuck.

I stepped out of the shower, dripping and raw, and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

I didn't recognize the man staring back at me.

Was this what I'd become in less than twenty-four hours? That desperate? That broken?

But no matter what she thought, one truth remained:

She was pregnant. With my child.

Which meant she was mine, whether she liked it or not.

And she sure as hell wasn't going to vanish into thin air.

I dressed quickly and called my Beta.

 Renan picked up on the second ring. "Yo. What's up?" His usual carefree tone came.

"You. Down here. Now. Ten minutes. Bring backup."

A pause.

"What happened?" he asked, voice sharpening.

"I'll explain when you get here."

I hung up.

No time for explanations.

No time for shame.

Just action.

I poured myself a shot from last night's tequila bottle. The burn grounded me.

Women.

The one goddamn thing I could never control.

First Jasmine... sweet, pure, my chosen Luna in the absence of a fated mate. She turned out to be a snake, sleeping with my rival, feeding him information about my pack's weaknesses. I exiled her without a second thought.

But the void she left never closed.

After that, I turned to logic.

If fate wouldn't give me a mate, I'd create my own destiny.

Surrogacy made sense. Cold. Clinical. Safe.

But that didn't go as planned either.

The hospital back home failed me. The women got clingy. Obsessed. Even the so-called nurses.

So, I crossed the country, came here to the human cities where anyone would barely recognize me. I asked for a werewolf surrogate. Strong. Quiet. Efficient.

So how the fuck did my seed end up inside an innocent girl without her consent?

A human?

Someone was going to pay for this.

The intercom buzzed.

"She left, Sir," the receptionist said. "A staff member saw her slip out around dawn. She ran. Looking upset."

My heart did something strange.

Tightened.

Twisted.

Cracked.

"Did she... steal anything?" the receptionist asked cautiously.

Yeah. My sanity. My peace of mind.

"No," I muttered, and dropped the line.

My hand curled around the shot glass.

Crack.

It shattered in my fist.

Blood dripped down my fingers.

"Shit!" Renan cursed, suddenly beside me. "Easy, man."

I hadn't even heard him come in.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, stepping around the broken glass.

"I need you to find someone."

"Let me guess. Millie-Rose?"

I whipped around. "How do you know that name?"

He smirked. "The Receptionist. She talks too much. Said you brought in Millie-Rose Harvey. Big-deal human actress, apparently."

I blinked. What?

That was Millie-Rose Harvey?

The famous actress with a spotless record I heard of once or twice?

No scandals. No men. No public drama.

And now... pregnant. With my child?

My mouth went dry.

She wasn't just running from me. She was running from everything. Her career. Her reputation. The life she'd built.

"And she's trending right now," Renan added, handing me his phone.

The screen was already open to a blog headline.

"Millie-Rose Harvey Caught In Love Triangle Scandal... Cheating? Pregnant?!"

Countless numbers of comments. Photos. Theories.

People were tearing her apart.

"She left in a rush, probably trying to avoid the media circus," Renan said.

I clenched my jaw.

"She's carrying my child," I said quietly. "Find her. Today."

MILLIE-ROSE'S POV

"Is it true? Is Martha really getting married to my boyfriend?"

Tears streamed down my face, soaking the scarf I'd knotted tightly around the lower half of my face like it could muffle the sound of my breaking heart.

"I'm so sorry, Millie," Callie whispered through the phone. Her voice was soft, too soft... like she was trying not to cry too. "You didn't deserve any of this."

I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that would make it all stop.

But it didn't.

They really did it.

Martha... My own stepsister  was marrying Silas. My fiancé. The same man I was supposed to walk down the aisle with today.

And me? I was out here... hiding in an alley behind some old bakery that smelled like stale bread and burnt sugar. No shoes. No dignity. No plan.

Cancelled. Humiliated. Betrayed.

A nobody.

This morning, someone, probably Martha or her mother, I wouldn't put it past them had leaked an article to the media. "Millie-Rose Harvey Cheated on Her Fiancé with Mystery Man, Now Pregnant." The headline alone was enough to ruin me.

The story went viral in less than two hours. My face was everywhere, in magazines, blogs, news sites, even on TV. The comment sections were on fire. Strangers dissecting my life like I was a scandalous TV show. Like I wasn't human.

Thirteen brands. Thirteen endorsement deals gone. Just like that.

Everyone wanted to distance themselves from me. I'd gone from their golden girl to their biggest liability overnight. No one wanted to be associated with a 'homewrecker' or a 'disgraced actress'.

"Millie, you need to come out of hiding," Callie said softly, gently. "You can't stay like this. They'll find you."

"I know," I rasped. My voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.

"You can't go back home either..."

I let out a bitter laugh. "That was never home."

Not after Mom died. Not after Father married that woman. Not after Martha slithered into my life and stole every piece of it; my room, my career, my peace, and now, my fiancé.

"I picked that damn wedding dress," I whispered, wiping my face. "She's going to walk down the aisle in my dress... with my man. And everyone will clap for her."

Callie didn't say anything. She couldn't. What could she possibly say to undo this kind of betrayal?

"I need to leave the country," I said after a long pause, my voice steadier than before. "But I can't buy a flight ticket... they'll track it. Every move I make right now is monitored."

"What's your plan?"

"I'll take a bus. Then maybe a train. Keep bouncing from city to city until I disappear. Eventually, I'll find somewhere quiet. A village, maybe. Somewhere no one knows me. And from there, I'll catch a flight out and vanish for good."

"Millie..." her voice trembled.

"I'll start over. Even if it's hard. Even if it kills me."

There was a short silence before she said, "Okay. But please eat something. You sound weak. Where did you even sleep last night?"

I flinched.

Her question pulled me into unwanted memories.

The hotel. That stranger. His scent still clung to me, no matter how many times I tried to scrub him off.

His voice. His hands. His kiss.

Alpha Braham.

I forced myself to forget.

"Millie?" Callie snapped, dragging me back.

"What?"

"There's a man here. At the agency. He says he needs to see you. He won't leave."

My stomach dropped. "Who?"

She hesitated. "Alpha Braham."

My blood ran cold. 

"No," I whispered. "Please don't talk to him. Don't let him know I called. Don't mention where I am. Just... lie. Say you haven't seen me or heard from me."

"Okay. I'll handle it."

"I'll call you later."

I ended the call and adjusted my disguise; wig, cap, scarf, oversized cloak, and tinted glasses. I looked like a crazy woman, but at least I was anonymous.

I stepped onto the busy street, my head low.

A convenience store glowed ahead. Salvation.

My stomach growled painfully, reminding me I hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours.

I rushed in, grabbed a cup of instant noodles and a bottle of water, and slid into a corner seat. I peeled off my scarf for just a moment to breathe.

Big mistake.

"Wait... is that Millie-Rose?"

The whisper came from a teenage girl near the fridge.

A second later, it was like I'd triggered a fire alarm.

"That's her!"

"Oh my God, she looks awful."

"She's pregnant with some other guy's baby and still has the nerve to show her face?"

"She's disgusting."

Each word hit harder than the last.

I kept my head down, hands trembling as I slurped the noodles. They tasted like salt and tears.

I forced the food down. Paid quickly. Fled.

The bus terminal was my only hope now.

I didn't care where it was going. I just needed to go.

Anywhere.

I bought a ticket. Boarded the bus. Took a window seat in the back and hid there.

Finally, silence.

A woman settled beside me with a baby in her arms. She looked tired. Her hair was a mess, and her shirt was stained with baby spit. But there was something peaceful about her.

Halfway through the ride, her phone rang. She struggled to pick it up, balancing the baby, her purse, and the call all at once.

She turned to me, desperate. "Please... can you hold her just for a second?"

I blinked. Then nodded.

The baby was warm in my arms. Soft. Innocent.

She looked up at me with the most beautiful blue eyes I'd ever seen.

She giggled.

I couldn't help it... I smiled. A real, genuine smile. My first in days.

And then, a tear escaped.

Is this what motherhood felt like?

Would my child smile at me like this? Would it giggle and reach for me like I was its whole world?

Would it forgive me for not knowing what to do... for running, for breaking down?

I didn't have the answers.

But one thing became crystal clear at that moment... painfully, irrevocably clear:

If I decide to keep this baby, then I'm keeping all of it.

No one; not Silas, not my father, not Martha, and definitely not Alpha Braham would take this child away from me.

If I carry this child, then it stays with me.

It belongs to me.

Forever.