The Alpha's Forbidden Vow novel Chapter 26

POV: Zane

Five years.

Five years of a cold, hollow rage simmering in my veins.

Five years of chasing ghosts and whispers across the continent.

My search teams had scoured every city, every pack territory, every place a shifter might think to hide.

All of it for nothing.

Then, a week ago, a stroke of luck.

A facial recognition program I had running on a continuous loop finally got a hit.

A grainy photo from a gas station security camera, a hundred miles from here.

It was her. Older, her face thinner, but it was unmistakably Selene.

The trail had led me here.

To this pathetic, insignificant human town called Creekwood.

My private jet landed at a small airfield an hour ago.

The black, nondescript SUV I was driving was the most powerful vehicle this town had likely ever seen.

My wolf was a caged beast, pacing at the back of my mind, agitated and electric with proximity.

*Mate. Pup.*

The bond, a dull, agonizing ache for five years, was now a roaring fire in my soul.

She was near.

They were near.

I drove through the quaint, ridiculously peaceful Main Street, my Alpha senses on high alert.

I could smell her scent on the wind, faint but undeniable.

Rain-washed earth, chamomile, and that unique, sweet fragrance that was hers alone.

It was mingled with another scent.

A smaller, younger version of her scent, and… mine.

My pup.

My son.

My hands tightened on the steering wheel, my knuckles cracking under the pressure.

My search led me to a small town park.

And that’s when I saw them.

The world around me dissolved into a silent, slow-motion tableau.

My mate, the other half of my soul, was smiling at another male.

The human was tall, with a gentle face. He looked kind. He looked dependable.

I hated him with a violence that was terrifying in its purity.

My wolf was snarling, a murderous litany in my mind.

*Kill him. Kill the male who dares to stand with our mate. Take what is ours.*

I watched as the man, the human doctor I’d read about in the file, walked over to her.

He said something, and she laughed again, a light, genuine sound that felt like a physical blow.

He reached out and gently brushed a stray leaf from her hair.

It was a casual, intimate gesture.

The gesture of a lover.

A low, guttural growl rumbled in my chest, a sound of pure, murderous intent.

He had touched what was mine.

He was playing father to my son.

And she was letting him.