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Too Late, Alpha: I Left With Our Son Novel Cover

Too Late, Alpha: I Left With Our Son

To protect her mother, a pregnant Cynthia endures the ultimate humiliation from Alpha Killian, performing as a clown while forced to drink. Her world collapses when she learns Killian killed her mother months ago. Heartbroken, she severs their bond and flees. Five years later, she returns as a master potion maker with their son. Killian, broken and desperate, begs for a second chance, but his son stands firm: a good ex should stay out of their lives.
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Chapter 4

The rain lashed against me like an icy whip.

I had no idea how long I had been running. My legs were numb, moving only on raw survival instinct.

A tearing cramp ripped through my abdomen.

The poison from that bottle of liquor was finally taking hold.

A metallic sweetness rose in my throat. Darkness flickered at the edges of my vision.

I tripped over a tree root and crashed into a patch of muddy thorns. Spikes tore through my skin. Blood mixed with rain and dirt.

So cold.

So much pain.

My consciousness began to fade.

Was this how I would die? Rotting in the mud like a stray dog?

Killian's cold face flashed through my mind.

"Cynthia, the blood of a murderer runs through your veins. It disgusts me."

A bitter laugh escaped me.

Maybe death would be easier.

No more atonement. No more humiliation. No more facing the man who had shattered my heart.

I closed my eyes in despair and let the darkness swallow me.

Just as my heart was about to stop—a powerful surge of warmth exploded from deep within my abdomen.

My baby?

My eyes flew open in disbelief.

A brilliant golden light shone through my belly, piercing the filthy clown costume and blazing against the black night.

It was warm. Dominant. Radiating the aura of a king.

The light wrapped around me and forcibly drove the alcohol poisoning from my body.

Then a young yet commanding wolf's howl echoed through my soul.

"Awhoo!"

Under the golden glow, the phantom of a massive white wolf appeared.

Its fur was snow-white. Its golden eyes burned with fury. It lowered its head and brushed its muzzle gently against my cheek. Then it turned and roared into the storm.

The rain was forced back by its aura, creating a barrier of still air around us.

The Royal White Wolf.

Tears burst from my eyes.

The legend was true. Only the purest ancestral bloodline bore a White Wolf spirit companion. And it could protect its host even before birth.

Killian was a blind fool.

The 'bastard' he had tried to kill with that liquor was, in fact, the only White Wolf King born in a century—his own strongest heir.

"My baby…"

I cupped my heated abdomen, tears streaming down my face.

"Did you save me? You're angry too, aren't you?"

The White Wolf spirit looked at me with a lingering affection, then dissolved into starlight and sank back into my body.

Strength flooded my limbs.

I gritted my teeth and pulled myself out of the mud.

I could not die.

I wiped the mud from my face and looked toward the distant, brightly lit estate.

"Killian, look carefully. You failed to kill me tonight. From now on, I'll be your nightmare."

Cradling my abdomen, fueled by that golden power, I plunged deeper into the forest.

This was not an escape.

It was rebirth.

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