Page 95 of His Forsaken Alpha

Wynter eyed his papa. How he could still have room to be stunned, he wasn’t sure.

If he’d killed some stranger, he’d kill Cavanaugh without another thought.

His papa scowled at him. “Let’s go. Before that alpha awakens.”

“Whois this?”

His papa sighed. “He was dying. He had months, perhaps only weeks, to live. He wanted his family to be taken care of and didn’t want to suffer in agony before he died. What I offered him was a mercy.”

Wynter eyed his papa, again assured the man was teetering on the edge of madness. “You’ve hada couple of daysto plan this. How in the hell did you find him—and convince him of that in such short time?”

“He’s a distant cousin,” his papa replied. “It was fortunate to learn of his cancer days before I heard about the train attack.” His papa eyed the corpse. “That omega understood self-sacrifice. You could learn a thing or two from him. His alpha and children won’t wish for anything.” His papa chuckled. “And if all goeswell, your Cavanaugh will assume it’s you and move on with his life. It will be safer for him if he does.”

“You promised you wouldn’t harm him.”

“If he finds you and refuses to back down… I might not have a choice, Wynter.”

Wynter eyed his papa.“You promised.”

“Do as you’re told, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep him breathing. If he finds you, renounce him and send him on his way—or else I’ll be forced to take matters into my own hands.”

Wynter knew he couldn’t trust his papa, but what choice did he have? For all he knew that warning shot had been more, and Cavanaugh lay bleeding out in the snow. That thought brought a fresh wave of tears.

“Get up, wipe your face, and get your ass in the car.Now!”

Wynter rose on wobbly legs, shaking from the cold. He stumbled through the snow to the waiting limo and slipped inside the door his papa opened for him. It was warm inside, but he barely noticed. The cold wouldn’t abate, no matter how warm the temperature rose. The car slipped away from the cabin. Farther down the mountain, he turned and noticed a massive, dark plume rising above.

“There should be little for him to find in the wreckage.”

“This is insanity,” Wynter whispered, more to himself than his papa.

“Be that as it may, you won’t have to worry about Wilder Cavanaugh again.” His papa pulled a bag out from his own totethat had been resting inside the limo and handed it over to Wynter.

Wynter eyed it. Inside was a bottle of pills and a small spray bottle. “What’s this?”

“The spray you need to use daily for the next three months. It will mask the scent of that alpha on you, so Warden doesn’t realize you’ve cuckolded him. The other is medication that will fake a heat. In case you’re pregnant with the writer’s baby.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Damn it, Wynter. You’ve had heat cycles and a pregnancy. You know how this works now.”

Wynter eyed him, clueless. “I know little more than I did at that first heat.”

His papa sighed dramatically. “If you return home and don’t have a heat next cycle, your alpha will know you were another alpha’s whore. He’ll know you carry another’s baby. We can’t have that. You’ll take one of those pills two days before your next heat is scheduled to arrive, and then another every single day for the remainder of what should be your heat. It will cause a false heat and trigger Warden’s rut. After, you can tell Warden the baby is his, if you’re pregnant.”

He eyed the pills. “You can fake a heat?”

“If you have enough money and know who to ask, you can.”

Wynter ran a hand over his flat stomach. “Will the pills hurt the baby?”

“I wish it would.”

Wynter frowned, placing a protective hand on his stomach—as if he was pregnant.

“It’s safe for the child. If there is one.”

“You’re sure?”

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