The Werewolf's Secret Baby: A Paranormal Shifter Romance

Chapter Four

"Desmond!" the witch gasped. There were a swear, a low growl and a massive crash on the other end that already had Desmond hastily pulling back on his pants, forgoing even his boxers as he all but ran to his door.

"Perrine! What's going on?"

"It's Ramson! He..." another crash cut off what the witch was saying. "He's gone crazy! I-I, I'm trying my best, but Marceline is... Mon ami, get out of here! Run, chere, run!"

"I'll be there soon," Desmond said, hanging up his phone and shifting into his wolf at the same time. He had run all of three steps in his human form before he'd fallen forward and started pelting down the road on all fours. His paws barely seemed to touch the ground, his ears were pinned flat to his head and his tail streamed out behind him. It was hard to picture that just an hour before he'd ran through the same marshland, marveling at its beauty and imagining running beside Marceline. Now, all it did was slow him down as his paws sucked into the peat.

How could he have left her? He knew! He had felt it deep inside that something would go wrong, hadn't he? As he thundered along, his mind raged with all the thoughts of what someone like Ramson could do to someone like his Marceline.

He hurried down the asphalt of the road to the cabaret, stones and grit cutting into the fleshy pads on his paws, but he hardly noticed. The closer he came to the cabaret, the more he felt the familiar pull to his mate until it nearly bowled him over. He leaped through the broken front window and immediately launched himself at the pair of werewolves locked in a snarling ball of rage amidst the rubble that still remained from earlier.

Blood assaulted his nose and snarls roared deafeningly in his ears. Whines, high pitched and fearful, pulled at his heart strings. A massive red wolf he knew all too well to be Ramson had his teeth buried deep in the shoulder of the smaller silver wolf Desmond immediately recognized as his mate. To her credit, she thrashed about furiously to get him to let go.

Marceline.

Her blood splattered Ramson's face. His chest. His paws.

Red welled heatedly before Desmond's eyes as he charged headfirst into the red wolf's side, a murderous snarl exploding from his throat.

Somewhere, in the far reaches of his mind where his human soul still listened, he was aware of Perrine rushing to Marceline's side and pulling her away. But even that small part of Desmond was wrenched forcefully into the heat of battle, as the rival alpha reared on his hind legs, paw slashing angrily at his snout.

A low, guttural snarl erupted from his throat again and yet just as he prepared a counter attack, Ramson seemed to see exactly who it was he fought. He took one quick, almost fearful look at him, and turned tail, darting away with an echoing howl.

Something was off about the other alpha, but Desmond had bigger problems to worry about. The second Ramson was out of sight, he turned around in search of Marceline and Perrine. With his heart in his chest, Desmond shifted into his human form and picked his way over to them.

"Marceline!" he cried out. Desmond found the proud, beautiful woman in the arms of the slender witch, Perrine, having once more turned back into a human.

Had the situation been any different than it was, Desmond would have found Marceline's naked form too much to bear, but the woman was incredibly battered and not in the best of shape.

He had to grit his teeth to keep bestial growls from rising, even in his human throat, from the sight of her blood splattered form.

"Perrine. Thank you... I must ask one more favor," he whispered, not trusting himself to speak with any sort of volume, lest he'd explode with the pent up rage that boiled just beneath the surface. He'd kill Ramson for this. He'd gut him like a fish and leave his entrails strung up in a tree for the crows to feed on. Right then, though, Marceline needed him.

"I can drive you home, cher," the witch whispered before Desmond even had a chance to ask.

He nodded and bent down, scooping Marceline up in his strong arms with a soft whine.

"Hey, Desmond," she whispered lightly, her dark eyes glazed over with pain. "You were right. He... He showed up acting all strange, then he smelled you and..." she trailed off, her eyes fluttering as she rested her head against his shoulder. "I hate it when you're right."

A soft whine escaped past her lips and her face scrunched up in pain. The display broke Desmond's heart and left his chest aching.

"I'm sorry, Marceline," he whispered as he climbed into the back of Perrine's truck, his mate clutched desperately in his arms. "I wish I was wrong. I would give anything to have been wrong."

A small, sad smile crossed her face as she raised a finger and brushed it lightly against Desmond's lips. The alpha responded with a soft, choked sounding whine. Gentle tears streamed down his face and splashed silently against her cheeks.

"It's not your fault, Desmond. My mama always said I shouldn't go rogue. She always said it'd end up getting me killed or hurt. There was one thing you were good at... Protecting me," she whispered.

Desmond just shook his head, a few more silent tears sliding down his cheeks. His usually strong, dominating shoulders were hunched in defeat as he cradled Marceline and pressed soft kisses to her forehead while his hand patted her thick, curly hair. It would be impossible to forgive Ramson for this, but even more impossible to forgive himself. His eyes kept roaming over the poor woman's shoulder. White bone gleamed starkly against her battered, coffee colored skin, leaving him feeling sick to his stomach. Had he been even seconds later, she'd have lost her entire arm, if not her life.

Marceline's eyes kept rolling back into her skull, only to jerk back into focus as she fought to stay awake. Despite himself, Desmond couldn't help but smile, though the expression did little to lighten his grieved eyes.

"Rest, sweetheart," he whispered to her, the truck rumbling beneath them as Perrine drove down the street. "We'll be home soon, and we'll get you cleaned up. I promise. I've got you now."

It didn't take more encouraging on his part for her to give in and fall asleep, giving him time to think before they arrived back at his house.

Blood enraged wolves from Ramson's pack had gone and destroyed Marceline's territory. Possibly because they were searching for her and then he shows up and attacks her, but not until after he'd already been there. Perrine had time to alert him that something was wrong and the battle had only just begun by the time he got there. Something wasn't right. The only people who could answer any of his questions, he either wanted to murder, were unconscious and naked in his arms or were driving the truck he rode in.