Chapter Thirty

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Let's See If We Can hit Fifty Comments.

That's The Goal For This Chapter But I'll Still Post The Chapter As Soon As I Finish It, Even If We Don't Exceed That Limit.

I Know You Can Do It; The Most Comments A Chapter Has Gotten Is 142!

Some Details May be Off Considering I Haven't Written In A Long While. Forgive Me? But Also I Really Don't Like This Book. I'm Not The First Author To Not Like Her Book And I won't Be The Last. It's Poorly Written And I Don't Remember Half Of What I've Written. I'll Most Likely Do A Revised And Rewritten Version Soon. Hopefully. Maybe. I Don't Know.

But Anyways, Enjoy!

Disclaimer : this chapter will be posted in parts. Meaning, I will add more writing as time goes by. I'll add it to this chapter.

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Melanie's POV

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"Where's my daughter, Nico?" I demanded through gritted teeth. Seated on the edge of a chair in my mates office, I find myself growling at the pack-male guarding the door. He looked slightly on the angst-y side as he looked about the room, seemingly trying to avoid my steely eyed gaze. I was sure that if I took the time to do anything but demand to see my daughter I would be able to scent his unease in the air. I wondered if fear would be laced in with his scent. Alone with a severely pissed off older she-wolf. The pup most likely had no experience with the opposite sex, and, judging by his deer in the headlights type of look, I was correct.

He cleared his throat, staring, not at me, but at the spot over my head. "I'm, uh . . . not obliged to say." He croaks, his words a little slow as if he feared I'd tear his head off the second he finished his sentence. He wasn't wrong but he wasn't right either.

I rose to my feet, scoffing out my next sentence as that niggling of protectiveness in my mind increase in fervor. "Oh, I hardly believe that!" My wolf paced and scratched at every crevice of my mind, fighting to be let out, urging me to set her feet to hunt down what was ours and protect her from harm. I pushed back, squaring my shoulders and popping the bones in my neck back into place as my body tried to alter itself for the transition. Flexing my fingers, I bare my teeth at the pup. "Get your Alpha. Get someone who knows something."

The pup looks hesitant to do as I say and, as if propelled by some unforeseeable force, I launch myself at him, snarling my rage, feeling satisfaction burn hot in my veins as I see him rear back against the thick wood of the door with a thud before he spins and scurries out like a fearful little field mouse. The door bangs behind him and I try to hear the direction his steps were going but they were lost to me the second Savannah shifted in her seat.

"Melanie," She crews weekly, sounding young and innocent and afraid. "Please calm down." My wolf hesitates at the sound of my adoptive pups voice, halting her attack against my inner walls for pulsating moment. My wolf pace in agitation. Because though my wolf recognized them as my own – Josh and Savannah – she also knew that the two of them were not of my flesh and blood, that I had not carried them both in my own womb as I had done Kristina. But they were my children all the same. But even the sound of her voice could not calm the fact that my true blood bred pup was gone.

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