Divorcing My Alpha Husband For His Uncle

6. Alaric

The first thing I became aware of was the light.

A soft amber glow hovered somewhere above me, faint enough that I almost mistook it for moonlight filtering through a window. My eyelids felt heavy, and my body even heavier. Every limb ached as though I had been dragged across stones and left there.

What came next was the smell. A mixture of antiseptic, medicine, and fresh linen.

The scent was so clean and unfamiliar that my stomach immediately tightened.

Darkmoon didn't smell like this. A low groan escaped me as I forced my eyes open, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling above me.

Where am I? Even the walls were unfamiliar. Everything felt wrong.

For a few seconds, I simply stared, in a dazed, confused, disoriented way.

Then the memory came back, forcing a broken whimper out of me when it crashed into me with full force.

The feast. The betrayal. Running in the forest. Blood.

So much blood. I jolted up from the bed, sitting upright, instantly the room spun around me, and pain exploded through my skull as a sharp gasp tore from my throat.

My hand flew to my stomach instinctively, but I could feel nothing, and the realization struck just as painfully as it had the first time.

My baby was gone.

My chest constricted painfully, and for a terrifying second, I couldn't breathe.

I squeezed my eyes shut, clutching at my shirt, willing the tears away before they could properly form as the panic built up stronger.

No, please. Not now. I…I need to get out. My heart began to pound even faster as I took deep breaths.

Where was I? My gaze darted around the room, looking for anything that would indicate where I was, but all I saw was luxury.

There were no guards, nothing. Even the silence felt strange.

Almost peaceful.

And that frightened me even more. Slowly, I pushed the blankets away from my body.

The moment my feet touched the floor, pain shot through my body.

I hissed, lifting my right foot off the ground in reflex. It felt shredded, and my knees burned. My lower abdomen ached with a deep soreness that made me feel sick to my stomach.

I was in a lot of pain, and for a moment, black spots danced across my vision; it made me grip the edge of the bed until they disappeared.

I should have stayed back on the bed, rested, but instead, panic shoved me forward, because I didn't know where I was.

And if I didn't know where I was, then Nolan could still find me.

The thought alone made my pulse spike, and I forced myself to stand with trembling legs that almost collapsed on me.

A shaky breath escaped me when I finally found footing.

God. I felt so weak and pathetic. My lips wobbled with another sob, but I kept moving anyway.

One step at a time, painfully slow, even when every movement hurts, and when I wanted to move fast before anyone comes.

Staying still had never saved me. And I'm sure as hell it wouldn't now. By the time I reached the door, sweat clung to the back of my neck.

My hand reached for the handle, but before I could touch it, the door flung open, forcing a startled cry out of me.

I stumbled backward immediately, losing balance as my injured foot twisted under me, and intense pain shot up my leg.

For one horrible second, I thought I was about to hit the ground, so I closed my eyes and braced myself, but then, I felt a warm presence as an arm wrapped securely around my waist.

Strong, steady, and warm. My breath got caught in my throat, and every muscle in my body locked.

I stiffened, holding my breath and not moving. My eyes still stayed tightly shut as fear rooted me in place.

Because the last time I'd trusted a man's touch, he'd destroyed my life completely and left me for dead.

"Easy." A deep, velvety voice said. Not loud or threateningly, yet it wrapped around me far too easily.

"You're still injured."

My fingers curled into fists, beside me, my chest thumping hard.

Nolan. The realization hit me instantly. This wasn't Nolan's voice, nor was it his scent; it doesn't even feel like him, and somehow that scared me just as much if it did.

If this wasn't Nolan...

Then who was it?

"Open your eyes." The voice spoke again, and I pressed my nails deeper into my palm, making it sting.

The command wasn't harsh. If anything, it sounded patient. My heart hammered violently against my ribs in fear.

Then, slowly, reluctantly, I forced my eyes open. The first thing I saw was a broad chest covered by a black shirt that hugged his taut muscles.

Then my gaze lifted, tracing the outline of his chest up to his face.

Everything inside me seemed to pause at his visuals.

Dark tousled hair, sharp facial features, a jaw covered by faint stubble, surrounding full pink lips, and then his eyes, so dark they looked almost black beneath the warm lighting.

He was handsome. Dangerously so.

But that wasn't the only thing that caught my attention; it was his presence.

The room felt smaller standing this close to him. It felt like he carried authority so naturally that the air itself bent around it.

He looked older than Nolan, much older, and for some reason, that made my pulse race even harder.

For a long moment, neither of us said anything. His hand remained firm on my waist, and my breath hitched when I realized he still hadn't let go of me yet.

His eyes stayed fixed on me, filled with a little bit of curiosity and an intensity that made my skin warm.

Like he was searching for something and couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

The look unsettled me, so I immediately stepped away.

Or tried to.

Pain flared through my foot again, and I winced, biting my lower lip to stop a curse from spilling out.

The stranger released me instantly without resistance or attempt to pull me back, and the gesture surprised me.

I put another step between us, more like limping, creating a safe distance. My pulse still hadn't settled, but I cleared my dry throat awkwardly, raising my eyes to meet his intense ones.

"Where am I?" I asked, hating how weak it sounded. Nothing like the Luna who once commanded meeting halls and negotiated alliances.

Just a frightened woman standing barefoot in an unfamiliar room, with a 6-foot-plus stranger.

The stranger's eyes moved over me briefly, checking my balance before returning to my face.

Then he answered. "Darkmoor."

The word hit me like a physical blow, and my stomach dropped.

Every ounce of blood drained from my face as my throat went dry from panic.

Darkmoor.

No, no, no. Of all the territories I could have crossed into. Of all the places fate could have thrown me.

It shouldn't be here. My eyes widened as I looked at him again, recognition slamming into me.

The dark hair, the imposing height, the unmistakable authority. Every story I'd ever heard suddenly clicked into place.

Alpha Alaric Darkmoor.

The strongest Alpha in the region. The man whom other Alphas avoided provoking.

Nolan's uncle.

I took an unstable step backwards, my breath hitching with the strain on my foot and the pounding both in my head and chest.

A strange look crossed his face as he watched my face contort into several emotions.

I shouldn't be here. I thought as my hand gripped the chair beside me.

A terrifying thought echoed through my mind.

I had escaped one Alpha. Only to wake up in the territory of another.

And judging by the way he was looking at me—

He already knew exactly who I was.