Leah's POV
The next morning, I woke to a bed that felt too big, too empty. The sheets beside me were cold, the imprint of Darren's body gone like he'd never been there at all. My chest tightened, a jagged panic slicing through me. The moon's bloody glare from last night still lingered in my mind, and now this—him missing again. I bolted upright, heart slamming against my ribs, sweat beading on my scarred skin. Those marks from the slave market itched, a reminder of chains I'd never fully shed. He couldn't be gone. Not after everything.
I stumbled out of bed, bare feet hitting the floorboards with a slap that echoed in the too-quiet house. My breath came fast, shallow, as I tore down the stairs, the ache in my bones screaming from the night before. A clatter drifted up from below—metal on metal, faint but real. My pulse stuttered. Maybe he hadn't left me. Maybe he was still mine.
The kitchen doorway loomed ahead, and I caught the scent first—grease and salt, something sizzling. Then I saw him. Darren. His back faced me, broad and sturdy again, like it'd been when he was whole, when the wolf in him ruled without breaking. He stood at the stove, shoulders hunched over a pan, the muscles in his arms flexing as he moved. I froze, my breath catching hard in my throat. He looked… alive. Real. Not the hollowed-out shell I'd chained up in the basement all those months.
Relief crashed over me, so fierce I nearly sank to my knees. Instead, I crossed the room in a rush, arms wrapping around him from behind. I pressed my face into his back, the warmth of him seeping into me, chasing out the cold dread. His shirt smelled of smoke and sweat, and I clung to it, to him, like he might vanish if I let go.
He went still for a heartbeat, then his hand settled over mine, rough fingers curling around my wrists where they locked across his waist. "Why don't you sleep a little longer?" he asked, voice low and gravelly, like stones grinding together. "Did I wake you?"
I shook my head, cheek scraping against the fabric. "No, I…" My voice faltered, trembling with the fear I couldn't shake. "I was scared you were gone again."
He turned then, slow, his hands sliding up to cradle my face. I looked up, and his eyes hit me hard—clear, sharp, no trace of the nightmare that'd clouded them for so long. "I feel like I've had a long nightmare," he said, thumb brushing my cheek, rough skin catching on mine. "But it's over now. We're together, and that's what matters."
Tears stung my eyes, hot and unwanted. I nodded, throat too tight to speak at first. "Yeah," I whispered finally, leaning into his touch. "That's all that matters."
His fingers tilted my chin, and then his mouth was on mine—soft, then hungry, a claiming that lit a fire under my skin. His hands dropped to my waist, pulling me tight against him, and I melted, fingers knotting in his hair. He lifted me like I weighed nothing, strong again, and set me on the counter's edge before stepping between my legs.
"Darren," I gasped, heat flooding me as his lips dragged down my neck, hands roaming with a need that made my pulse race. "The baby…"
"I'll be gentle," he murmured, voice thick, breath hot against my skin. "I won't hurt you. Or our child."
I nodded, believing him because I had to, because I wanted him too much to stop. He entered me slow, careful, and I groaned, soft and low, clinging to his shoulders as the world narrowed to just us. "Hold me tight," I whispered, and he did, arms locking around me like a cage I didn't mind.
At first, it was tender - his movements steady, his touch a promise. But then something shifted. His grip hardened, fingers digging into my hips, his thrusts turning sharp, demanding. The air thickened, his breath coming in harsh pants against my ear. I glanced up, and his eyes were dark, wild, the wolf peering out from behind the man.
"Darren," I said, voice shaking. "Slow down."
He didn't hear me - or didn't care. His hands tightened, bruising now, and he growled, low and dangerous. "Did you sleep with him?"
I went still, cold dread snaking through the heat. "What?"
"Liam," he spat, the name a blade between us. His hips snapped harder, punishing. "When you had me tied up like a dog in the basement, did you fuck him?"
My mind reeled, scrambling for sense. "Darren, I didn't..."
"Don't lie to me!" His hand shot to my throat, not squeezing, but holding, pinning me there. His voice was a snarl, raw and jagged. "You were pregnant with my child, and you let another man touch you. Why? Was it pity? Did you ever even love me?"
Tears spilled over, hot tracks down my cheeks. I shoved at his chest, weak and trembling. "Stop, please. You're scaring me."
But he didn't stop. His jealousy flared, a beast of its own, and I saw the wolf fully now - untamed, raging. "Answer me!" he roared, shaking the walls.
I couldn't breathe, couldn't think past the fear clawing up my spine. My hands flew to my belly, shielding the life there. "Darren, for the sake of our child, don't do this," I whispered, voice breaking.
His hand lifted, fist clenched, and time slowed - my heart stopped, waiting for the blow. But then the door crashed open, wood splintering, and Liam stormed in, eyes blazing like twin moons. "Are you crazy?!" he shouted, slamming into Darren, shoving him back. "She's pregnant with your kid!"
Darren stumbled, snarling, but Liam planted himself between us, a wall of fury and muscle. "You don't deserve her," he snapped, voice dripping venom. "After all she's done, this is how you repay her?"
Darren's chest heaved, eyes darting from Liam to me, suspicion twisting his face. "Did you touch her?" he demanded, stepping forward.