Coldsnap: The Billionaire Alpha's Fated Pregnant Princess (GL)-Chapter 402 - [K] Waiting Warmly, Planning Coldly

Chapter 402: Chapter 402 - [K] Waiting Warmly, Planning Coldly

***[POV: Wise White Wolf]***

Settling the pup against me in the gradually warming space of her shipping container, I wondered how long I would last doing only... exactly what she asked.

Trying to convince myself that respecting her choice meant staying put while she handled a threat alone.

That the changes in her will be enough. How a single werewolf, while they are both out in the wild, isn’t like getting surrounded within a locked room.

I still hate thinking about that day.

I’ve been mad before. I’ve had to kill before.

But my heart had never dropped so hard over any violence I’d seen as it did when walking in that room and seeing fangs around *her* neck.

I was sure that I cared for her. That I wanted her as a mate.

That I respected her. Would protect her to my utmost.

And while in my heart I knew the situation I stormed into couldn’t possibly be something she wanted...

I would have killed anyone on her. Even *if* she wanted them there.

I realized this as she sighed and closed her eyes. That moment of relief of hers poked at it’s raw state in me. Before I began to take out more of my anger on others.

Instead of counting to ten, like I promised my mother I would always try to do.

"Claire?"

Calling out and waiting for a response, my thoughts circle that event and the others I’d rescued her from. She did a decent enough job of holding her own, judging by that footage.

Though they weren’t trying to kill her...

"Kyrie, the fighting we have happening at-"

I’d set her son down on the bed before I shifted without listening to all of Claire’s sudden report. Her voice rattling off pack and hunter *injury* from the conflict happening while I was away was like a call to action.

Sitting patiently is not something I can do anymore.

Twelve minutes, and the next thing I knew, I was securing the pouch to fur. More carefully working my claws than I’d ever used them for anything in my life. Even when taking that silver collar off of my mate.

I keep telling myself since getting access to her system power to keep enough emotional distance. So that I’m not hurt if she gets spooked and claims the child is only hers again.

But that slip earlier...

Once my mate and her son were both inside the tower, safe and settled, I’d have likely launched an operation to kill the Sandhowl leaders myself. As well as the Duskpaw.

All of the arrogant bastards so worried about me leading things into a Lunar War. Who is taunting who with their actions now?

These... aren’t the wolves I’m looking for. To live with, alongside humans. Or to let exist where she and this nameless child does, threatening them and making them choose things they wouldn’t have to.

Being Alpha and staying it is not a peaceful thing. Especially when you’re a woman.

There were a few pack leaders I’ve talked to internationally during business meetings who likened the task to human syndicates, where the power held at top is often enforced ruthlessly.

Cartel, Triad, Mafia, Yakuza, mobsters and gangs of all kind need a firm hand at the rudder or else they are not organized. Just criminals with no codes.

Like any business without laws. Or wolves with no pack. Most of those from old countries held rogues in deep contempt... not well liked throughout the world at large.

My good treatment of them in my city relied on them being good people. There were plenty that I’d chased away over the years. Because sometimes chasing them off is how you find more of them.

I want to get them all. Everyone holding dark purposes. All at once. Cleanly.

I wanted Mateo to go back. Gather his people together. To think he could get away.

Before walking into-

"Boss?"

She needs a break from all this. I can hear it in her voice. But there is no one else to replace her. When I get back, I might make her get out of that chair anyway.

For now, I couldn’t answer with anything other than a growl, but she was smart enough to figure that meant I was busy. And angry.

She whistled over the comm in that ’glad it is not me’ tone. And while I’m still anxious for Citra, it eases a part of me to hear my assistant, my friend, being herself.

Following the path outside after storing her things away wasn’t difficult at all. It looked like a bear had sallied through declaring territory... or perhaps that popular character from a comic franchise I’d been made to sit through the movies of.

Claw marks, slicing and gouging deep over every big trunk. With the wild scent of her I knew at every spot - and the newest hint of mint that had increased when she hybridized.

When I spotted her, I stopped where she would see me. And waited. Watched.

My mate, dragging another werewolf’s body by one leg without any strain. The situation was tragic, but the happiness for her safety and success in her hunt inside my heart was real.

Except... she was moving far too slowly for someone with her strength. And there was *warm looking* blood discoloring her black torso that made me start to growl low.

Locking my sight onto the red furred body it obviously wasn’t from him. No new wounds I can see... and what is on her had the quality of bleeding out - not spatter.

> She’d taken significant damage while I sat by! <

That thought, in alignment with my wolf, actually made a whine rip from my throat which grabbed her attention.

"You didn’t listen to orders."

Her rough voiced rebuke was weak. She didn’t even look at me, even as I start to shift back into my human form.

Just kept pulling the body this way. With determination. Toward... what?

Suddenly, I remembered the talismans she’d kept from that hunter’s hideout. The grim trophies she’d claimed without explanation. Including the one used by Martha in her healing ritual.

"What do you intend to do with that, exactly?"

She stopped. Finally looked at me with those luminous lilac eyes. And I could see that she was lost even before she admitted it.

Citra Lomdi. Who always had something sharp to say if you questioned her. Or could fake having a plan in that haughty, aristocratic tone even if she was winging it.

"I don’t know... It just felt wrong to leave it."

"Were you worried it would be found and it would come back on us? By council laws, it would be left where it is so that it is clear they violated a boundary."

"I see."

...

"Should we bury it?"

It’s not what I would do, but I ask her anyway. She’s shown that same sort of consideration to a dead hunter when she didn’t need to.

And I would let her make all my plans less efficient, even if it costs others. If it sets her alone at ease, then others matter little. At least a lot less than they used to.

"...No? I just... I don’t know."

Uncurling her claws from his leg, it thuds to the snow as she stares at her hand. That consideration was enough to feel like I understand why she is lost.

Enough to move and wrap my arms around her slowly. Both so she stays calm and so I don’t squish the pup between us.

Maybe I just wanted to hug her regardless and use this attempt of hers, to understand the struggle of taking a life herself, to do it.

"It’s okay not to know what to do. We can take it with us. Figure it out later."

Having Lang record an autopsy and check for what he has been digesting is better anyway. Proof I can use to get everyone on my side, instead of just following my orders based on the words of one hunter I didn’t bring back with us.

"You made the right call, Princess."

"I know."

Scrubbing my fingers through the cream colored markings new to her face, my eyes stare at her neck. Where a little patch of blood sat glistening.

To the point that I imagine this is what a vampire feels like, when they’ve found their target.

"Then why do you sound like someone who thinks they did wrong?"

"If I knew anything, I’d stop saying that I didn’t. Can you merely put him away while I shift again?"

Petulantly, her hand pushes at the side of my face. And it takes something for me not to ask if she’d noticed that she was smearing her own blood all over me during our interaction.

However, I say nothing and quickly bring out her storage space as requested. Dart inside and put on clothes. She will likely find it strange if she notices...

That I don’t mind the uncleanliness. Or if I stress that nothing feels unclean, if it comes from her.

"...Or that some part of me is dying to pin her down and clean her myself."

"Uh, boss? Still on the line here."

Yes. She really needs to take a break already. We all do.