Chapter 97
Though he had spent weeks wishing the human movie star would vanish from his sight, a grim knot tightened in Christian’s chest at the sight.
Raphael’s flawless features—the face plastered across human billboards, coveted by millions who merely begged for a passing glance—was brutally swollen and lacerated. Dark crimson sluggishly trickled from a jagged tear along his brow.
His clothes were shredded and saturated with dried blood, his broad, athletic build reduced to a slumped, lifeless weight against the wood. Even the actor’s powerful physique, which usually commanded a screen with absolute vitality, looked entirely broken under the damp, flickering shadows of the room.
"Raphael," Christian called out, the raw commanding frequency of his voice softened by a sudden edge of urgency. He tucked his firearm back into his waistband and dropped to one knee beside the battered human. "Hold on. We’re getting you out of here."
Raphael’s eyelashes fluttered, his unfocused gaze finally pinning the Alpha. A flicker of sheer disbelief cut through the pain in his eyes.
"Christian...?" the actor croaked, his voice a dry, ruined whisper. "Why... are you here?"
"Let’s get you out of this hellhole, pretty boy," Christian countered, drawing a tactical blade to quickly and precisely slice through the heavy ropes binding the human’s wrists.
He glanced back over his shoulder toward the threshold. "Lucas, give me a hand. He can’t support his own weight."
The man nodded instantly, stepping into the room and carefully hooking his arms beneath Raphael’s shoulders to lift him. The human winced, his breath catching in a sharp wheeze, but he managed a faint, bewildered look of gratitude.
"Alpha Wayne, I did what you asked. Am I clear to go?" Josh asked from the hallway, his scent spiking with nervous desperation as he shifted away from the enforcers.
"No. You remain under pack custody until I extract the name of the handler who bought this contract," Christian commanded, his voice cold and absolute.
Lucas gave a sharp nod to the waiting guards. They lunged forward, locking heavy iron cuffs around Josh’s wrists and dragging him out toward the secondary vehicles.
"We need to move, now," Christian muttered as they maneuvered the injured human through the decaying corridors. His heightened senses were locked onto the surrounding forest, scanning every crack of timber and shifting breeze for potential ambushers.
The ominous, rotting structure quickly fell behind them as they reached the armored SUV. With practiced care, Lucas eased Raphael into the expansive leather backseat, ensuring his fractured ribs weren’t aggravated. His assistant shut the door with a quiet click, vaulted into the driver’s seat, and fired up the powerful engine.
"Take us directly to the medical center, Lucas. He’s losing too much blood," Christian ordered, sliding into the front passenger seat.
The SUV roared to life, tires tearing through the gravel as they sped away from the borderlands. The barren landscape blurred into a streak of dark shadows under Lucas’s aggressive driving. In their rearview mirror, the secondary convoy carrying Josh and the guards followed tightly, awaiting further orders at the main headquarters.
"Stay awake, man," Christian commanded, looking back at the human over his shoulder. "We’re almost at the clinic."
Minutes later, they blew through the emergency bay doors of the pack’s private hospital. Christian bypassed standard human intake protocols, pulling the lead trauma physician—who happened to be a werewolf and an avid follower of the actor’s work—into the bay.
The medical team immediately swarmed Raphael, treating his lacerations and administering blood transfusions. Once his vitals stabilized and his consciousness returned, the doctor stepped out to clear Christian for a brief visit, noting that the patient was stubbornly asking for his rescuer.
"I still can’t parse this," Raphael murmured, letting out a weak, raspy chuckle that instantly turned into a sharp wince as he clutched his ribs. "Of all the people in the world... I never thought the infamous Christian Wayne would break down doors for me."
"Take it easy, pretty boy," Christian replied, a small, wry smile touching his lips as he leaned against the bedside rail. "I had to ensure your safety. After all, I owe you an immense debt."
Raphael frowned, his bruised brow furrowing in confusion. "A debt? What are you talking about? I thought you wanted my head on a silver spike."
"A part of me still does," Christian admitted, his deep voice softening as the fierce protective aura around him dimmed. "But things have changed."
The actor stared at him, trying to reconcile this calm, almost reverent version of Christian with the lethal tyrant he had encountered before. For a moment, he wondered if the concussion was making him hallucinate the Alpha’s gentle demeanor.
"You protected my mate and my pups during the years I was exiled from them," Christian murmured, his throat tightening with a sudden surge of raw emotion as he thought of the staggering burdens Fleur had carried alone in the human world.
"Ah... that wasn’t a chore," Raphael breathed, a genuine gleam of pride and admiration coloring his pale features. "Your mate is a force of nature, Christian. Even if I hadn’t been around, she would have carved out a path for those kids. She’s incredible."
"I know," Christian said softly, his head bowing slightly. "She is entirely too good for a monster like me."
Before Raphael could reply, the heavy clinic door cracked open. Lucas poked his head into the room, his voice lowered to a sharp whisper. "Alpha, Miss Swann has just arrived in the lobby."
Christian had explicitly instructed his assistant to alert Fleur the moment Raphael was secure, knowing she was tearing the city apart in a panic. Though a sharp, possessive burn of jealousy flared deep in his wolf’s chest at how quickly she had rushed to another male’s side, Christian forced it down. This was the painful path of distance he had chosen to keep her safe.
"I’m leaving," Christian announced, his posture snapping back into a rigid, commanding line. He leveled an intense, unyielding stare at the human in the bed. "And you will not breathe a word to her that I know the truth—that she is my fated mate, and that Chloe and Gabriel carry my alpha blood."
Raphael stared up at him, entirely bewildered by the cryptic demand. "What? Why the hell would you hide that from her?"
"Because she is terrified of my world," Christian whispered, his lips curving into a bittersweet, tragic smile. "If she needs to believe I am oblivious just to feel safe around me... let her have her peace."
He turned on his heel and vanished into the private corridor just as the main doors burst open. Fleur rushed into the room, her scent a chaotic storm of anxiety and panic as her eyes locked onto Raphael’s battered form.