Reclaimed By My Alpha (Natalia and Andrei) novel Chapter 61

Andrei

A fierce wave of anger surged through me as I watched Natalia turn and walk away. The chill in her demeanor cut deeper than I expected, leaving me stunned by how cold and distant she had become. She hadn’t even spared me the courtesy of explaining anything about the abortion—no words, no explanations, just silence.

My fists clenched so tightly that my nails pressed painfully into my palms. How could she? How dare she act like I was nothing more than a stranger to her now?

I rose to my feet and motioned for my Beta and warrior to follow. Without hesitation, I set off after Natalia, my fury simmering just beneath the surface, ready to boil over. Earlier, I might have allowed my eyes to linger on her lithe figure, encased in those tight leather clothes, but now, all I felt was a burning desire to shake some sense into her—or maybe just to throttle someone.

Did she have any idea what her supposed “death” had done to me? To our pack? Did she even care about the chaos and pain she left behind?

The memory of the funeral flashed in my mind. Standing there, staring at the pyre, feeling as if someone had hollowed out my chest with a melon baller, watching flames consume a body that wasn’t even hers. I had finally opened up, spoken honestly from the depths of my heart—how I regretted never showing her she was loved, how I longed for a chance to make things right.

And all the while, she was out there somewhere, very much alive, planning a new life with my brother.

Had she been this cold all along? Or had Damon somehow twisted her, manipulated her until she became this unfeeling shell, capable of talking about aborting our child as if it were nothing?

We continued the patrol in a heavy silence. Natalia pointed out weaknesses in our defenses, suggested new patrol schedules and guard rotations—business as usual. I forced myself to adopt a professional demeanor, even though my wolf growled beneath my skin, furious and betrayed.

Still, something about the whole situation didn’t sit right with me.

I kept returning to the image of her looking at that dying fawn—the tears welling in her eyes. She had always loved animals, especially the young ones. That part of her hadn’t changed over the years.

So how could she speak so coldly about our own child?

Unless…

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