The Alpha Of The Shadow Pack And His Mute Luna (by Beatrice Putnam) novel Chapter 150

Chapter 150

Vanessa’s Perspective

I couldn’t believe Alfred had actually agreed to wear the matching outfit I had carefully chosen for us. He had made such a big deal about it beforehand, insisting it didn’t suit his personality at all. I was certain he hadn’t even brought it up to his father, and he’d made it clear he had no intention of doing so. From some old family photos I’d seen, I knew his mother had insisted that the children wear matching outfits at times. It seemed Alfred was following that tradition, whether he liked it or not. Honestly, he looked adorable in the sailor suit during their cruise—especially with the boat visible in the background. I was surprised that the King and Queen managed to find time for such trips, given the enormous responsibilities they carried. Who did they leave in charge when they went away on vacation? This was crucial information for me since one day I would become queen after Alfred’s mother passed. The thought of that day filled me with dread, and I couldn’t help but pace anxiously, my mind racing with questions. How would Alfred handle it when the time came? It was a day I feared but knew was inevitable.

A heavy sense of foreboding settled over me, a feeling that this moment might arrive sooner rather than later. I resolved to speak with Alfred about increasing security measures around his mother—I was genuinely worried about her safety. Was this unease part of some power I possessed? I hoped not. I didn’t want to be burdened with such a gift.

We climbed into the car and headed to the hospital, my excitement bubbling over at the thought of bringing Junior home. I could hardly sit still, my body practically humming with anticipation. Upon arrival, I went straight to the nursery, Alfred struggling to keep pace behind me. As I busied myself with changing and feeding Junior, Alfred chatted with the nurses. When it was time to leave, the nurses lined the hallway, bowing respectfully as we passed. I was baffled by the ceremony—was this really all for an alpha pup? Back in my home pack, even the birth of boys wasn’t marked with such extravagance.

Several guards followed us in separate vehicles. I made a mental note to ask Alfred about all these formalities later. For now, I wanted to savor the moment. When we reached the pack house, Alfred escorted me and Junior to the chairs that had been arranged for us. A cradle sat beside my seat, intended for Junior’s naps, but I refused to put him down. The nannies hovered nearby, eager to take him so I could eat, but every time they reached for him, I growled firmly. Eventually, I allowed Tessa—the youngest nanny—to hold Junior while I slipped to the bathroom, though she stayed right outside the door. There was no way I was going to let Junior out of my sight, especially since Monica, that vile woman, was still at large. Mac had been called back to prepare party favors, and Veronica remained locked in the dungeon, awaiting her punishment. The fear that someone might harm my baby gnawed at me relentlessly.

I stayed close to the seating area, chatting with some of the other mothers. They shared advice—some practical, some downright bizarre. I politely dismissed the crazier suggestions. Meanwhile, Junior grew increasingly fussy despite my best efforts to soothe him. It was a clear sign it was time to leave. I told Alfred it was time for us to head home. He accompanied us to the door and helped us into the car. The drive was short, and when we arrived at the house, the interior was dark and quiet. I had Chris come inside with us for extra support. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a sharp blow struck the back of my head. I struggled to keep my balance, terrified I might drop Junior. I collapsed to the floor, then heard a chilling voice.

“Stay the hell away from Alfred, break your bond, and leave.”

Chris rushed in just as the attacker fled out the back door. He quickly took Junior from my arms and helped me onto the couch. I pressed my hand to my head and felt warm blood trickling down my fingers. When Chris turned on the light, I could see the wound clearly—blood pooling on the floor beneath me. As he handed me a towel to stem the bleeding, Alfred burst into the room.

“Are you okay?” he asked, panic evident in his voice.

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