Chapter 125

Hannah

Viona and I exchanged wary looks as Scott approached. Despite myself, I slid over to allow him to sit with us, even though my heart was pounding.

“Scott,” I said, trying to keep my tone even. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Where have you been?”

Scott sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he slid into the booth beside me. It was true; I hadn’t seen him in weeks. “Noah sent me overseas, actually,” he replied, sipping his beer.

“Overseas?” I exchanged another glance with Viona, who was practically digging her fingernails straight through her glass because she was gripping it so tightly. “Why did he send you overseas?”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “You don’t know?”

I gaped at him for a moment. “No, Scott,” I said sarcastically. “I don’t know anything about my husband’s antics. I thought you would have gathered that by now.”

Scott cringed visibly and ruffled his hair again, taking a long drag of his beer. Beneath the table, Viona kicked my ankle—it was all I could do not to yelp in pain and surprise, but when I met her gaze, I could see the whites all the way around her eyes and I knew exactly what she was thinking.

How much had Scott heard? And how much trust could we have in him if he heard about the pregnancy?

When Scott had finished drinking, he set his glass down and wiped his mouth with a nearby napkin. “I probably shouldn’t tell you,” he said, causing me to narrow my eyes, “but I will.”

“Okay. Spill.”

Scott sighed. “Noah sent me abroad to look for your family doctor. Said he was missing and that he left under… mysterious circumstances.”

Mysterious circumstances… I furrowed my brow, thinking back to the day I had found out about our family doctor’s sudden leave of absence, along with the incident involving WhiteRabbit. I had all but forgotten about that whole thing, although it was always in the back of my mind in some capacity or another.

But most importantly, what was Noah’s reason for wanting to find our family doctor? Whatever it was had to be a pretty big deal if he was sending his own Beta and half-brother overseas to hunt him down.

“Why did he send you?” Viona suddenly blurted out, asking my question for me. “I don’t mean that in a bad way, Scott. It just seems weird that he’d send his own Beta away to look for a doctor.”

Scott glanced over at Viona and shrugged. “Beats me. He just told me I had to find him.”

“And? Did you?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. I looked all over, followed every lead. Showed up at every hotel in the area, asked every local, tracked down every last scrap of CCTV footage. The guy just… disappeared.”

Disappeared.

Just like WhiteRabbit.

I opened my mouth to ask Scott more questions, but it was obvious that he had told us all he knew—so I shut it again. With a heavy sigh, I exchanged one last glance with Viona and took a sip of my drink.

“Well… Welcome back,” I said, raising my glass.

“I’m glad to be back. Although, it’s a lot colder here,” Scott laughed. There was a pause as we all sipped our drinks, and then he continued. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop earlier, by the way. I just heard you mention that you had to talk to Noah about something.”

Viona kicked my ankle beneath the table again. This time I wasn’t able to contain my yelp, eliciting a curious glance from Scott.

“It’s nothing, Scott,” I finally said with a wave of my hand. “It’s… personal.”

“Oh.” His eyes flickered between me and Viona for a moment. “Well, if there’s anything I can do to help…”

I paused, ready to tell him thanks-but-no-thanks, but then thought better of it.

“Actually,” I said, “I think there is something you can do for me, Scott. But this has to stay between us.”

“Of course, Luna Hannah. Whatever you need.”

“I need you to research an internet user known as WhiteRabbit.”

…

“Drake?” I called out as I stepped into the dimly lit training center. “You in here?”

“Over here!”

I followed the sound of Drake’s voice, and there he was—stretching off to the side of the sparring ring, his muscles straining against his shirt and his hair slightly mussed from his motorcycle helmet. It was early, although not nearly as early as my training sessions with Noah.

“Are you ready to get started?” he asked as I approached, a cheeky grin on his face. “Ready for some real training?”

I pursed my lips. “My training with Noah is real,” I retorted.

Drake huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. But, yes. I’m ready.”

With that, we stepped into the ring. Our training session began much as it did the last time we were here—practicing punches and kicks first, followed by footwork, and then rigorous grappling on the mat.

“It’s best if you avoid letting your arms get separated, like this,” Drake explained, positioning himself on top of me with one arm to my left side and the other up beside my head. “Grab my arm that’s by your head, pull, and watch what happens.”

I did as he said, and suddenly, his hands splayed out further. He fell on top of me, nearly crushing me beneath his weight—and because of his stance with one arm trapped, he was helpless in getting back up on his own.

“See how I just lost my balance easily?” he asked. “It’s better not to stagger your limbs like that; it makes it too easy for an attacker to gain control.”

Nodding, I bit the inside of my cheek and continued training.

We went on like that for some time, practicing basic moves and grapples. He took it slowly, teaching me how to not only get him into various holds but also to get out of those same holds myself.

“Alright,” he finally said, standing and helping me to my feet. “Let’s practice a little sparring, shall we? Just sixty seconds.”

“Sixty seconds?” I cocked my head. “That’s not a very long time.”

Drake chuckled. “It feels like a lot longer when you’re in it.”

With that, we set the timer and began to circle each other. I kept my stance low and wide, just as both Drake and Noah had taught me, my hands up and head ducked. I lunged forward on one leg, wrapping my arms around Drake’s waist in an attempt to get him down on his back, but he was too powerful.

Suddenly, the world was tilting under me as he returned my grapple, flipped me, and threw me on my back.

I felt the breath leave my lungs. Drake stepped back, allowing me to climb to my feet, my head reeling.

“Try again,” he ordered.

With a nod, I regained my composure and lunged again—but I was even slower now, and this time, Drake aimed a blow at me.

A blow aimed straight at my stomach.

Something awakened in me at that moment. Something that only a mother could feel. A feral growl ripped from my throat, and suddenly, I was lurching backwards, falling to a crouch a good few feet away—like a cat prepared to pounce.

“Don’t go for my stomach like that!” I snarled, fire burning in my eyes as one hand clutched my belly.

Drake’s eyes widened as they flickered to my belly, where my hand was still protectively clutched, and then to my face—and recognition dawned across his features as he saw the blazing fury in my gaze.

“Hannah,” he breathed, “are you…?”