A Wolf In Wolf's Clothing by Deborah MacGillivray Read Free Book Online Page A

Raven only a few months after the wedding to realize what was happening.
    No, whatever fleeting emotions she’d felt were already dead by the time Raven caught Alec boffing his secretary, Ellen Lister. But complicating matters, Raven had found she was four months pregnant. That was why she’d gone to the office: to tell him he was going to be a father. She hadn’t wanted Alec, but she had wanted the baby. Her baby.
    Alec had proved a blackguard. After she filed for divorce, he countersued, actually having the gall to seek alimony, hoping to cause her so much grief that Cian would pay him to vanish. Raven’s brother had indeed entertained half a notion of doing precisely that, but Alec demanded a big chunk of ME stock. Raven just wanted him to get to Hell and be gone from from her life, to leave her in peace to build a new future for herself and her child, and giving him stock would have only bound them tighter together.
    Alec, of course, saw how much she wanted the baby. He had seized upon her need as a tool, saying he planned on pushing for joint custody. Blackmail, plain and simple. The stress too much for her, Raven suffered a miscarriage. And while Alec showed up in her hospital room, feigning concern, she’d never forget how quickly the scene disintegrated into him yet again berating her into tears and admitting that, while the child would’ve been an advantage to use against Cian, losing the baby was ultimately for the best—he wasn’t cut out to play father to some snot-nosed brat.
    Some snot-nosed brat? Their baby? Her baby? She had lain there sobbing for a long time after he left; then the family heard her screaming. It had just seemed to comeout in one long agonizing wail of pain, and she hadn’t been able to stop.
    Raven’s hands trembled as she went through the motions of drying her gown. She was losing it again. So damn pathetic. After the breakdown, her mind had buried all the ugliness from that period, put it away in a shoebox where she hadn’t had to deal. Now, however, the shoebox was dumped and the ugly contents spilled out. Everything seemed to be closing in on her, to where she wanted to open her mouth and let loose with another ear-piercing scream. She told herself to breathe, that she was stronger now…but then she absentmindedly glanced at Ellen and spotted her very round belly.
    How utterly obscene! Ellen was expecting, was maybe seven or eight months along. Raven swallowed the bubble of hysterical laughter rising in her throat, so wanting to ask Ellen if Alec was looking forward to being a father to her snot-nosed brat. It took all her willpower to keep from wrapping her arms across her stomach, cosseting echoes of the phantom presence that once had lived inside her.
    As if things couldn’t get any worse, Alec strolled up behind his wife. Sensing him, Ellen turned and flashed a radiant smile. Raven told herself to hang on, swallowing hard. Paganne was close by her side, and Brishen would return any minute. He could stake Alec through the heart for practice, then all would be right with the world.
    Alec smiled that damn jackal smile of his. Oh, how Raven hated that expression—a reflection of glee at seeing someone weaker than himself to torture. He was five years older now, his sandy brown hair starting to thin. Knowing how vain he was, that brought a smirk. Likely, he spent a bloody fortune on hair regrowth solutions. Leaner, his face was etched with the ugliness in his soul. As Raven stared at him, it almost felt as if she looked at a stranger. No emotions rose within her other than hatredfor him…and anger at herself for being so stupid to have ever trusted the worm.
    “Ah, Raven and little Paganne. Such adorable names your mother gave you,” he said, meaning just the opposite. He touched his wife’s arm in reassurance, and she offered him another sappy grin, oblivious to the undercurrent of emotion rippling around her.
    “Poor deluded woman,” Paganne muttered under her breath.