Their Secret Obsession (A Reverse Harem) by Pippa Moon novel Chapter 301

Adam's POV

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I watched Lottie sleep. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across her face, highlighting the delicate curve of her cheek and the flutter of her dark eyelashes against her skin. Her breaths were slow and steady, a soothing rhythm that momentarily eased the storm inside me.

My fingers traced light circles on her back, feeling the warmth of her through the thin fabric of her shirt. Each touch was a silent promise to protect her, no matter the cost. My gaze drifted to her growing belly, and I noticed a subtle movement—a tiny ripple beneath the surface. Without thinking, I rested my hand gently on her stomach. Almost immediately, a small kick pressed back against my palm.

A flood of emotions washed over me. The sensation was both beautiful and bittersweet, pulling me back to memories I'd locked away. I was transported to a time when I'd sit just like this with Emma, my late mate. I could almost hear her laughter as she'd tease me for talking to our unborn daughter.

"She knows your voice," Emma would say, her eyes sparkling with joy. I'd place my hand on her belly, feeling those little kicks and wiggles, each one filling me with a happiness I never thought possible. But that happiness was fleeting, stolen away too soon. The ache of their loss was still there, a dull pain that never fully subsided.

I blinked away the memories, focusing back on Lottie. This wasn't about me. It was about her and the new life she was bringing into the world. Yet, the fear of losing someone else I cared about gnawed at me. I couldn't let anything happen to her. Lottie stirred beside me, her eyelids fluttering open. She offered a sleepy smile.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice husky with sleep.

"Hey yourself," I replied softly, returning her smile. She began to push herself up, but a soft knock at the door interrupted her. Her brow furrowed in mild annoyance.

"Really? I am pooped." she mumbled, moving to sit up. I chuckled, gently pressing her back down.

"Rest," I insisted. "I asked for food to be brought up, that's all it is." It was a small lie, but one I hoped would keep her at ease. Her eyes lit up slightly, and I almost felt bad for lying.

"It better be fries. I'm craving fries," she said, stretching and reaching for the TV remote.

"Leave it to me," I assured her, standing up. Before opening the door, I glanced back to see her eyes drifting closed again. A small smile played on my lips. She needed the rest.

As I approached the door, Savage stirred within me. "She needs sleep," I thought.

"We also need to get her out of here," Savage grumbled, his deep voice echoing in my mind.

"I know, and we will as soon as we can," I responded silently.

"Why are we waiting?" he pressed, a hint of frustration seeping through.

"Because I can't bear to break her heart and pull her away from them. She's happier than I've seen her in months." I sighed inwardly.

"Happiness won't matter if she's in danger. You know what's at stake." Savage huffed.

He was right, of course. The threats lurking around us were very real, and time was not on our side. But seeing Lottie smile, hearing her laugh—it was something I hadn't witnessed in far too long. I couldn't take that away from her.

Not yet.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door. Standing there was Kane, his hand raised as if he was about to knock again. His eyes met mine, a mixture of urgency and determination shining in them. There was a newfound strength about him, an air of resolve that hadn't been there before.

Before he could speak, I pressed a finger to my lips, signalling silence. His brow furrowed, but he nodded. I stepped into the hallway, closing the door gently behind me.

"Kane," I said evenly, keeping my voice low. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I speak to Charlotte?" he asked, his tone earnest. I wanted to say yes, but those words escaped me in their place was a pure rage I was struggling to keep bottled up, why I wasn't sure. I leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing my arms, doing my best not to punch the fucker and act calm.