My Possessive Alpha Twins For Mate Chapter 295

Logan's POV

“She left?”

The words made it through, but my brain couldn’t process them.

“What the hell do you mean she left?”

I was two hours away, locked in a meeting I couldn’t duck out of without delaying a critical part of our construction project. And all Liam could say was ‘she left.’ Was he trying to send me into cardiac arrest?

“I screwed up… and she walked out,” he confessed, his voice hollow, defeated—and that terrified me.

Liam doesn’t screw up. Ever.

What the hell could he have possibly done to make her leave? Everything had been fine just a couple of hours ago. So fine, I’d had to stop at a gas station and clean up before continuing to the meeting. Thank the Goddess I had spare clothes in the car.

“I want the full story, Liam, and I want it now!” I barked into the phone, snapping myself out of the spiraling thoughts. “Talk to me!”

He spilled everything—fast. And I could only shake my head.

He’d snapped at her. In public. Like she was a misbehaving pup. And he hadn’t even taken a moment to find out what had her rushing in like that.

Even I knew better than to disrespect her like that.

My girl has a temper—and she doesn’t take disrespect lightly. Now she’d taken off in Liam’s truck and had been gone for more than ninety minutes. She could be anywhere. And since Liam had already checked with her father and she wasn’t there, my gut twisted with anxiety.

Pacing outside the architect’s office, I racked my brain. Where would she go? I could think of two people she might turn to—but reaching either of them was a stretch.

Isolde, her best friend, was likely at work. And then there was Silas…

That bastard would jump at the chance to show up if she called. Especially if he thought he could wedge himself between us. If he even touched her, I’d tear him limb from limb.

But what if she wasn’t with either of them?

What if she’d crashed? Was lying somewhere, bleeding, alone?

No—our bond was still intact. I could feel it. She wasn’t dead. But I wouldn’t breathe easy until Ian tracked her down and told us she was okay. I needed to end this meeting. Now.

I re-entered the office, tension etched across my face.

“Everything alright?” Lorian, our friend and architect, looked up from his plans.

“I hope so,” I muttered. “I’ll need to cut this short. Can we go over the essentials so your team can get started, and pick up the rest another time?”

“Of course,” he said with a knowing look.

“Mate trouble, huh?” He tapped his ear in reminder. Wolf hearing didn’t miss much.

“Just a misunderstanding,” I said with more conviction than I felt. “I’ll fix it. But I need to be there to do that.”

In thirty minutes, we had the key points covered. I was on the road, heading back to Blood Moon. I hoped to cut the drive time in half, but traffic had other plans.

Every minute that ticked by only amped up my desperation.

When I finally pulled up to the pack house, I hadn’t heard a damn thing. No messages. No updates.

I barely killed the engine before jumping out. Liam was already rushing out the front door.

“Where is she?” I growled, voice thunderous. “Why hasn’t anyone told me anything?”

“She’s upstairs. Sleeping,” he said, voice low and calm, trying to defuse my fury.

I exhaled sharply, relief crashing into me like a wave.

But I wasn’t done.

“Why the fuck didn’t you call me to say she was safe?” I snarled, teeth gritted.

“I did!” he growled back. “I called you multiple times. Straight to voicemail. Check your damn phone!”

I yanked it out of my pocket and stared at the black screen. Dead. Of course. I cursed and shoved it back into my jeans.

“Where are you going?” he asked, catching my arm as I brushed past him.

“To see my mate. Where the hell do you think?”

Yeah, I was still being a jackass—but I didn’t care. My wolf had been pacing non-stop since Liam dropped the bombshell. He wouldn’t settle until we laid eyes on her.

“I get it, Logan,” Liam said, sighing. “Just… don’t wake her, alright? She had to rush to Crystal Moon—an emergency with one of her patients. She looked ready to collapse when she got home.”

That only made my worry worse.

“I won’t wake her,” I muttered, yanking my arm free and heading inside.

I took the stairs three at a time, but slowed as I approached her door, softening my steps.

I eased the door open and poked my head in.

The sight of her—safe, resting, her heartbeat steady—was all it took for my wolf to quiet down. I left the door ajar, ducked into my room to change, then came back and locked us inside.

I dragged a chair to her bedside and angled it to watch her face.

Even though my wolf was at peace, I still felt like I was barely holding myself together.

I needed to see her. Smell her. Feel her. To remind myself she was still mine.

But instead of calming me, the closer I sat, the angrier I got.

She left. Without a word. Knowing she wasn’t marked—meaning we couldn’t track her. She knew how that would affect me. Knew I’d go out of my mind.

How could she do that to me?

My fists curled tightly, knuckles straining with the pressure. I needed release. Needed to own her again. To assert control.

And I would.

But not yet.

She needed rest. And I would give her that—for now.

She slept for another hour, and I didn’t take my eyes off her once. My hands ached to touch her, to hold her, but I restrained myself. I waited.

I knew the moment she began to stir—her heart rate gave it away.

The second her eyes opened, I was beside her, lifting her into my arms and settling her on my lap, holding her like my sanity depended on it.

She hummed sleepily, snuggling into my neck, and I buried my face in her skin, inhaling deeply.

Eventually, she leaned back, meeting my eyes—those soft, ocean-blue eyes filled with unspoken questions.

I knew what she was asking, even without words. But I didn’t have the words to answer.

So instead, I asked her the one thing that mattered.

“Do you trust me?”