Page 76 of Alpha's Impostor Bride

I follow her instructions, bumping into the furniture as I walk through the front room. For a man of my size, this place is highly inconvenient. I am used to large spaces where I can move about with ease. This tiny house is cramped and uncomfortable.

“Stop breaking stuff!” Maya says, her voice distressed. “All these things are important to Leanna!”

Hearing her say that, I try to step more carefully. The first door on the right leads to a bedroom. It’s much smaller than the one I used to share with my mate. In fact, the bathroom alone back at the castle is twice this size. But as I lay Leanna down on the bed, I realize this whole house smells like her.

Maya follows me, carrying a black bag now. After putting on gloves, she touches the hem of Leanna’s shirt before glaring at me. “Would you leave the room so I can undress her?”

“Go ahead.” I cross my arms over my chest. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Get out.” She stands up, facing me. “I’m not letting you take away her dignity.”

I look at my mate, and my jaw tightens. “Fine.”

As I walk out of the room, Maya says out of the blue, “Just stay out there in the hallway. Don’t go opening any other doors.”

I shut the door to the bedroom and park myself outside it. Where else would I even go in this cramped space?

However, curiosity gets the better of me, and I look around. There are small things littered everywhere.

I recall how reluctant Leanna was to decorate her room in the castle, or even our room during the time she was with me. But here, she’s made this place her own.

I don’t know what this strange ache is in my chest as I rub it. What does this tiny hut have that the castle didn’t?

I hear soft footfalls from down the hall and then the sound of a toilet flushing. A door opens, and a young boy walks out, rubbing his eyes. “Mom? Why are you making so much noise?”

That must be Finn, the young wolf pup. In his human form, he looks to be around seven to eight years old. When he lowers his hand from his face, I get a jolt. Those eyes!

It can’t be. Amber eyes?

Erik said this child was his. But Erik’s eyes are green, and Leanna’s are brown. This child’s eyes are amber. Like mine. And he has dark curls, the same color as mine.

“Boy, come here.”

The child focuses on me and freezes, terror written all over his face. He takes a step back. “M–Mom?”

I see the fear and panic in his expression, and I know that he’s about to make a run for it. Before he can, I grab him by the front of his shirt and lift him in the air till we are nose to nose. “Who’s your father?”

Tears well up in his eyes. “I don’t like you!”

“I asked you a question!”

“I want my mom!” he whimpers.

I give him a little shake. “Men don’t cry like this!” Exasperation fills me. “When I was your age, I was out in the battlefield, not whining for my mother. Are you a suckling fool?”

He sniffles. “W–What? What’s that?”

“You, apparently,” I say gruffly. “A boy your age should be protecting his mother, not calling out for her to protect him.”

He wipes his eyes. “I can protect my mom.”

“You don’t look like it,” I comment. “Scraggly little thing like you.”

“I’m not scraggly!” he protests, and this time I see the fire in his eyes. “Let me go!”

“Why?” I raise one brow. “So you can go crying to your mother?”

“I am not a crybaby!” He sniffles again before kicking his arms and legs, forcing me to release him. To his credit, he doesn’t make a break for it.

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