Page 22 of Alpha Bride

“That is good news,” I tell him, climbing from my bed and reaching for my pants. “Mind if I sit in?” I ask, knowing better than to step on another alpha’s toes, even if he is my brother.

Aiden chuckles over the phone. “Figured you’d want to. I’ve put a call into Callum, too,” he tells me. “We all need a break in this.”

“Damn right, we do,” I mutter, turning to see Emily has already slipped from the bed and is in the en-suite. As I hang up with Aiden, having agreed on a location, I pause, almost driven with pure need to slip into the shower with Emily. Shaking my head, I know I need to focus on getting to Aiden’s territory as quickly as possible. He’s done me the courtesy of extending an invite to the interrogations, but he’s not going to wait for me to arrive.

Just as I’m about to knock and tell Emily I’m heading out, the en-suite door swings open. I’m immediately struck by how pale she looks—almost nauseous. I reach my hand out to steady her.

“Hey, are you okay?” I ask. My wolf is immediately on alert with concern, which just annoys me for some reason.

“Yeah, I just feel a bit off,” she says wearily. “I read those books all day yesterday, for hours. I had a headache by the time I was done; I think it’s just that.”

It occurs to me that I have no idea if witches really get sick. Even our pack medic only deals with shifters. “Er, maybe you should get checked out. You’re seeing some of your sisters later? Your healer will be there?”

She nods. “Yeah, she is coming in to treat some of the rogue witches that have sought sanctuary. I’ll ask her,” she says, rubbing her eyes.

I lean forward to kiss her forehead; it’s almost instinctive, and I freeze for a moment, realizing that what began as purely sexual has morphed into something much more intimate. When I pull away, her usually guarded expression looks softer and more open, and her cheeks are flushed despite her paleness. I wonder if she’s thinking it, too.

The drive over to Aiden’s territory doesn’t take long, and I’m grateful to have picked up Ryan on the way; his inane banter distracts me from thinking about Emily for a while. I make a mental note to ask our medic about the need for someone with experience in treating non-shifters. I’m sure Emily is fine, but it made me realize there’s no one for a non-shifter to turn to in the town. I may not like or trust the witches, but I’m still the alpha, which means taking care of everyone.

By the time we reach the cabin Aiden uses as a makeshift holding cell for the rogues, the interrogation is obviously underway, given the screams radiating throughout the clearing. I have no more sympathy left to give these rogues. They’ve aligned themselves with Malik and killed so many good wolves. And witches, I guess. If I could ever have been accused of being too soft on them when they were the misfits living on the edge of our packs, causing low-level problems, that sympathy is long gone.

Now, I just want answers and an end to Malik. We all do.

As we enter the old cabin, Aiden glances up from the bloodied rogue he’s questioning. Callum obviously arrived earlier and is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a tense scowl on his face as he watches the proceedings. His beta stands next to him, looking as grim as he always does. The three of us have always been close, even before we became alphas. Now, we’re bound by duty and shared loss more than ever.

“What have we got?” I ask, not sugar-coating it. I’m here for answers, not small talk.

Aiden straightens up, wiping his bloody hands on a rag nearby. “They’re tough bastards,” he admits, jerking his head toward the unconscious rogue on the floor. “This one won’t break easy.”

Callum pushes off the wall and cracks his knuckles. “I haven’t had a challenge in a while,” he smirks coldly.

The next few hours are a blur of interrogations that prove more useful as the day wears on—the rogues, obviously hearing the desperate pleas for mercy of the ones who go before and receive none, are more inclined to crack.

By the time the afternoon is done, we’ve garnered a lot of useful information about the rogue's hideouts, how they’ve avoided capture, and their use of imprisoned witches who give them cloaking spells—but thankfully, can’t overrule the runes we’re currently using. It won’t take them much longer, though. Annoyingly, none appear to know where Malik came from or where he’s living. At first, I didn’t believe them, but after we enhanced our interrogation tactics, it’s clear they’d have broken if they knew anything.

Still, we’ve ended the day with a decent amount of new knowledge, which is something given how much Malik exists in a shroud of mystery. We offer to help Aiden’s pack to clean up, but he shoos us off, saying he’d never expect guests to tidy up after a party; taking in the blood-stained cabin as Ryan and I walk out, I mutter, “Hell of a party.”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Ryan laughs. “I wouldn’t want to be cleaning that up. Better to just torch the cabin and be done with it.”

“I think Aiden’s going to leave it standing as a warning; it’s right on the border, so the rogues will find it, and their men, eventually,” I say.

“Grim but effective,” Ryan mutters as we get in my truck. “Now, let’s get you back to your witch, though you might want to shower first.”

He indicates to my hands, and I look down, noting I’ve done a poor job of wiping the rogue’s blood from my hands. I wipe them on my pants with a grimace. “Very funny, just drive.”

I don’t argue, though; part of me is looking forward to getting back to her and sharing what we’ve learned today, but not the methods we used to get the information. I realize that I don’t want her to see that side of me. I don’t want her to think badly of me. That thought alone throws me off; I shouldn’t care. I think differently about her because she’s not a shifter; a shifter female would welcome my display of strength. Part of me wonders what a witch would think. Not that they aren’t vicious in their own way.

I drop Ryan off at the center in high spirits, flipping him the bird as he makes kissing noises through the window. I can’t help but crack a smile and drive back to the cabin feeling lighter than I have in a while. It wasn’t all good news with the rogues, and I wish we’d got a better lead on Malik, but some of the information was good. I know Emily will want to coordinate with the witches on some of it. Better she does it; Marian scares the life out of everyone else.

The door is unlocked, so I know Emily’s here, but the house is quiet when I enter. I follow her scent through the kitchen, pausing to wash my hands thoroughly and trace her to the back porch. She has her back to me, and it makes me chuckle when I consider how much easier it is to sneak up on awitch. A female shifter would have sensed me a mile off; there’s no element of surprise. But Emily remains blissfully unaware as I watch from behind the screen. She’s completely absorbed in her phone conversation, pacing up and down the deck; the movement causes her dress to sway around her evocatively, and I pause momentarily, admiring her form and considering how much my hands itch to reach out and touch her.

I’m about to clear my throat and get her attention when I hear something that stops me cold. “I-I don’t understand,” she says, the tremble in her voice clear. “Are you absolutely sure I’m pregnant? Could it be a mistake?”

Pregnant.

My whole world tilts, and I don’t really take in what she says next. She appears to be ending the call, though. I completely shove down my wolf, who is desperate to go to her, while the man in me rages. She knew this morning—she had to have at least suspected. And then it hits me; this is what she wanted all along. She’s now luna and carrying my child, cementing her position and the witches within our pack.

She turns and sees me standing there; undeniable guilt flashes across her face. “Tristen,” she murmurs, “I didn’t know you were back.”

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