Page 23 of Alpha Bride

She’s not even going to tell me?

“Nothing you want to tell me?” I snap, and her head drops.

She sighs and leans back on the patio wall, “I take it you heard?” she says, gesturing to the phone in her hand. “I couldn’t see the healer earlier, but I left a blood sample. She just called, and—”

“And what?” I cut her off. “You just found out your plan has worked?”

Her eyes immediately fly to mine, and I see the fire ignite in her gaze. “My plan,” she repeats, slow and deliberate. “Are you out of your fucking mind? There is no plan.”

If I harbor any doubts, I push them away as I double down. “Get pregnant and what? The witches become central to the pack. Was this Marian’s plan? Bewitch me a—”

“You’re an idiot,” she says, interrupting me and storming toward the patio door. “I never bewitched you. I can work runes, but not spells. You must realize that by now. You got me pregnant, Tristen, stop acting like I did something to you.”

She storms through the house toward the front door.

“Where are you going?” I demand.

“Away from you,” she snaps, grabbing her purse.

Suddenly, I panic. What if she leaves the town? There are rogue sightings daily now on the trails. “Wait,” I call out, and she turns, her hand on the door. “Stay in the town; it’s not safe.”

“Sure thing, Alpha,” she replies, slamming the door.

The house falls into complete silence apart from the ringing in my ears and the pounding of my head.Pregnant.I’m going to be a father. My child will be a witch-shifter hybrid. I don’t know what to think. But one thing is for certain: nothing can happen to Emily.

I pull out my phone and message Ryan, telling him to trail Emily without her seeing, make sure she stays in the town, and, for goddess's sake, don’t ask me any questions. He seems to read the room for once and simply replies with a thumbs-up. I sink into a chair, the weight of everything hitting me like a truck.

Pregnant.

Chapter 12 - Emily

I wake several times throughout the night, tossing and turning in my large, empty bed. Considering I have slept alone all my life, having only shared Tristen’s bed for a few weeks, sleeping alone shouldn’t feel so strange. And yet, it does.

After I stormed out, I walked around town, stopping at the bakery for some of Mrs. McCormik’s sweet buns before walking over to the refuge to share them with some of the young rogue witches. To be honest, I just wanted to do something practical with people who wouldn’t ask too many questions about my situation. I wanted to talk about their situations and completely ignore the fact I’d just found out I was pregnant, and Tristen practically rejected me and our baby on the spot.

I held it together remarkably well, staying at the shelter late into the night until it became too obvious I was stalling. Then, I headed back to the house, hoping Tristen wouldn’t be there—and he wasn’t.

The whole house was shrouded in darkness, which might have been a bit intimidating if it hadn’t been for the fact that Ryan had been stalking my every move all day and was right there if anything was off. I may not have shifter senses, but I’m not sure Ryan is cut out for surveillance work. He was the most obvious trail imaginable. Presumably sent to follow me and make sure I don’t collude with my coven or run away before Tristen figures out what to do with me…and our baby.

Our baby.

And just like that, I’m wide awake again. My hand flies to my still-flat stomach as I stare at the ceiling in the early morning light. With no available distractions, I can’t run from my reality. The saddest part is that when the healer told me, she sounded sohappy for me, and for just a moment, although shocked, I found myself picturing a little child who looked like Tristen. But as quickly as the daydream appeared, it was shattered the moment I turned around and saw his face.

I don’t know why I expected anything different. I’ve always known how Tristen feels about witches—the joke is on me. How many times does he have to reject me and everything about me before I take the hint?

But rejecting our baby, his baby. That’s a whole different level.

I try to listen for signs of him in the house, wondering if he’s going to come and check I’m here. The last thing I want to do is face him this morning. I’m angry, but I’m also wobbly as hell. I need to figure out my own head first.

I needn’t have worried about him wanting to seek me out; by the time I hear him, it’s the sound of the front door shutting. I close my eyes and sigh, determined not to cry, before slipping from the bed and wandering over to the window. I just about catch his retreating form as he gets into his truck and pulls out without so much as a backward glance. I’m about to turn away when someone else catches my eye. I roll my eyes at the figure sitting in his truck, drinking a coffee on the other side of the road and clearly watching the house and me: Ryan.

I guess no one got much sleep last night.

Sighing, I sit back down on the bed and pick up my phone. Part of me wants to shove all of this deep down and not deal with any of it. But becoming a mother isn’t something I can just ignore, and if there’s one person who will understand what I’m about to go through and what it means to be rejected, it’s Ava.

I almost hang up as soon as the ringing starts, but she answers so quickly I don’t have a chance.

“Hey Em,” she says, concern in her voice, “everything okay?”

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