Page 65 of Chased By My Grumpy Alpha
“Well, they never really saw me that way.” I shrug emotionlessly.
“That seems shortsighted of them.” He shakes his head. “Their loss is certainly my gain.”
The conversation flows more naturally after that, and I feel some of the strangeness I’ve been experiencing starting to fade. Maybe it is simply the adjustment—after years of dreaming about this life, perhaps the reality has taken time to feel right.
Then, Andrew says something that catches me completely off guard.
“There’s something else we should discuss,” he begins gently. “Children.”
I blink in confusion. “Children? Andrew, I already told you, I can’t have children. Remember? It’s one of the conditions of leaving the pack to marry a human.”
“Oh, right, of course.” He shakes his head, but there’s something odd about the gesture. “I just meant—I was wondering if you were absolutely certain about that. If maybe there were exceptions, or ways around it.”
“Ways around it?” I study his face, puzzled. “Andrew, it’s magical law. There’s no getting around it. When I chose to leave for a human life, that was one of the things I gave up.”
“Right, right.” He nods quickly, but his eyes have a strange intensity to them. “But what if you did have children, and they inherited some of your abilities? Even if they were technically human?”
“That’s not how it works.” I’m becoming more confused by the second. “Why are you asking about this again? You seemed to understand when I explained it before.”
“I do understand,” he says, but his smile appears forced now. “I just want to make sure we’ve explored every possibility. Maybe talk to someone who might know more about these laws than we do.”
A strange chill runs down my spine. “Andrew, the laws are absolute. There’s no negotiating with magical exile conditions. And even if there were, why would you want to? I thought you said you were fine with just the two of us.”
“I am, I am.” But he’s not meeting my eyes now, and I can see him struggling with it. “I just thought...maybe someday...”
“Maybe what?” My voice is sharper now because something about this conversation is making me deeply uncomfortable.“You want me to risk everything we’ve built to chase after something I’ve told you is impossible?”
“No, of course not.” He reaches out and takes my hand, his grip just a little too tight. “I love you as you are, Astra. I just want to make sure we’re not missing any opportunities.”
His words ring hollow, and the way he’s looking at me is kind of creepy. Like he’s calculating something, weighing possibilities I can’t see.
“I don’t understand why you’re bringing this up again,” I say quietly. “I was honest with you about what I can and can’t offer. If it’s not enough—”
“It is enough,” he says quickly, but I can hear the lie underneath his words. “You’re enough. I just…I worry about you being happy. About whether you’ll regret giving up that possibility.”
The manipulation in his words is so subtle I almost miss it. He’s trying to make this about my happiness, about my potential regrets, when this is clearly about his own disappointment.
After he leaves, I sit alone in the small room with Luna, feeling more confused and unsettled than ever. The Andrew I thought I knew would never push like this, never try to convince me to pursue something unattainable and perilous just because he wants it.
I awaken to the sound of soft knocking at my door. My body feels heavy with exhaustion, and for a moment I can’t remember where I am. Then it all comes back—Turnville, Andrew, this cramped room that’s supposed to be my new beginning.
“Astra?” Andrew’s voice carries through the door, but there’s something different about it. An urgency. “I need to speak with you.”
I glance at my watch. It is well past midnight. Luna lifts her head from where she’s curled up on the bed, her ears twitching with unease.
“It’s late, Andrew,” I call back, pulling my blanket tighter around myself. “Can’t this wait until morning?”
“It’s important. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Meet someone? At this hour? My instincts prickle with warning, but I push the feeling aside. This is Andrew. Sweet, gentle Andrew.
“Give me a minute,” I say, sitting up and slipping into my clothes. Something feels wrong, but I can’t put my finger on what.
When I open the door, Andrew’s smile is too bright, too wide. There’s a gleam in his eyes I’ve never seen before—excitement mixed with something that makes my stomach clench.
“Perfect timing,” he says, stepping aside to reveal the man behind him.
The hair on the back of my neck instantly stands up.
