Page 30 of Knocked Up By My Fated Alpha
“What?”
Raven let out a shuddering breath, burying her anger beneath a façade of calm as she met my gaze.
“This baby is mine, not yours, and I’m keeping it,” she stated evenly. “But you don’t need to worry, I won’t tell anyone you are the father. Don’t hand me over to the Ivory Moon Pack, and I’ll leave quietly.”
I went silent, Raven’s words and actions proving what I already knew deep, deep down. Raven hadn’t planned any of this any more than I had. I’d just wanted, no, needed to put a wall between myself and the unreasonable attraction I felt to her.
Taking my silence as acquiescence, Raven moved to leave the room, but my hand went around her wrist, pulling her to a stop.
“Did I say you could leave?”
Raven went stiff at my words, and once more, I had to fight the urge to touch her, really touch her, to hold her and press my lips to her forehead, promising her anything to get her to stay. I let go of her hand immediately as though scalded by her touch and not my thoughts. An edge of desperation tinged Raven’s gaze as it met mine.
“Look, I know you hate my guts. Goddess knows the feeling is mutual. But that night was a simple, unmemorable mistake for me as much as it was for you, and we both share equal responsibilities for it. You can’t just punish me for it.”
A simple, unmemorable mistake. A mistake. I suppressed the irrational gut reaction I had to those words.
“Whoever said I was going to punish you, Raven?”
She paused, her confusion apparent.
“Then, what do you want?”
“You.” No, that came out wrong. I didn’t want her. No matter that my wolf and body thought otherwise. “You will be my fiancée, just like I said earlier.”
Raven’s anger escaped her calm facade.
“Whatever new game this is, I’m not interested in playing it,” she snapped, shoving past me to reach for the door.
I didn’t try to stop her this time. Not physically, at least.
“How much time do you think you have left before your cousin kills you?” I asked, keeping my tone very casual, even though just the thought of it enraged me.
If Ivy dared touch a wisp of hair on Raven’s head, I’d fucking kill her. But Raven didn’t know that, so she froze, her hand hanging mid-air just above the doorknob, her scent heavy with fear. I shrugged, moving across the room to the bedside and pouring myself a glass of wine.
“I’d give it a few hours.”
Raven spun on her heels to face me, daggers in her gaze.
“What does it matter to you?”
I met her gaze impassively.
“You are carrying my child, Raven. Everything about you matters to me.”
The statement wasn’t completely true. Even before I knew she was carrying my child, everything about her had mattered to me in a way that made absolutely no sense. But now, I had a valid reason to excuse my obsession with Raven.
Raven’s lips thinned, and if looks could kill, I’d have been six, no, eight feet deep. I shifted on my feet, strangely glad for the distance between us.
“You mean the child you accused me of plotting to trap you with mere seconds ago?” She deadpanned sarcastically, and I found I couldn’t meet her gaze.
I’d viewed Raven with lenses colored by my past, and I’d lashed out at her unjustly.
“I was wrong to accuse you baselessly, and I apologize for that,” I inhaled deeply. “I have a proposal for you that will be beneficial to both of us.”
Raven scoffed with derision.
“I highly doubt that.”
