Page 3 of The Alpha's Bullied Pregnant Mate

A chime sounded in the cable car and a grinding sounded as the brakes connected on the track below. The car ground to a stop beside a platform and Isla looked up. Her stop.

She stowed her book inside her backpack and slung the back over one shoulder. She didn’t bother looking back at the couple, but she was sure they were watching her. She could imagine all the nasty things they would say as soon as the doors closed.

She was in too foul a mood to care, though. She stepped onto the slick, slippery platform and pulled her jacket tighter around her. Changing her mind, she turned back to the track and with a manic grin on her face, she looked unerringly at the couple and flipped them off with both hands.

Petty, she thought as the cable car rumbled down the track. Petty, but terribly satisfying. She began the hike up the mountain to the row of houses on the lee-side of the face of the mountain.

The slope was gentle and the snow was barely ankle thick. Could have been worse, she thought, as she padded up to the line of houses, using the lines attached to sunken poles for balance as she went.

She stumped out the snow from her boots as well as she could outside her door, and then unlocked the door. Even before the door swung open, she sensed both her parents, and her wolf barked excitedly.

“Oh, honey, you finally decided to return.” Her mother lounged on the couch, a steaming cup of cocoa in one hand, and her bare feet resting on the coffee table in front of her. She reduced the volume of the TV with the remote and turned to face Isla. “You didn’t forget we were coming again, did you?”

Isla smiled with embarrassment. Clearly, she’d forgotten all about their visit, plus she’d been so engrossed in the crime thriller she had spent the whole day reading. Her only plan was to go up to bed and spend the whole night reading her book.

“Hi mom,” Isla said. “You look… comfortable.”

Her mother rolled her eyes and turned up the volume on the television. She turned to the sound of heavy footsteps and saw her father coming out of the kitchen with a plate of toast, eggs, and sausages.

He handed the food to his wife—who smiled appreciatively at him—and set down his mug of coffee. He then turned to Isla and hugged her tightly. “There’s my baby girl.”

Isla wrapped her arms around him, smiling. “Hi, dad.”

He held her away and frowned. “You’ve not been eating…”

Her mother smirked. “Look at those curves, sweetie. I’d say she could go a whole year without food and still look as soft and lovely as a cake.”

“Really, mom? Cake?”

“Find me a better comparison,” Mrs. Moon said, stuffing a sausage in her mouth. She added between bites, “I dare you.”

Her dad laughed and let her go, joining his wife on the couch. Isla settled heavily into an arm chair and let out a deep sigh. Her dad glanced at her over the rim of his mug. “Remember that event I told you about? The cross culture event with the other packs? Well it’s a go.

“Also, the alpha has called this big meeting. Did you hear? I’m guessing you didn’t, what with isolating yourself and all.” Isla rolled her eyes as he continued speaking. “Anyways, he wants to address the pack about the recently concluded war with the were-bears. Or almost war… Whatever they are calling it. Would you be coming?”

“Congratulations on the event dad! I’m so happy for you. I know how hard you worked on this.”

Mr. Moon narrowed his eyes. “Sure, thanks. What about the pack meeting, Isla? You’re a member of this pack, you know right? I feel like I have to remind you every time we see.”

Isla sighed. “I will think about it, dad. Okay? I had a long day at work and I just want to get some shut eye. I love you guys.”

She got up and climbed up the stairs, ignoring the sympathetic looks her parents sent after her. She never told them what had happened to her in that cafeteria. She told her mother that she had spilled juice on herself.

She never told them, so they never knew just how much she hated their alpha, and how little she cared for anything concerning him. If she found him dangling from a cliff with one hand, she would stump his fingers until he let go.

Nursing that image in her head, she stepped into her bedroom and shut the door behind her, the thought of Fannar screaming as he fell to his death a satisfying fire in her soul.

Chapter 2 - Fannar

There was something in the air inside the Twin Moon pub tonight. The bar room was packed with wolves from different packs, both in isolated and mixed groups. It was one of those nights where a brawl was always just less than a hair’s breadth away.

Fannar watched the musician on the stage with heavy eyes. She was beautiful, shorter than Frost Peak women, but taller than the average woman. She had round curves in all the right places and he found himself wondering what it would feel like to rest his hands on those gentle slopes.

Patrons sitting close to the temporary stage cheered raucously at the woman on stage, professing their deepest love and desire for her. She smiled and batted eyelids, but maintained the tempo of her country song.

Fannar was certain nobody was paying attention enough to remember the lyrics of the song she was singing. Frank, the owner of the bar, prepared drinks with the speed and the dexterity of an octopus, making sure glasses were full and customers were satisfied.

The pretty musician skipped from her slow song into a much more frantic country beat, swinging her guitar around and stepping effortlessly into a popular country song.

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