Page 8 of The Alpha's Bullied Pregnant Mate

He was huge, his muscular body underneath obvious despite the thick clothing. He had aged well, and it caught Isla by surprise, like a deer in the headlights. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, and she wasn’t trying to, either.

She had no idea when he started speaking, his words barely registering in her mind. She couldn’t explain what was going on. It was almost as if some phantom apparition had stretched out from Fannar, and was now pulling her back steadily towards him. It took all her focus to remain in her seat.

A pain she’d been ignoring in the back of her neck blossomed to the fore of her mind. It felt as if a red-hot iron rod was pressed against the flesh there, searing through her skin. She shifted in her seat, trying hard not to create a scene.

She hissed in pain and her dad glanced at her questioningly. She shook her head and massaged the back of her neck slowly. Her hand came away soaked with sweat. Whatever was affecting her, affected her wolf as well. She could feel the beast, and it was immensely unsettled. What the hell?

She could make no sense of it. She looked up just in time to see Fannar pause mid-sentence and stagger slightly. There was a confused look on his face as his eyes searched the faces in the crowd. He grit his teeth and shook his head.

Isla wondered if he was feeling the same strange pain that she was feeling. But she dismissed the thought even as it crossed her mind. They were not connected in any way. His discomfort had to be a coincidence and nothing more. Still, she was curious about it.

The pain in her neck intensified. Isla let out a soft gasp of pain at the sudden jolt of pain. Both parents turned to look at her, concerned. She ignored them and bent forward. She felt like she was going to pass out. She squeezed her eyes tight, and the world around her disappeared.

***

The game was a disaster, as usual. And just like they did after every loss, Isla’s team blamed her for not being big or strong enough. She never argued or protested, there was no use pointing out that the team had sucked long before she joined.

She hung around the bleachers after the game, as she usually did. The other girls poked fun at her the first time she took a shower with them. She opted for the more quiet showers after they were done now.

Isla watched the janitor as he tidied up the basketball court. He was the only person in the entire school who seemed to recognize her as a normal human being. She always wondered why he was nice to her when everyone else wasn’t.

The locker room was empty when Isla entered. That didn’t stop her from making sure the room was empty before she took off her clothes and got into the shower.

The cry pierced through the walls of the locker room and left Isla feeling paralyzed. She grabbed her towel and rushed out, confused. The sound must have come from far away, but she could still hear it reverberating in her mind.

She was tying her laces when another cry rang out through the locker room. She grabbed her sports bag and without hesitating, dashed out of the locker room towards the sound.

Fear gripped her with a cold hand but more, the pain in those cries spurred her into action. The school was empty, or so it seemed. There was no sound in the hallways except for her ragged breathing and her tiny feet pounding on the tiled floor in search of the source of those cries.

She rushed down a bend and almost collided with someone hunched over. It was a boy, but not just any boy, Fannar. Isla stopped dead in her tracks, and started walking backwards slowly in the direction she had just come from.

Then Fannar whipped his head to the side and she saw his eyes. There was raw pain etched into those gray eyes of his. While she watched, another cry tore out from him and he curled into himself, scrabbling wildly on the floor.

Isla watched him in confusion, wanting to help but not understanding what was going on. It took her brain several long moments to figure out exactly what was going on. Fannar was experiencing his first transformation, and it was killing him.

His limbs grew longer, and hair poked out through his clothes. His entire face had turned into that of a wolf, and the whole time he cried out, deep guttural, terrifying cries.

“Fannar, how can I help you?” she asked, taking a step forward and reaching out with her right hand. In retrospect, a rather foolish thing for a fifteen year old girl to do.

Fannar, fully feral now, knocked her into a wall with the back of his hand and pounced on her. The world blurred as Isla hit the wall. Still dazed and confused, she felt Fannar land on her, and sink his teeth into the back of her neck.

The pain was white hot and paralyzing, and she was certain he was going to kill her. She heard a voice, but it sounded so distant. Fannar must have heard it too, because he pulled his teeth out and rushed away from her.

Isla felt hot blood pouring out from the back of her neck, pooling under her cheek that rested on the cold floor. She heard someone curse loudly and then the sound of footsteps running towards her.

The figure crouched in front of her and though her vision was dim and foggy, she recognized the janitor as he lifted her from the ground. The last thing she remembered before her vision went black was the horrified look on his face as he raced down the hallway with her limp body cradled in his arms.

***

Her father and mother were crouched over her when she opened her eyes again. The pain in her neck was still there but it wasn’t as intense as it had been before she blanked out.

She had no idea how long she had blanked out for but from the look on her parents’ faces she could tell they were worried. She sat up with an effort and noticed a few other people were watching her curiously?

“Are you alright? What happened?” her mother asked in a whisper, her voice shaky. “You scared us.”

Isla managed to smile. “It was nothing, mom. Just a severe headache. It has passed now. I’m sorry I got you so worked up over nothing.” She squeezed her mother’s hand and from the look in the older woman’s eyes it was clear she didn’t believe Isla.

“Should we leave?” her father asked.

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