Page 46 of The Alpha's Sold Pregnant Mate

“Yeah…” he drawled lazily without taking his eyes off the plant, “Crazy…”

“I'm telling you, Asher, the plant is magic.”

“See, that's the thing.” He held her hands. “Esme, this is a regular plant. There's nothing special or magical about it.”

“What?”

“Yes,”he replied. “But I can't say the same thing about you.”

She looked at him, perplexed. “What's that supposed to mean?”

He drew her close and answered.

“The plant isn't magical… But I think you are.”

She withdrew from his hold, and he could tell that the realization was sinking in.

“Don't worry.” He smiled encouragingly at her. “I know someone that can help.”

He took out his phone and dialed a number as Esme sat on the bed, probably reflecting on what he had said.

It rang, and soon, someone answered.

“Hello,” he said to the person on the other line. “We have a situation.”

Chapter 12 - Esme

Is this really happening?

She was unable to fathom this shocking realization, even though she had been having these strange things happening around her ever since she was little.

Now, it began to make sense to her why all those mysterious and unexplainable things used to happen to her. She took some time to reflect on the events that she had ignored and shoved under the rug.

Asher was calling for her help; probably, the person he was reaching out to was also a witch. Maybe the individual would provide answers to the questions that had plagued her mind for some time.

Looks like everyone was right after all.

Things were finally starting to fall into place.Pieces of the puzzle were appearing, ready to be put in theright place.

The strange dreams, the singing to plants, the fact that nature always found a way to help her when she was in trouble, the glowing eyes…These were all subtle signs that she was choosing to ignore.

Thetownspeople thought that she was a witch or that she was cursed, and she despised them for thinking that. She had damned them all, saying that they didn't know what they were talking about, that she wasn't a witch.

Jokes on me, I guess.

She scoffed. Being a witch simply tied a lot of things together; it explained everything.

Her squirrel,which had been running up and down the vines of the plant, now scurried up into her arms.

“Can you believe it, Jerry? He's suggesting that I'm a witch,” she whispered with mixed feelings. “Maybe this was why I was able to sense his presence before he arrived at the garden.” She stroked its head. “Does it make sense?” She cocked her head one side contemplating her question. “Yes. It does. It has to.”

The day that man asked her to commit suicide after pushing to the ground under that tree flashed in her mind. She thought deeply and realized that she had been so mad at him that her eyes stung her a bit. She remembered the feeling of something she couldn't explain surging through her veins.

It was after that feeling that the tree, which had not grown any fruits before, began to attack her accusers with its very large fruits. The man who had pushed her was the first to go down—he actually passed out.

So, that was me? I did that?

The time those men cornered her in the woods and almost forced themselves on her, she remembered having the same feeling swelling up within her. This was different, though; it was a mix of fear and anger.

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