Page 13 of The Alpha's Pregnant Mate

“Laurent—”

“You’ve brought nothing but chaos since the moment you arrived,” he snapped, finally gathering the strength to turn and look at her for the first time. Whatever she saw in his face must have frightened her, but Laurent sealed himself off from his own emotional response to seeing her shrink away from him, as though his words had struck her a physical blow. “You’re messy, you have no sense of propriety, no control over the whims and fancies of your emotions. Your immaturity, your lack of experience, your impulsivity…your pack may forgive your poor leadership, and that’s their prerogative, but I won’t allow you to endanger what I’ve built here any longer.”

“And this?” her voice rang with disbelief as she made a gesture that encompassed their bodies, the wreckage of the bed. “What happened between us? What does that have to do with—”

“Further evidence of your corrupting influence,” he snapped, realizing as he spoke that he’d pulled the phrase directly from his studies. “I’ll take responsibility for my own part—my own weakness—but that doesn’t change the fact that you need to go. You have until nightfall.”

“Laurent—”

“Go.” Was his voice always so harsh, so grating on the ears? “You’re wasting daylight.”

She didn’t, of course. She stayed in his room for quite some time, pacing back and forth, railing at him, entreating, then shouting, then finally begging with tears rolling down her cheeks. But Laurent’s mind was far away, drifting through the cold, remote reaches of space. And finally, he came back to himself to find his room empty and quiet. All that remained was the utter disarray of his bed…and one long, curly auburn hair on his pillow.

Chapter 9 - Rhietta

Gratitude for her pack was never far from Rhietta’s mind, but it reached new heights that day. She felt like she was sleepwalking when she made her way down to the camp from the house on the hill, her legs stiff and shaking, her eyes swollen from tears. How could it have only been midmorning? She felt like she’d been awake for a week straight, arguing against a closed door, a brick wall, a sheer rock face. What a waste of time, she thought, too numb to even feel bitter. What a waste of breath, and energy. What a waste.

They knew something was wrong, of course. How could they not, when she must have looked like she’d been dragged through the wilderness upside down in a hurricane? But when she ordered the camp packed up at top speed, not one of them asked for an explanation. Silea moved up beside her and squeezed her hand gently when she asked if she’d like her to go and fetch the families from Laurent’s house, and fresh tears spilled down her cheeks when she nodded. There was no way she could go back to that house. Not now—not ever.

Their belongings didn’t take long to pack, and Rhietta made the executive decision that they’d be taking the tents with them, too. It was the least the other Alpha could offer after what he’d put them through—she couldn’t even bring herself to think his name. By the time they were packed, it was just past noon, and a small audience of curious wolves from the other pack had gathered nearby. From the looks of confusion and worry on their faces, she ascertained that their Alpha hadn’t filled them in on the call he’d made that morning. Well, she wasn’t going to make it any easier on him. And so Rhietta led her pack away from their temporary home, parting with a sad smile and a wave, but no explanation as to what had necessitated the haste of their departure.

“So…where are we going, Alpha?”

Rovell moved up beside her once the group had cleared the outskirts of the village. The rest of the pack was behind them, walking single-file through the dense jungle, and though there was a low murmur of general conversation among them, she could feel their worry. Rovell had Anik bundled against him, secured by a blanket that had been woven cleverly around his torso, the baby fast asleep with her little face nestled trustingly against his chest. Rhietta gazed at the perfect peace of the sleeping baby, absorbing the strength and solace she needed, then spoke.

“Where we planned to go,” she said firmly. “The nearby hilltop. To hell with what Laurent said. If he has a problem with it, he can come and tell us himself.”

Rovell nodded, and she could see the curiosity burning in him. “Your conversation last night didn’t go well, then.”

“No,” she said, feeling a wave of feeling crash over her—though whether it was exhaustion or grief, she couldn’t tell. “No, it didn’t.”

There was one good thing about the worst day of her life, at least. The challenge of establishing a brand-new settlement in less than a single afternoon made it impossible for her to spare a single thought for Laurent until well after dark. Her wolves outdid themselves, as they always did when she needed them; she spent much of that afternoon with tears of pride mingling with the sweat on her face. They worked like one wolf in a few dozen bodies, hacking back enough vegetation from the intended location of their settlement to clear space for the tents before splitting into teams to handle building a fire, hunting down the evening meal, and getting enough tents set up to shelter them from the rain that had been drizzling all afternoon. All day, the whole pack seemed determined to keep the mood up, their jokes and laughter lifting even Rhietta’s dreadfully low spirits. And when they finally sat down together to share the first meal of their new settlement, Rhietta was able to share a few words in honor of the auspicious day—even if she had to keep breaking off to wipe tears from her eyes.

But eventually, the majority of her weary pack had turned in for some much-needed rest, and she was left with her closest friends around the fire. Silea and Cadia didn’t press her, didn’t even ask, but she spilled the whole story anyway, tears dripping from her chin as she spoke. Neither of them interrupted until she’d finished, though Silea started breaking twigs with more and more violence as her story progressed. When she finally fell silent, the whole sorry story told, the two of them pulled her into a wordless embrace.

“Keep this between us for now, please?” she said finally, when she felt strong enough to speak again. “I don’t—I know I’m usually an open book, but this…I’d prefer not to share this with the whole pack just yet.”

“Of course.” Cadia squeezed her hands tightly. “We’ll just tell them that he kicked us out.”

“Which is true,” Silea said darkly, “and makes him a monster even without taking everything else into account. I’ll go back there, Rhi. You just say the word and I’ll make him sorrier than he could ever have imagined—”

“No. I know how you feel, Sil, but—no,” Rhietta said, giving her friend a tired smile. She knew Silea was only trying to help—knew that threats of violence were how she expressed her love, her protection. But there was no relief or pleasure in the thought of making Laurent suffer. She knew in her bones that he was suffering more than enough already. It didn’t excuse what he’d done, but it also made the infliction of any further misery utterly redundant.

It was a few days later that the first patrol from Laurent’s pack found them. Rhietta had known this was an inevitability, had been preparing herself for the challenge almost since they’d first gotten their marching orders. She had an argument ready to go, had even hand-written a coldly worded letter to Laurent in the most formal register she was capable of, effectively telling him that they were staying where they were and if he wanted to turn it into a war, then let the consequences fall on him.

She mustn’t have been thinking clearly. It hadn’t occurred to her, somehow, that the patrol that found them would be made up of wolves they knew, wolves with absolutely no interest in hitting them when they were down. It was Seff who she found waiting for her by the fire, bedraggled and wet from the rain and holding a mug of tea that one of her wolves must have pushed into his trembling hands.

There was no need for the letter, in the end. Speaking with a frankness that surprised her, Seff informed her that he had no intention of letting Laurent know what he’d found today. More to the point, he could assure her that he spoke for all of the pack’s patrols. None of them would dare question Laurent’s leadership to his face, of course, but privately, they’d been uncomfortable with the way he’d kicked Rhietta’s pack out of the town center so soon after the packs had fought side by side against the demon threat.

“Thank you, Seff,” was all she could say, spreading her hands helplessly. “And I hope you’ll pass my gratitude on to the rest of the patrols. We—we’ll find a way of repaying your kindness someday, I hope.”

“Me too,” the young man said softly. And there was a lingering sadness in his smile as he rose to go, murmuring that he’d arouse suspicion if he was too late back from the patrol. Rhietta watched him go, feeling the ache in her chest grow even stronger. It had been there since Laurent had thrown her out, and she’d hoped it would grow better with time…but the more she thought about the senselessness of this separation between the packs, the worse she felt about his refusal to see the truth.

But what could they do, in the end, except settle into the new rhythm of their lives here? As much as time seemed to drag, weighed down as it was by her sadness, the days nevertheless turned into weeks, and Rhietta watched her pack making progress on the building of their new home. Her scouts had been right about how perfect this place was, that was for certain. Its placement atop one of the island’s taller hills gave them a pleasant view of the surrounding territory, and even a glimpse of the ocean beyond—not to mention advanced notice of any curious demons that might be approaching. The river was a welcome presence nearby and meant that fresh water was plentiful and easily fetched, as well as offering them plenty of fish to supplement the game they caught on their regular hunts. It wasn’t long before they’d cleared enough vegetation to start planning how they’d lay out the settlement’s first few buildings, when the time came.

It brought up old fears, of course. The loss of the first home they’d built was still fresh in everyone’s minds, and she could tell she wasn’t alone in her reluctance to start building. It seemed absurd to worry about wildfires given how much rain there was on this part of the island…but none of them had worried about fire before, had they? And where had that gotten them? In the end, they pressed on with their plans, resolving that they’d simply have to stay alert to the first hint of smoke on the breeze. They couldn’t let fear make them spend the rest of their lives in temporary shelter.

The threat of demons was ever-present, of course, but they were used to that, quickly setting up patrols to keep the area protected. After some deliberation, Rhietta suggested that a few of her closest advisors add an unofficial extension to a few of their patrols, straying close enough to the other pack’s village to keep an eye on things there. It was reckless of her, she knew—they were already relying heavily on the discretion of the other pack’s patrols to keep their presence here a secret from Laurent. But some instinct told her that she needed to keep tabs on what was going on over there. Was it her feelings for Laurent, she wondered? Her concern for the wolves he led, wolves who were, at the end of the day, just as close to her as her own pack? That was definitely part of it…but there was something else, too. Something deeper than that, a low, unnamable anxiety that often came to her in unguarded moments, nibbling at the corners of her fragile peace, filling her with an unease that she simply couldn’t articulate.

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