Page 17 of The Alpha's Pregnant Mate

“We weren’t under orders or anything,” his lieutenant said quickly. “Rhietta’s never so much as given any of us suggestions, Alpha, honestly. But—well, you’ve got all the help you need at the moment, and you know what they say about idle hands.”

Laurent nodded. It was true that there wasn’t exactly an abundance of tasks with which to busy his pack at the moment. He had his scouts searching the island, shortlisting potential locations for the building of their own new home, and he’d tasked a couple of the more scholarly-minded among them with going through the books he’d rescued from the fire to see if there was anything to be learned about these unnatural wildfires. But aside from that, there simply wasn’t much to do beyond their daily chores. Maybe once he’d have forbidden them from assisting the other pack regardless, but right now, that kind of arbitrary delineation between the packs simply felt…pointless.

Reade seemed surprised by how readily he agreed that the pack could do whatever they liked with their time, provided that the necessary chores of daily life were complete, but he nodded his agreement readily enough. He snapped a salute when Laurent dismissed him, but there was an unusual little smile on his face as he did. Laurent watched him go, a strange feeling in his chest. What was wrong with him? Was there something in the joke Rhietta had made when he’d first woken up in the medical tent? Had his near-death experience made him soft, compromised the intensity of his focus somehow?

Maybe. But whatever it was that was compromising his rigor, it seemed that it was having a similar effect on his ability to worry about it. And in the days that followed, whenever he saw his wolves working with Rhietta’s on the construction projects that were rapidly springing up around the little settlement, he found himself pleased by how happy they seemed. It was good for them to work with their hands, to have something to take their minds off what they’d lost. Maybe building something would bolster their spirits, remind them that as much as this harsh, dangerous world might take from them, they were more than capable of building something new to replace it. Over and over again, if necessary.

His major concern had been the relationship between him and Rhietta. He was intensely, acutely aware of how they’d left things, and he’d been dreading the inevitable discussion of what had happened between them the night before her pack had left. He’d been surprised she hadn’t brought it up at their first meeting, in fact. In the end, it was several days before the subject arose, and it was Laurent who brought it up. They’d taken to meeting at sunset every evening, a kind of semi-formal check-in during which they compared notes on the progress each pack was making toward their respective goals.

“I wanted to discuss—” He was surprised when he heard himself start the sentence, realizing belatedly that he hadn’t actually planned its ending. That was happening more and more lately, especially when he was talking to Rhietta. She was a bad influence, he told himself irritably, trying to muster some indignation. Just because she expressed herself willy-nilly, according to whatever whim had caught her fancy, didn’t mean he should drop his own standards of clear, precise communication. “Our…interpersonal issues.”

She tilted her head at that, curls falling fetchingly across her face as she seemed to piece together what he was referring to. A cryptic little smile quirked her lips, noticeably different in quality to her usual broad, beaming grin. “Interpersonal issues, hm? How long have you been working on that little euphemism?” She leaned forward, glancing around conspiratorially before she spoke, and though Laurent knew there was nobody in earshot, he still flinched at the volume of her voice. “Do you mean the fact that we slept together?”

“Yes,” he hissed, trying to hide his discomfort. “I appreciate your—tact, and discretion, on the subject—”

“Discretion?” Her eyes were twinkling merrily. “What makes you think I haven’t told every single member of my pack?”

Horror froze him for one second—then he narrowed his eyes as he realized she was holding back laughter. “I’m glad you find the subject so amusing,” he said darkly, his sour mood not improving when she only nodded, still laughing. “I only wanted to ensure that there were no…difficult feelings…that might interfere with our harmonious cohabitation.”

“Laurent, I’ve never had any difficulty with my feelings,” she said softly, her eyes still dancing with amusement. “You, on the other hand…”

“Forget I mentioned it,” he said, rising abruptly to his feet. “Is that all?”

She didn’t try to stop him as he stalked stiffly away from their meeting, but the knowing look in her eyes as he left stayed with him for longer than he’d have cared to admit. It certainly wasn’t a subject he was going to be bringing up again, but he had to admit, as the days passed, she seemed to have been telling the truth. He observed her whenever he could, studied her interactions with her pack, listened to her chatting and laughing with them around the campfire late into the night, searching for some sign of the deep emotional wounds he’d imagined he’d inflicted on her when he’d rejected her so cruelly. He couldn’t forget the way she’d wept, the tears of sadness and frustration that had rolled down her cheeks as she begged him to admit what he felt for her—he’d been carrying that crushing guilt around with him ever since. Was it really possible that after all that, she was simply…fine? That she’d shrugged it off and moved on? It didn’t make any sense. She’d claimed that they were soulmates—a ridiculous claim, of course, but one that she’d clearly believed.

So why did he seem to be the only one who was still bothered by what had happened between them? Why was he the only one who was still losing sleep about it?

Enough, he decided firmly, two weeks after he’d woken in the camp’s hospital tent. More than enough dwelling on the nonsense of feelings. Whatever it was that had happened between them two months ago, it was clear that Rhietta had put it squarely behind her, and it was high time he did the same thing. He set out that morning with fresh purpose, determined at last to find a way to make his sharp mind and decades of experience useful. This settlement might not have been where his wolves were going to make their own permanent home, but there was no harm in lending a little of his expertise to the builders.

And he quickly found more than a few opportunities for improvement. He’d been avoiding the construction sites, not wanting to make his wolves uncomfortable under the scrutiny of their Alpha, but when he made his way up to the handful of half-built cottages, it wasn’t long before he’d observed half a dozen inefficiencies that could be easily resolved. One of his pack members had just arrived with an armful of building materials, and Laurent flagged her down. Her expression went from concern to surprise when she realized the instructions he was giving her had to do with the construction site, but he was glad to note that despite his convalescence, his wolves still knew to follow orders when they were given.

It was a very pleasant way to spend a day, troubleshooting construction problems, and Laurent was feeling like himself again when he headed back to his tent to rinse off the dust and refresh himself before his usual meeting with Rhietta. Strictly speaking, it was the hospital tent rather than his own quarters, but with absolutely no room to spare in the rest of the camp, it had made sense for him to stay where he was.

He’d never admit it, but he’d started looking forward to his meetings with Rhietta. But that enthusiasm was dampened by the frown on her face when she came to join him at their usual spot—a fallen tree at the edge of the jungle, far enough from the camp to avoid being overheard by their pack. Packs, he corrected himself, unnerved by the mental slip. Their packs.

“What’s this I hear about you interfering with construction today?”

“Interfering?” He tried to dampen the outrage in his voice. “Who, pray tell, characterized my assistance like that?”

“I have my sources,” Rhietta said, lifting an eyebrow as she looked coolly at him. “It’s true though, right? You’ve been at the construction sites all day, making a nuisance of yourself?”

“I’ve hardly—” He bit back on the rejoinder, reminding himself for the hundredth time not to get drawn into her over-emotional style of communication. “I observed some inefficiencies, which I pointed out, assuming that your goal was to complete construction some time within the next decade. And I noticed some errors that could lead to structural weakness in the finished dwellings, so—”

“So you gave members of my pack orders?” He looked up at her sharply, surprised by the cool tone in her voice, and even more surprised to see a quiet anger reflected in her expression. “After everything you put me through for instructing members of your pack, you saw fit to order my workers around, simply because you felt you knew better?”

He opened his mouth to rebut her argument, indignation loosening his tongue—then closed it sharply as his reason caught up with him. Still, he hesitated for a long moment before offering his response, his mind seething with an unfamiliar and deeply uncomfortable sensation—the knowledge that the point she was making was entirely valid.

“You’re right,” he said with some effort, the words feeling like they had to be dredged up from a very deep place inside of him. “I forgot myself. My apologies, Alpha. It won’t happen again.” Rhietta looked stunned. She sat back on the log, clearly trying to cover the strength of her reaction, but he’d seen the way her jaw dropped. “What?” he said, a little stung by her evident surprise.

“Nothing. Nothing, I just…” She glanced up at him, that cryptic smile curving her lips again. “I keep gearing myself up for arguments, and you keep surprising me by actually being reasonable. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head in that battle?”

He drew himself up, ignoring that last little barb with all the dignity he could muster. “Have you considered that perhaps my attitude hasn’t changed, and that you’re the one who’s being reasonable for once?”

Rhietta snorted. “There he is. There’s the man I know.” But there was little rancor in her tone, and she flashed him a quick smile. “For the record, all my reports said your insights into the construction work were very valuable. I’m more than happy for you to keep helping, if you can phrase your feedback as suggestions rather than instructions.”

“I can,” he said stiffly, resisting the urge to debate the semantics. “An entirely reasonable suggestion, Alpha. I appreciate your commitment to our…boundaries.”

“Absolutely,” she said gravely, though the twinkle in her eye would stay with him long after their meeting concluded. “After all, we wouldn’t want anyone thinking we were co-leading the same pack, would we?”

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