Page 19 of The Alpha's Pregnant Mate

She didn’t want to believe what she’d heard. Her mind kept racing through the conversation, trying to find a way out. How could the man she firmly believed was her soulmate be so deeply opposed to the idea of parenthood, something that she’d been looking forward to for as long as she could remember? Soulmates were supposed to be perfect for one another—twin souls who together would build a life more beautiful than anything either could have made on their own. But how was that possible, if one of them saw their future as full of the laughter of children, and the other would recoil at the prospect of even holding a baby?

Could Reade and Camus be wrong about Laurent, about what he truly wanted? He was an intensely private man—was it possible he’d just kept his dreams of fatherhood a closely guarded secret? But Reade and Camus had known him all his life. They’d spent far more time with him than Rhietta had, that was for sure. And besides, while it wasn’t entirely unheard of for a wolf to decide against having children, it was pretty rare. Not the kind of assumption you’d make about someone without having evidence.

Rhietta frowned, working back through her memory, trying to remember if she’d ever seen Laurent so much as smile at a baby. He’d been willing enough to let Anik and her family stay in his house, hadn’t he? But then, of course, he’d all but barricaded himself in on the second floor, avoiding all contact. And try as she might, she couldn’t remember ever seeing him hold a baby, play with a toddler, even watch a gaggle of children play with a smile on his face.

She rested a hand on the slight swell of her stomach, the bump that only she knew was there. In all the uncertainty and chaos of this situation, the one thing that had never occurred to her was that Laurent might not want this child. Sure, she’d imagined he might be shocked by the suddenness of the responsibility, by the magnitude of the change it would make to his life… but she hadn’t for a moment thought that it might be fatherhood itself that he rejected. It made her heart ache. She’d loved the little life inside of her since the moment she’d even suspected it was there; maybe she’d let that blind her to the possibility that Laurent might not feel the same.

And if she was wrong about that, then she was going to have to seriously consider whether she was wrong about Laurent being her soulmate at all.

Chapter 14 - Laurent

Something was wrong with Rhietta. It had been about a month since the fires had claimed their home when he began to notice. At first, he was half convinced he was imagining it, the changes were so subtle. She was still her usual self, chatty and talkative, buzzing around the camp with that boundless, irrepressible positive energy that was just as likely to aggravate him as it was to draw a secret smile from him (only where she couldn’t see him, of course). But when it was just the two of them—that was when he began to see the cracks. Nothing major at first. Just longer silences than he was used to, slightly less wordy and over-complicated explanations of the day’s events.

Maybe she’d just taken his advice on brevity, he decided later, still puzzling over what exactly it had been that had been troubling him. Or perhaps she was just a little tired that day. It would have been more than understandable, given all the changes that were taking place in the settlement. With the first few buildings almost complete, the pack was deep in the planning stages for the next phase of construction, which had the ambitious goal of getting housing built for every last member of the pack, freeing up valuable tent space for Laurent’s pack. As grateful as they were to have shelter, he knew they were looking forward to a little more room to move.

There would be even more space, of course, once they’d made the move to their new settlement. That process was still very much underway—they had half a dozen places shortlisted, and Laurent was giving considerable thought to the pros and cons of each. Difficult to decide, though, especially when he was growing increasingly distracted by the mysterious shift in Rhietta’s attitude toward him. He wasn’t imagining it. There was a coldness to her conduct that even bordered occasionally on rudeness. She took to cutting their regular meetings short, too, claiming she couldn’t spare the time. And when she suggested they reduce the meetings to every third day, he couldn’t think of a reason to disagree. It wasn’t as though the meetings were of any particular structural necessity. The truth was, he’d come to enjoy them. He’d come to look forward to sunset, knowing that it meant the two of them would soon be sitting on that log on the outskirts of camp, chatting and bickering about the day’s events…

But something had happened, and now that sense of closeness between them was gone.

Could he have done something to upset her? He dwelled for some time on the events of the last week or so, trying to dig out any hint of what could have upset her, but Rhietta wasn’t the kind of person who’d hold a grudge in secret. Whenever he’d offended her, she’d demanded an apology right away, the immediacy of her fury matched only by how quickly it faded away once amends had been made. She didn’t seem to be on poor terms with anyone else, so he quickly ruled out the possibility that it was a feud with a different wolf that was altering her mood.

And in the absence of any recent cause, he found his mind returning, unwillingly but seemingly unavoidably, to the night they’d spent together. The memory was still fresh in his mind, even if it was clouded by a complex tangle of guilt and shame that was either attached to the event itself, or to some element of his handling of it. Rhietta had every right to be upset with him about what had happened, and if he could believe that that alone was the cause of her current coldness towards him, he’d have been happy enough to accept it. But Laurent had always been a rational man, even when it came to analyzing the emotions of others, and that simply didn’t make sense. This attitude was new. It hadn’t emerged in the immediate aftermath of their night together, nor had it been present for the past month or so as they’d been working out their strange new political situation—unless you counted their occasional squabbles, which were always quickly resolved.

No; that simply couldn’t be it. It was a maddening puzzle. It wasn’t that he minded her being so cold to him—it was what he deserved, truth be told. He just wanted to know why. In his desperation, he even tried talking to her friends, seeking out the pack members he knew were her closest confidantes. If anyone knew what was going on with Rhietta, it was them. Unfortunately, as her closest friends, they were also the pack members who continued to bear him the most resentment. If what he’d been experiencing from Rhietta was a cold wind, what he felt when he tried one afternoon to speak to Silea and Cadia was a blizzard. After stumbling through some deeply uncomfortable small talk, he’d raised the subject of Rhietta, only to find himself the object of twin glares so intense that he was tempted to look down to check whether they were burning a hole right through him.

“What are you asking us, exactly?” Silea, her arms folded.

“Just—whether you can provide any insight into—I’m concerned I might have offended the Alpha, somehow. Said something, or done something, that has caused her to be—angry with me.”

Even as the words left his lips, he knew it was a mistake. Silea uttered a bark of laughter so harsh and savage that it made him recoil. Cadia said her name sharply, in a warning undertone that was clearly not intended for Laurent. Then, coldly, she informed him that he ought to speak to Rhietta about it, not them.

“I have,” he said, feeling about eight years old again as he spread his hands. “I tried.”

“Then I don’t know what you want from us,” Cadia said loftily. “Will that be all, Alpha?”

He nodded and slunk away, not liking the way he could hear them talking in low, animated voices the minute he’d left their sight. He’d even been tempted to sneak back, to eavesdrop on their conversation in case it proved more enlightening…but the thought of what they might do if they caught him quickly dissuaded him from that ignominious idea.

Distraction seemed like the only remedy. He focused on the next major step for his pack, aware that he was beginning to dedicate a little too much of his focus to the construction work here. Their shortlist of potential locations now numbered an even dozen, including the addition of the site of their original settlement—scouts had observed that a few of the original foundations remained more or less intact, and rebuilding could be an option. Part of him was reluctant to make any major decisions. They still had worryingly little insight into the nature of the wildfires that had now destroyed two major settlements, and he kept finding himself having uneasy daydreams about putting the finishing touches on a new settlement only to turn and see that awful flame engulfing the buildings yet again.

Still, they could hardly stay here forever. As well as the packs seemed to be getting on with each other, he knew that this new strangeness between him and Rhietta couldn’t bode well. The sooner he and his wolves got out of here, the better. It was time they return to their separate lives, their separate destinies. What had Rhietta said at their first meeting? It wasn’t like they were leading the same pack, here. No, that would have looked…it would have been different, he told himself sharply, that was all.

They were anticipating a demon attack. There hadn’t been any noteworthy incursions from the demons that dwelled in the jungle around the settlement since Laurent’s pack had moved here, according to the reports of Rhietta’s scouts. That made sense, given their patterns—they’d likely dropped back, a little intimidated by the sudden doubling of the wolves’ numbers, but they’d be working up the courage and the numbers to launch another attack soon. It was a little like the island’s near-constant tropical storms—pressure would build up for a short time, then eventually the pressure would break and the deluge would come before the cycle resumed again. So when the sound of the alarm roused Laurent from his sleep one night, it was with some relief that he grabbed his sword and readied himself for battle. In his experience, fighting demons was preferable to sitting around wondering when the attack would finally come.

Besides, the situation with Rhietta had been weighing on his mind more than he was willing to admit. And there was nothing like a battle to clear all but the most immediate thoughts from your mind.

As they’d anticipated, it was a sizable assault. Dozens of demons came pouring out of the tree line of several sides of the clearing at once, clearly hoping to find a weak point in their defenses by attacking in the round. But both Alphas had been alert to this possibility, and the packs had fallen into an interlocking defensive pattern that stopped the demons in their tracks, preventing them from getting through to the tents beyond. Laurent spared a moment to observe how well the packs were working together, how seamlessly they’d joined forces, before turning to hurl himself into the fray. After what had happened last time he’d come up against a demon army like this one, he had a little revenge to take. It felt good, driving his sword through his old foes, hearing their shrieks and hisses of rage as their attempts to break the line of wolves failed. But he kept glancing at the tree line, worried that he might see a tongue of flame licking at the vegetation, and alongside him, he could see that his wolves were thinking the same thing.

Slowly but surely, the tide of battle was turning. Still, it was a long and grueling effort, and instinct told Laurent that there would be a few casualties before the fight was done. The air was choked with the stench of demon blood, the remains of the creatures already decomposing, but he could smell the cleaner, metallic scent of wolf blood, too, and he’d heard a few isolated howls of pain as the demons slipped in under an unwary wolf’s guard. All the more reason for him to stay alert, he reminded himself grimly, parrying a demon’s blow before driving his sword straight through its head. From what he’d heard of the days that followed the assault on their settlement, they’d been in sore need of trained healers, and he’d been dead to the world, of no use to anyone. This time, he was determined to make it through unscathed, if only so that he could be of use to the wounded once the battle was done.

But in the end, his skills were called upon well before the fight had ended. Their numbers had definitely begun to thin, but there were still plenty of demons emerging from the trees when he heard someone call his name, their tone urgent. Rovell hastened up beside him, gasping that they needed a healer, that Rhietta was hurt.

He was on the move before he’d even fully processed what Rovell was saying, leaving the wolves he’d been fighting beside to close the gap in the line. The younger man led him through camp toward the southern front, where his heart lurched to see a familiar figure crumpled on the ground. She’d been dragged clear of the battle, where he could see Silea laying into the remaining demons with terrifying fury, her twin blades flashing and dancing as she strove to avenge the injury to her Alpha. But he spared only a momentary glance for the battle before his gaze was drawn straight back to the fallen figure of Rhietta.

“Where’s Dasha?” Laurent demanded, hastening to close the distance that lay between him and her prone form.

“Busy,” Rovell managed as he caught up with him. “Camus got his whole arm torn open, needed stitches to stop the bleeding—”

Laurent was barely listening to the explanation. Nothing mattered right now but Rhietta, her closed eyes, the heart-stopping sight of her hair, matted to the side of her head with blood…his fingers came away sticky and burning when he touched it, though, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he realized it belonged to the demonic foe, not to her. The rise and fall of her chest told him she was breathing, at least, but that was about all the good news there was. He reached automatically into his pocket with one hand, the other resting protectively on Rhietta’s shoulder, and withdrew his ceremonial dagger. Dasha had instructed him not to resort to it in battle unless he absolutely had to—he was still recovering from the vast expenditure of energy at the fall of their settlement—but this wasn’t battle, was it? The blade glowed faintly in his hand as he passed it over Rhietta’s unconscious form, letting it guide him to the areas of most concern.

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