Page 20 of Impregnated By the Alpha

“If you stay in this town, Moira is definitely going to leave,” Vera went on, picking up her book again. “You might just be the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Jonah.”

If only she knew that Moira couldn’t leave the Silversands without the hook of fate dragging her back. She wouldn’t look so pleased if she knew that not only was Jonah staying, but Moira was too. And there was nothing the town, or the pack, could do about it.

“I thought she wanted that bakery,” Jonah said weakly.

Vera rolled her eyes. “She does, but that old lady who owns it will be selling it any day now, and Moira can’t afford to buy it. She needs to give up on that dream.”

Even though he’d only been in there once, Moira’s love of the place had been obvious. It was clean, every surface lovingly polished, and the baked goods were prepared with such care and precision. There was nowhere else she’d rather be. It bothered him to think of the place being sold out from under her.

Seemingly done with him, Vera turned her attention to her book. He slinked away to the farthest chair, feeling the weight of every eye in the room on him as he went. All he’d wanted was a cup of coffee and the sound of other people around him, something to make him feel a little less lonely in this town he’d run from. Instead, he’d gotten an earful and fed the town gossip machine for a month.

Jonah drank his coffee as quickly as possible and finished the biscotti, wishing he’d ordered ten more. And that he hadn’t gotten kicked out of Moira’s bakery before he’d been able to order one of everything she had. If Moira wanted nothing to do with him now, he’d have to work until she could see that there was good in him. That he could be kind. That he was terribly, completely sorry for everything he had done to her.

As soon as his coffee cup was empty, he brought the cup back to the coffee bar, staying as far away from Vera as he could. She winked at him over the top of her book. Jonah shuddered.

“I’d run away now, if I were you,” the barista whispered to him, taking his cup. “It’s never good when Vera has you in her sights. And I would not want to get mixed up in that sister stuff. Those two have issues to work out.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Jonah whispered back. “I’m afraid it might be too late for that, though.”

He left the cafe and turned right to wrap around the back of the building, find an iron-railed staircase leading up to the second floor. His key slid into the lock and he let himself, bracing himself for whatever horrors the apartment held.

It was surprisingly modern. The kitchen was small but well laid out, with plenty of counter space and a nearly-new oven. Thankfully, it was already furnished, and the furniture was sturdy, good-quality wood. Probably antiques from the landlady’s house.

Dropping his bag on the bedroom floor, Jonah took a quick tour of the place. The town had surprised him a few times, first with the bakery, then the bookstore and cafe, and now this. Parts of the town were still loved, still cared for. Maybe there was hope for it yet.

His stomach was still grumbling, though he wasn’t sure how he’d maintained an appetite after Vera had gotten a hold of him. He ordered a pizza from the next town over, paying an exorbitant fee for the delivery, and started unpacking his things. It didn’t take long to get the books on the built-in shelves in the living room, and his handful of clothes packed away into the drawers.

Then he took stock of the kitchen. Empty cabinets, but a good assortment of pans and, pots, and utensils. He’d just need to hit the grocery store tomorrow to stock up. He was dreading that, but maybe if he went early enough, he could avoid running into anyone else.

Not for long, though. He needed to meet with the pack and tell them what the soothsayer had foretold, and he needed to find out more about the incident Moira had mentioned, the vandalism of the Rosewood tree. He hadn’t done it, despite what she believed, and finding out who actually had committed the crime might go a long way toward smoothing over how she felt toward him.

When the pizza arrived, Jonah was hunched over the kitchen table, notebook and pen in hand, scrawling a to-do list. It covered everything from solving the mystery of the tree vandal to convincing Moira not to hate him, and everything in between. Once it was all out on the paper, it was out of his head for the time being. He ate most of the pizza, stuck the leftovers in the fridge, and then crawled into bed.

Out his window, he could see the moon rise over the ocean. The sea was calm, gentle waves stirring the surface. There were parts of home that he had missed, and the salt air, the lullaby of the tides were some of them. But as he closed his eyes, the shadowy figures of all the people he’d let down or hurt filled the room and haunted his dreams.

***

“Oh, you’re still here.” Adria stood outside of Hot Shots, a chunky scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. “Wasn’t the funeral a few days ago?”

He was as surprised to see him as he was to see her, standing in Silversand town. The packs were close, but Rosewood had more of anything this town had to offer, closer, and probably higher quality. Jonah tucked his hands into his pockets, wishing he had a warm drink to hold.

“It was, but I think I need to stay for a while. There’s some pack stuff going on, and I can’t just take off.” Much as he wished he could.

But he was trying not to be the man that ran away from everything. And also, he couldn’t, not with fate tying him there. He was a dog on a leash, and it was better to find his place inside the range rather than throw himself against the restraint.

She did not look happy about it, her eyes closing for a beat too long. “Moira must be thrilled.”

Just her name sent a jolt through him. That mire of a situation rivaled the one left by his father.

“Can we go inside? I have a couple of questions,” Jonah asked, bouncing on his toes to keep warm. “I’ll buy you a coffee.”

Adria hesitated, glancing around the empty street as if Moira might be lurking. “Fine, but I can’t help you with Moira.”

Nobody could. He nodded and held the door open for her. They stepped into the blessed warmth of the coffee shop, and he inhaled the bitter, nutty smell of the coffee.

“Hey, Evelyn,” Adria greeted the barista behind the counter with a smile and got one in return, which was more than Jonah got. “Can I get a cinnamon latte?”

Jonah ordered one of the same and two croissants. He was eager to try one of everything that Moira had made, and the pastry case at the coffee shop was his only chance, since he was banned from the actual bakery.

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