Page 28 of Impregnated By the Alpha

Before he went to see Moira, he had to speak to Devon. Jonah stepped into the cover of the trees and shifted into his wolf form. He let out a long howl, the call of the White Winter pack, and waited for a response. It came a moment later, just long enough for him to start to wonder if it would come at all. Devon’s call.

Jonah ran for the sound. They howled back and forth, zeroing in on each other’s position. He left the Rosewood territory, crossing into the no-man’s land that filled the space between the White Winters and the Rosewoods, a dense thicket of wild wood.

It wasn’t just Devon. Half of the pack spilled into the clearing, Devon and Beth at the lead with Emma close behind. Jonah shifted. Even after only a short time away, it felt odd being back among them.

“Already giving up?” Emma snarked, smoothing her hair back from her face.

Beth shot her a look that, surprisingly, shut her up. “Hey Jonah. Is everything okay? We weren’t expecting to hear from you so soon.”

Jonah pushed his hands deep into his pockets. “It’s.. fine. So maybe everybody already hates me because I was a dipshit teenager, but that’s not why I’m here.”

Devon grabbed his shoulder and gave him a squeeze, grinning. “It just means you’re a real White Winter, being hated everywhere you go.” He sobered, taking a second look at Jonah’s face. “What is it, Jo?”

“Something strange is going on in the town. Vandalism. They’re targeting the Rosewood landmarks.” Jonah lowered his voice, pitching it for Devon and Beth alone. Emma leaned in. “I hate to ask, but, was it anyone in the pack?”

The three other wolves exchanged a look. Jonah was already on the outside of their world.

“Not us,” Beth said, shaking her head. “I promise that. Not even Emma would dare. Right, Emma?”

Emma shrugged. “I’ve got better things to do.”

“I didn’t think so really,” Jonah said, “but either way, they think it’s a White Winter.”

“And they probably think it's you because you’ve got that guilty, hang-dog face on 24/7 and they hate you anyway. Give it up and come home already, Jo.” Emma’s dig hit harder than she could know in the wake of everything with Moira.

He hung his head. “I’m not coming back until I’ve sorted everything out here. I just wanted to give you guys a heads up.”

Devon caught his arm as he turned and pulled him a little away from the rest of the pack. “Look man, just know that you can always come back. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Not even yourself.”

If only Devon knew. He had everything to prove. Not just to the packs but to Moira too. He watched them shift and retreat into the woods, off on their hunt, and wished he could run with them. Escape in the simple joy of being a wolf. But he had places to be and someone waiting on him.

It was fully dark by the time he reached her place. He knocked on the door and stepped back to wait, glancing up at her window. She was home, judging by the light glowing there, but that was no guarantee she’d come down to see him. Maybe she’d just toss his coat out the window.

Then he heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and her voice, muffled through the door.

“Coming!” She called before flinging the door open.

“Hey, Moira,” he said, rubbing the back of his head with one hand.

Her hair was pulled up in a messy pile on top of her head, and the smell of sugar and vanilla hung in a cloud around her. He hadn’t yet decided which look he liked best on her, but this one, the faded t-shirt and yoga pants, was a strong contender.

“Here you go,” she said, holding the jacket out to him.

“Thanks.” He didn’t want to take it yet; he didn’t want her to have a reason to shut the door and leave him. “Can we go for a walk?”

She reared back. “A walk?”

He should have thought this through more, but he hadn’t planned it. It was just in that moment when she was standing there, close enough to touch, that he realized he wanted more time with her. Needed it. Just to sort out everything with the soothsayer and the pack, he told himself. His interest in Moira could not go beyond that. It would only complicate something that was already a monstrous knot.

Jonah shifted from foot to foot. “To the beach, maybe?”

She considered, which was a victory over slamming the door in his face. “Fine. But not for long.”

Then she did shut the door, and he heard her running back up the stairs. He tried to kill the leap of excitement he felt rising in him at another night with Moira by his side, but it proved impossible. By the time she came back down, wrapped in a coat, he was bouncing on his toes.

“Why did you want to go for a walk?” She asked bluntly as they headed toward the beach.

He kept a careful distance between them but wished she’d let her arms hang by her sides again, where he could brush his fingers against hers. Instead, she kept them wrapped tightly around her body as if cold despite her puffy coat.

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