Page 37 of Impregnated By the Alpha

Jonah shifted and ran out into the rain, circling the lighthouse. No one lurked in the shadows, but the evidence of their presence was lying in the sand. A broken oar. The handle was cracked in half, probably from striking the side of the lighthouse. That must have been the thump they’d heard. But who had done it?

Mindful of the time ticking away, he circled the lighthouse again until he was confident whoever had been there was gone. Their scent vanished in the direction of the woods. He loped back up to the door where Moira was waiting, her flashlight a beacon. She’d spread a towel on the floor for him and he shook the worst of the water from his fur on it before shifting back.

“What did you find?” Moira asked, still clutching the flashlight. She shut and locked the door behind him.

“Someone was out there,” Jonah said, pushing his hair off his face. He was chilled again. “They broke an oar against the lighthouse. Probably just to scare us.”

Moira led him in front of the stove to warm up. “Who would do that? Why would someone do that? And how long were they watching us?”

She looked around at the windows, shut but not curtained. Someone could have been peering in them the whole time they were on that couch. The thought rattled Jonah. He’d been so wrapped up in her, he wouldn’t have noticed the danger lurking just outside.

“Their trail went off in the woods,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Whoever it was, they wanted us to know they’d been here. But why?”

“Do you think it was the same person who vandalized the tree and the shop?” Moira collapsed down onto the couch, but her eyes darted from window to window.

“Maybe. Or the person sleeping here before we started working on this place.” They’d asked everyone they could if they knew who was using the lighthouse as a shelter, both in the Rosewood and the Silversand pack, but no one had a clue.

He’d kept the sleeping bag and other supplies in a bag in the closet, just in case they came back and needed it, but again, no one had. Jonah had assumed it was just an unhoused person taking advantage of the empty building, but what if it was something more sinister? If Moira was right, someone was out there trying to cause havoc in the Rosewood and Silversand communities.

“At least we know it wasn’t a ghost,” Moira said, face pale. “I like scary movies, but this is too real. Trapped in a spooky lighthouse in a storm while some lunatic watches us? I’m never sleeping again.”

Jonah didn’t want the night’s turn to overshadow the moment they’d shared. He fixed them both bowls of food and this time, he sat close beside her on the couch, legs touching.

“Whoever it is, they want to stir up trouble between our packs.”

“And you still don’t think it’s a White Winter?” Moira shook her head, disbelieving. “This is really good, Jonah. I’m impressed. It’s almost good enough to make me forget about the pervert running around out there.”

He swelled with pride. “Almost? I’ll have to step it up next time. And no, I don’t think it’s a White Winter. All the way out here? They’ve got enough to deal with right now.”

But he wasn’t entirely positive that was true. There were some members of the pack that had a vindictive streak. He’d have to reach out to Devon and Beth to be certain.

Moira put her empty bowl down and picked up the flashlight again, knuckles white around it. “What if they come back?”

“I’ll keep you safe, Moira. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she melted against him, resting her head on his chest.

As long as they were trapped in the lighthouse, he could pretend she was his. He hoped the storm lasted a long, long time.

Chapter 12 - Moira

“Gross! What is this?” Vera spat a mouthful of cookie into a napkin and took a long drink of coffee to wash the taste from her mouth.

Moira jerked away from the window where she’d been staring at nothing, lost in thought. “What? You’re so dramatic. What’s wrong with it?”

Vera shoved the rest of the cookie at her. “Dramatic? Try it. You’ll do the same thing I did. Did you put salt in instead of sugar or something?”

Taking a tentative nibble, Moira grimaced. “Ew. That is gross. Shoot, now I have to throw this whole batch out.”

She dumped the tray into the trash and looked around the kitchen, wondering where she’d gone wrong during the baking process. It wasn’t like her to mess up but these past few weeks were anything but normal. And lately, her mind had been drifting back to that night with Jonah any time she let it wander. How he’d touched her like he worshipped her.

Vera snapped her fingers. “There you go again. Earth to Moira. What has gotten into you? I’m afraid to eat anything else, seriously.”

“Oh no.” Moira pretended to be hurt. “What will I do without you eating half my inventory without paying for it?”

Rumors of Moira’s involvement with Jonah had already spread through the Rosewood pack, and she had no idea who’d started them. Vera had stormed over immediately upon hearing it, demanding an explanation.

“This is about Jonah, isn’t it,” Vera went on, waving her coffee cup around. “I have no idea what you’re thinking getting involved with your bully. Honestly, I thought you had more self-respect than that, and that’s saying something. But obviously, it’s affecting you. You’ve been more of a mess than ever.”

Concentrating on taking slow, deep breaths, Moira resisted the urge to strangle her sister. Barely. “I told you it’s part of a deal. I pretend to be his mate, and he buys me the bakery.”

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