Page 14 of Impregnated By the Alpha

There was a pause, a brief moment of hope, when Jonah thought the soothsayer had decided to keep that fate to himself after all. But then he went on.

“It is entwined with the fate of Moira Callaghan. Bonded. Mates. For all eternity, your thread will be braided with hers.” The soothsayer did not drop his finger, pointing at Jonah’s face like a threat.

Moira Callaghan. The gorgeous woman he’d seen in the pub. The one who hated him. The one he was warned away from. His mate? He couldn’t believe it.

“Are you certain?” Jonah asked, though he knew that the soothsayer was never wrong.

Again, the man continued as if Jonah hadn’t spoken, his golden eye unblinking.

“The fate of the Silversand pack rests in your joined hands. Your bond, the key to its future.” The old man dropped his finger at last.

He watched Jonah for another heartbeat before shifting suddenly back into his wolf form, loping away with surprising speed back into the woods. He vanished like a specter in the trees.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jonah said aloud, looking incredulously around at the gravestones behind him, the only other witnesses to the madness he’d just heard. “Why me, of all people?”

He tilted his head up to the sky, but the clouds had no response for him, no answers. The graves kept their silence. Jonah had never felt so alone, nor so cursed. Bonded to a woman who hated his guts. And not just that, but the entire fate of the pack depended on his mating with her. If the soothsayer foretold it, it must be true, but he couldn’t imagine the steps between his current situation and the one where Moira was his mate.

All he knew now was that he couldn’t run back to the White Winters yet, not with this prophecy hanging over his head. He’d heard stories of people trying to dodge their fate, running from it. They’d all been dragged back by circumstances beyond their control, arriving at the same place they’d tried to avoid, just with a whole lot more suffering along the way.

“Dammit.” Jonah kicked a rock down the path and followed it, heading for the Silversand town. Or what was left of it.

The steep downhill met a curving road, lined with decrepit houses with overgrown gardens. Most of the windows were dark. Jonah turned right onto the main street and shoved his hands into his pockets. They were shaking. His shoes crunched on the sand that littered the sidewalk, blown up from the beach just on the other side of the buildings.

Few shops were open, or still in business. Jonah passed shuttered windows and crumbling facades, until, finally, he found something that was open. A bookstore. A sign hung beside the sidewalk, an arrow pointing down a path with the words Flynn’s Hideaway: Used and New Books above it. The path was guarded by a low white gate beneath a trellis covered in a bushy, green vine. Jonah opened it and, ducking his head beneath the arch, made his way down the path.

It was dark, lush, and green, and the bookshop at the end was cozy with its white-washed clapboard and warm, yellow lights. Unlike the rest of the town, this place was still cared for, still loved. Maybe there was hope for the town yet.

The sign on the door said Open. Inside, the bookstore was every bit as cozy as it had looked from the outside. Books were shelved neatly, and plush, old carpets covered the floor. The checkout desk was covered in stacks of books needing sorting.

“Hello?” Jonah called out, finding the place empty. He double-checked the sign on the door. Definitely open, but there were no hours listed beside it to double-check that someone hadn’t just forgotten to flip the sign.

“Coming!” The voice surprised him, coming from somewhere he couldn’t see.

Given the state of the rest of the town, Jonah wouldn’t be surprised if the place was haunted. Maybe it was the ghosts taking care of this shop.

But the man who appeared from a backroom, teacup in hand, was solid and alive, looking just as surprised to see Jonah as Jonah was to see him. He was a few years older than Jonah, maybe in his mid-thirties, with the start of grey in his hair.

The man pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled. “I don’t know you. Rare to see a new face in this town. Did you get lost?”

There was no malice in the words, no hint that he wished Jonah was not there. Given the homecoming Jonah had expected, it was such a relief that he found himself smiling back, even though he knew it was only because the man hadn’t recognized him or placed him as the old alpha’s son.

“Not lost,” Jonah replied. “Though I do feel like I’ve stumbled into a depressed version of Wonderland. I’m Jonah.”

He held out his hand, and the other man took it, shaking it carefully. His teacup was very full. “Rami. Nice to meet you, Jonah. I promise you this town has its charms. It just keeps them well hidden, so don’t run off yet.”

Rami walked over to the desk and put aside a stack of books to set his tea down. Jonah knew he should tell him who he was, who he really was, rather than let Rami believe he was just a newcomer, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The sight of a friendly face after everything he’d been through was something he wasn't willing to ruin.

“I’m planning to stick around for a while,” Jonah said.

He started flipping through the books on the nearest shelf, nose wrinkling when he realized what it was. Local history. He turned to the next shelf. Horror. Jonah didn’t have the stomach for that genre, so he continued until he found the beach reads.

“Where are you staying?” Rami asked. He was flipping through the stacks of books on the desk, putting them into specific piles.

Jonah tucked a third book under his arm. “I’m not sure yet, actually. Know of anyone renting?”

His father’s place was open and free, but Jonah wouldn’t stay there even if someone had paid him to do so. It was full of garbage, dust, and bad memories. He’d probably hire someone to clean it out, rather than do it himself, just to avoid that trip down a bumpy, painful memory lane. Just another gift his father had left him, along with the legacy of neglect.

Rami considered for a moment, silent, then snapped his fingers. He had stacked the books so high in front of him that Jonah could only see the top of his head. “Yeah, actually. There’s an apartment above the cafe that lost its renter recently. I bet you can be in there tonight if you want. It’s already been empty for a couple of weeks.”

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