Page 6 of Impregnated By the Alpha

Adria sucked in her cheek. “Depends on your definition of ugly, or if you’ve got eyes.”

Moira let her head fall to the desk, resting her forehead on the cool wood. “Great. So, my childhood bully got super-hot, and now he’s coming here where I have to look at his beautiful, stupid face all the time?”

“I’m sorry, Moira. If it helps at all, Beth says he’s nothing like your stories. That he’s the sweetest guy in the whole pack.”

That wasn’t saying much, when the White Winter pack was known for its brutality. She swirled the marshmallows around her cup, inhaling the soothing scent of vanilla and chocolate. Her life was complicated enough; what had she done to deserve yet another complication?

She glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. Ready or not, it was time to open the shop and get back to work, even if she only wanted to go home and crawl into bed with Loaf and an old movie.

“Thanks for coming to tell me,” Moira said, pulling Adria into a hug. “And for the pizza. Like I told Vera, I’ll be okay. I doubt we’ll see each other much anyway, if he’s as hands-off as his father was.”

Adria squeezed Moira before releasing her, saying, “He might surprise you. You don’t have to give him a second chance, and no one would expect you to, but I’ve had some surprises of my own lately. People can change.”

Moira walked with Adria to the door, sending her off with a dozen chocolate chip cookies. No one walked out of Tiers empty-handed.

“Yeah, maybe, but I’m not holding my breath,” Moira said.

She waved goodbye to Adria and flipped the sign back to open. Only a few more hours and she could be home, drowning her sorrows in popcorn and slasher flicks.

A pretty young human woman walked in half an hour before closing, looking around the shop with wide eyes.

“Welcome in,” Moira said, forcing more enthusiasm into her voice than she felt. It was rare to see a new face, and she needed to do everything she could to encourage it, but the day had worn her down. “Can I help you?”

The woman smiled hesitantly and walked up to the counter. “I saw that you have a wedding cake on your sign. I’m going to get married here, right on the beach, and I saw your place on my way by.”

Her exhaustion vanished. It had been so long since she’d made a wedding cake. She loved the challenge and the artistry involved in crafting such an important piece of an important day.

Moira pulled out a binder with her past occasion cakes and laid it across the counter, flipping open to the wedding cakes section. “We do! These are some of our past cakes, but we can do any design you’d like, and of course, you can sample all of our flavors, fillings, and frostings at a tasting.”

She flipped through the pages, stroking Moira’s ego with her sounds of delight and awe.

“This one is perfect,” she said, selecting a deceptively simple, three-tiered cake that would match the beach wedding feel. “Can I do each tier in a different flavor?”

Moira nodded, pulling out a sheet and jotting down notes as they hashed out some design details. She’d sketch a few potential designs and present them at the tasting to finalize her choice. Excitement thrummed through her. Wedding cakes were big money and could be a big draw, pulling in people from towns away if they were good enough.

“Thank you for coming in, and we’ll see you soon for that tasting,” Moira said, beaming.

The woman bought an assortment of pastries, paid her deposit, and left, promising to tell all of her friends about the hidden gem bakery. Moira locked the door behind her and settled in with her sketch pad and a cup of coffee. This was what the town needed, fresh faces and glowing reviews, not a leader who would be a copy of the man who had run it down in the first place. Not Jonah.

Chapter 3 - Jonah

He took the long way home. The White Winter territory met the Rosewood territory, which bled into the Silversand territory, and Jonah was in no rush to be there. Beth and Devon, Edwin dozing on his shoulder, had seen him off in the grey morning light while the rest of the pack slumbered. He hadn’t wanted their questions, their teasing goodbyes. Emma would be stung by it, but he’d be far out of reach of her ire.

They’d wrapped him in a fierce hug, and then, with a kiss atop Edwin’s curly-haired head, he was off. It was cold, a stark reminder that the lazy days of summer were behind him, and his fingertips began to ache as he wound his way down the trail. He tucked his hands into his pockets and picked up the pace until his own exertion warmed him.

The sun took its time weaving through the alders and the firs around him, dappling the leaves underfoot in gold. Without the backpack, he’d shift and make the journey in wolf form. As a wolf, his emotions were dulled, and his senses heightened, and he’d shake off the melancholy that had settled into his bones at the news of his father’s passing. Without it, the silence of the forest gave him far too much time to dwell on the past and the future and everything but the present.

At midday, he stopped and had lunch by a stream, soaking his feet in the water. He was at the edge of Rosewood territory now. Not long ago, he’d been part of the group that had kidnapped one of their wolves, forcing her to become the White Winter Luna. Beth had forgiven him, falling in love with Devon and the pack, but had the Rosewoods forgiven him? A tentative peace had formed between the packs, thanks to Beth and Adria’s friendship, but it was far from the solid bond that linked the Rosewoods and the Silversands. The White Winter pack had a long way to go in shaking off their reputation.

Once he finished the cold, roasted chicken, he set off for the dirt road that led into the Rosewood town. It was blindingly bright after the dim forest, the ground hard-packed from the recent dry weather. He kicked up dust as he walked, coating his shoes and the bottoms of his pants. The road sloped down, overlooking the idyllic town with its sprawling green, and crowded main street.

Houses dotted the landscape like gumdrops, yellow, red, and blue, all well-loved. He couldn’t help but compare them to the house he’d grown up in. It had been something once, a grand Victorian on the corner of Main Street, fenced in with dramatic iron. But his father’s neglect had made it more of a haunted house than a manor. The halls had been packed with useless stuff, and dust clung to every surface, so it felt like he needed a bath after walking through it. By any luck, it would be condemned now.

At last, the dirt road met a paved one. The hill leveled out, and he followed the road into the center of town, where it split to either side around the town green. He gazed up at the tree at the town’s center for a moment. A family picnicked beneath its shade, basket open on the checkered blanket.

Rather than continue on, Jonah found a spot in the sun, at the edge of the tree’s sprawling branches. With his backpack for a pillow, he lay back and drifted off, imagining for a moment that his life was simple, that he was just a regular man.

He woke when the cold found him, the sun sinking low toward the horizon. The green was empty now, though lights glowed in the shop windows, and a restaurant had its door open, chatter and music spilling out onto the street. Jonah gathered his backpack and ran his hand through his hair, dislodging a leaf and a bit of grass from his dark curls.

---