Page 42 of The Alpha's Auctioned Pregnant Mate

She nodded, her eyes still on the playing children. "The sense of community, the support system... it's something I never really had growing up. Don't get me wrong," she added quickly, turning to meet his gaze, "my parents did their best. But it was always just us against the world."

His heart ached for her. Without thinking, Articus reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry the rogues had to go through that, Wren. No one should have to face the world alone."

For a moment, he thought she might pull away. But then her fingers curled around his, returning the pressure. They sat like that for a while, hand in hand, watching the world go by.

Eventually, they continued their tour. Articus showed her the community garden, where pack members grew vegetables and herbs to share. Wren seemed particularly interested in this, asking questions about the different plants and how the system worked.

"You know," he told her as they walked between the neat rows of greenery, "if you're interested, you could have a plot here. Many find gardening therapeutic."

Wren looked surprised, then thoughtful. "I... I might like that, actually. I've never really had the chance to grow anything before."

The idea of Wren putting down roots there, even in this small way, filled Articus with a warmth he couldn't quite explain.

As they neared the edge of town, Articus heard the sound of music drifting on the breeze. Wren perked up, her head tilting in curiosity.

"What's that?" she asked.

Articus grinned, realizing what day it was. "Come on, I'll show you."

He led her down a winding path to a clearing where a group of pack members had gathered. Some were playing instruments—guitars, drums, even a fiddle—while others danced or simply sat and enjoyed the music.

"We do this every week," Articus explained as they found a spot to stand. "It's a chance for everyone to relax, socialize, share their talents."

Wren watched the scene with wide eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's... lovely," she said softly.

As they stood there, listening to the music, Articus found himself swaying slightly to the rhythm. Without thinking, he held out his hand to Wren. "Want to dance?"

She looked at his outstretched hand, then up at his face, uncertainty clear in her eyes. For a moment, he thought she would refuse. But then, slowly, she placed her hand in his.

Articus led her into the group of dancers, finding a space among the swirling couples. Gently, he placed his other hand on her waist, and they began to move to the music.

At first, Wren was stiff, her movements awkward. But as the song progressed, she began to relax, following his lead more naturally.

The warm light of the setting sun cast a golden glow on her skin, highlighting the gentle curve of her cheekbones and the graceful line of her neck. Despite the hardships she had faced, there was an innate elegance to her movements.

By the time the music ended, they were both slightly out of breath, and there was a flush to Wren's cheeks that Articus found utterly captivating.

"Thank you," she said softly as they made their way back to the edge of the clearing. "I can't remember the last time I danced."

Articus smiled, resisting the urge to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You're welcome. You're a natural, you know."

Wren ducked her head, but not before he caught the pleased smile on her face.

They had circled back toward his house now, and Articus realized they had been out for hours. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the ground.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "We could grab something to eat if you'd like."

Wren hesitated, then nodded. "That would be nice, actually."

Articus led her to a small café near the edge of town. It was a cozy place, with outdoor seating overlooking a picturesque lake. They settled at a table, and he couldn't help but notice how the setting sun made Wren's skin glow.

As they looked over the menus, Articus stole glances at her. She seemed more relaxed now, some of the tension from earlier melting away. It made his heart ache, knowing what she had been through and wishing he could erase all the pain and hardship from her past.

Their food arrived—a hearty stew for him and a colorful salad for Wren. As they ate, the conversation flowed more easily than it had before. They swapped stories about their childhoods, carefully avoiding the more painful topics.

"So there I was," Articus said, grinning at the memory, "covered head to toe in mud, trying to explain to my mother why I thought it was a good idea to chase a rabbit down its burrow."

Wren laughed, a genuine, unguarded sound that made his heart skip a beat. "Did you at least catch the rabbit?"

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