Page 43 of The Alpha's Auctioned Pregnant Mate

He shook his head ruefully. "Not even close. But I did learn an important lesson about knowing when to admit defeat."

As Articus listened to Wren share a story about her first attempt at shifting, he found himself captivated by her quick wit and dry humor. The way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the animated gestures she made as she talked—he could watch her for hours.

At one point, Wren laughed at something he said, and the sound was like music. He realized he had been staring and quickly looked down at his food, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

As the meal wound down, a comfortable silence fell between them. Wren gazed out at the lake, lost in thought. The fading sunlight caught in her hair, turning it to spun gold. His fingers itched with the desire to run through those soft strands.

"Articus?" Wren's voice pulled him from his reverie.

"Hmm?"

She turned to face him, a small smile playing on her lips. "Thank you for today. For showing me around, and... well, for everything, I suppose."

His heart swelled at her words. "You're welcome, Wren. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

She looks at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, her smile widened just a fraction. "So, tell me... what's the craziest thing you've ever done as Alpha?"

He grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, you wouldn't believe me if I told you..."

Chapter 15 - Wren

A week had passed since Articus showed Wren around White Moon, and she was still trying to process everything she'd seen and learned.

The sense of community, the support systems in place, the way everyone seemed to work together—it was so different from anything she'd ever known.

As a rogue, she'd always been on the outskirts, never truly belonging anywhere. But here, in this pack, she found herself longing for something she never thought she'd want: a home.

And then there is Articus himself.

She was curled up on the window seat in the guest room—her room, she supposed, for now—watching raindrops race down the glass. The soft patter of rain against the windowpane provided a soothing backdrop to her tumultuous thoughts.

Her fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on the cool glass as her mind drifted back to that day, to the warmth of Articus's hand in hers as they sat on that bench, to the way her heart raced when they danced.

The memory of his strong arms around her, guiding her through the steps, sent a shiver down her spine. She could still feel the heat of his body, smell his intoxicating scent—a mix of pine, earth, and something uniquely Articus.

For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to be held by him again, to feel his lips on hers...

But then reality crashed back in, and she remembered how he pulled away when they almost kissed in the marketplace. How careful he'd been to maintain a polite distance ever since.

The ache in her chest intensified as she wondered if she'd imagined the connection between them, if perhaps she was just another responsibility for the Alpha of White Moon.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her brooding. "Wren?" Articus's voice called from the other side, sending her heart into overdrive. "Are you ready?"

Right. Their... date? Was that what this was? Articus had suggested they go for a drive or maybe have a picnic if the weather cleared up.

She'd agreed, but now, faced with the reality of spending more one-on-one with him, she felt a knot of anxiety forming in her stomach. What if she said the wrong thing? What if he realized how out of place she was here?

"Coming," she called back, forcing herself to stand on legs that suddenly felt weak. She gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror—jeans, a soft sweater, hair pulled back in a simple braid.

It would have to do. She'd never been one for fancy clothes or elaborate hairstyles, and she refused to start pretending now, even if part of her wished she could transform into someone more... suitable for an Alpha.

When she opened the door, Articus was there, looking unfairly handsome in a navy button-down and dark jeans.

The shirt stretched enticingly across his broad shoulders, and she had to force herself not to stare. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and her traitorous heart skipped a beat.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice warm and rich like honey. "You look nice."

She managed a small smile, fighting the urge to fidget under his gaze. "Thanks. You too."

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