Page 52 of Alpha's Unclaimed Mate

“Mama, hungry.”

My extraordinary son, born to an extremely ordinary human, comes waddling into my study. His eyes are wide with innocence and his arms are outstretched, waiting for me to catch him.

I glance at my screen, swiftly switching off the camera while holding my arms out for Leon. He squeals as he sees me smile, his chubby legs picking up speed. He wiggles playfully as he crashes into my arms, his gurgling laughter filling the room.

“There’s some uncertainty surrounding the proposal,” I say into my headset while kissing Leon’s forehead and opening the top buttons of my shirt.

“Market fluctuations make it risky and increase scrutiny and potential manipulation claims. Due diligence is essential.” I ease my nipple into his mouth as I add, “To avoid legal pitfalls.”

Suddenly, the door swings open and Leon’s babysitter, Chloe, bursts in, her face flushed with embarrassment. I wave her off with a smile as she mumbles apologies.

While talking to the client, I look down at Leon, his fingers clutched tight on my shirt. It’s the third time he’s come for milk in two hours. Sometimes I think there’s a demon in him that’s forever hungry. At least I know it’s not really a demon; it’s just a wolf.

By the time our call ends, Leon’s eyelids are drooping. I burp him gently, pacing the ten-square-foot room until sleep claims him. Two laps around the tiny space, and he’s out like a light.

I notice Chloe standing by the door, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watches me, waiting for me to hand over the little bundle to her so she can transfer him to his cot, but I need a minute.

“Can you put his toys away and prepare two bottles for the night?” I whisper. She nods and walks away immediately. I continue pacing, running my fingers over Leon’s back and pressing kisses to his head. The smell of baby powder and the faint lavender scent that surrounds him soothes my nerves.

Being a mother fulfills me in ways I never imagined. Any anger I had for Theron feels immaterial now. I just want to succeed so I can give Leon the life he deserves. I’m never sure if I’m doing enough.

Chloe returns, and I hand Leon over so she can put him to bed while I get back to my next call.

“Whoa!” she gasps, balancing him in her arms. “He’s heavier than my two-year-old neighbor.”

My eyes widen as she walks away. It’s true. My baby is growing faster than his peers.

At three months he pointed to a sparrow and said, “Bird.”

At four months he took his first steps.

At five months he weighs twenty pounds, looks like a one-year-old, and is communicating his needs verbally, so far with only one-word requests like “hungry,” “toy,” and “water.”

He’s never wet the bed, not even once. The moment he needs to relieve himself, he lets out a distinct sound, signaling me to take him to the bathroom.

Every day he does something new, igniting a whirlwind of emotions—pride, love, and a growing fear of the unknown. Most people don’t react to him kindly, especially with the way he looks. He has thick hair sticking up from his head, sideburns on his face, and much more body hair than other kids his age. I generally keep him dressed in full-sleeved rompers whenever we go out.

“Want me to stick around?” Chloe asks, popping her head inside the room after a few minutes. “We can take him to the park. There aren’t many kids around at this hour.”

I smile. For her eighteen years, Chloe is precocious, but I’m not sure the park is a good idea. The three excursions in the park in the last month have all led to my child crying. People make nasty faces at him, children pull his hair, and then he spends the rest of the day sitting scared in my lap.

“Maybe next week?”

She nods. “Cool. I’m off then. See you Monday,” Chloe says, waving as she walks out with a sway in her steps. “Oh, and by the way, my sister got an A in that course you helped her with. Who knows, she might clear the bar this year!” she adds, her voice fading as she closes the door.

I shake my head, smiling. Even my little contributions to other people’s lives feel so fucking good. I stretch my arms out, letting out a loud yawn. My eyes catch on the shimmery gold dress hanging from the coatrack. Nothing gets you moving faster than knowing you have a party to attend that you can’t skip.

Grabbing the essentials from the closet, I head to the guest bathroom. It’s the one that has a bathtub, and with Leon probably out for an hour, I can soak for a while.

But within minutes, I hear little feet patter up to the door, and I sigh.

“Mama.” Tap. Tap. Tap. “Mama, open.”

Quickly throwing on a bathrobe, I let my boy in. He immediately puts his hands up for me to pick him up.

“Where’s Simba?” I ask, pressing a kiss to his cheek as I settle him on the vanity.

“Sleeping,” he says, his fists rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and I laugh. His favorite plushie gets more sleep than him.

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