Page 53 of Alpha's Unclaimed Mate

He watches me as I do my skincare routine. When I put moisturizer on my face, he asks for some, and I laugh. I wash his face before applying just a drop to his skin. He giggles and leans in, putting his face out and murmuring “more.” I squeeze a drop on his palm and do the same on mine, showing him how to rub it in. He repeats my actions exactly. I put another drop on his palm and get back to my makeup.

If there’s ever an award for a fuss-free baby, it should be given to my child. One drop of moisturizer on his palm and he is completely entertained.

“Are you excited about Auntie Jane’s dinner tonight?” I ask, pressing another kiss to his forehead.

Jane and Gunner are hosting an engagement dinner. The last six months of their relationship have been fraught with friction over the same “work wife” of Gunner’s. Just when Jane was ready to give up, Gunner brought out his grandma’s ring. The irony isn’t lost on me. But Jane feels giving up now would mean wasting the last six years, and so tonight we celebrate. I don’t agree with it—and I’ve even told her that—but I’ll still support her in her choice.

Instead of his usual romper, I dress Leon in a cute tuxedo I picked up from a kid’s store last week. Soon we are stepping into Jane’s family’s brownstone townhouse on the Upper East Side.

The wail of a kid crying in one of the rooms is barely muffled by a door as Jane and I hug. “I think it’s a sign,” she whispers before turning to Leon, pulling him in for a hug, complimenting him on his fancy clothes.

“The caterers are still not here. Gunner’s mother announced she has recently developed a tomato allergy, so half the food is unacceptable now. One of my father’s business deals is suddenly under threat and he needs to be personally involved to resolve it.”

“It’s just one night,” I reply, holding onto Leon’s hand while he tries to shirk my grip to chase two of Jane’s nephews, who are running wild in the living room.

Jane steps away to check on one of her guests when a young boy approaches us. He stares at Leon with a frown on his face before reaching for his plushie, Simba.

“Hey!” I immediately flop onto my knees, expecting Leon to get knocked down, but my son, of course, grips my arm tighter for support while trying to hold on to his toy. The other kid is three and manages it yank it hard enough to pullit away from him and stutters “mm… monkey,” before running away.

I feel like smacking that little prick in the face when Leon’s bloodcurdling scream rings out. Leon has a strong sense of dominance and possession. Jane’s sister and mom come running over, which only makes him cling to me tightly and whisper “home” in my ear.

The boy’s father appears a few minutes later, with the toy in one hand and his son in the other.

“Say sorry,” he says to his son through gritted teeth, handing him the plushie. The boy is in tears. I try to pry Leon’s grip off my neck so he can face them, but he refuses, so when the boy does as he’s asked, I accept his apology and take Simba back. The man apologizes to me and leaves.

Leon takes a while to calm down, but after a walk in the garden, his sobs settle down. By the time we’re back inside, the dinner is laid out. Thankfully we are seated alongside the oldies in the family, who are happy to coo at him.

“Look at those beautiful eyes!” one of Gunner’s older aunts exclaims, her gaze softening. “He’s such a handsome boy.”

I smile politely, noticing the sideways glances and hushed murmurs.

“How old is he?” another one asks. I want to lie but I don’t, even though admitting he’s only six months old draws a round of surprised gasps.

“Whoa! He’s quite big for his age, isn’t he?”

“He reminds me of Grandpa Phillips. I mean, with all that hair.”

“Look at him eating solids.”

“Yeah, he’s like a little man already,” another guest chimes in, her eyes locked on Leon’s sideburns.

Leon giggles, reveling in the attention as someone ruffles his hair, or winks at him, or gently pulls his cheek. He’s blissfully unaware of the judgment in their voices.

I nod along, forcing a smile as I smooth down Leon’s hair, but my son stays playful throughout it all. He even steals bits and pieces from my plate after finishing the chopped banana and boiled apples I packed for him.

I’m in the middle of giving an unofficial opinion on a court case to Gunner’s brother when I notice another one of Jane’s nephews approaching Leon. His eyes are fixed on Leon’s sideburns, and before I can react, he reaches out and yanks them hard.

Leon lets out a surprised yelp, his eyes filling with tears. He instinctively reaches up with his tiny hand, his movements more fluid and determined than those of a regular baby.

I notice people exchanging glances while the boy runs away. Jane’s sister is red-faced and mortified. Her husband is fuming.

The lunchbox flies onto the floor as Leon shoves it away while crying out, trying to hide his face. I immediately pull him out of his high chair and hold him close, murmuring soothing words into his ear. And then I feel the warmth of a surprising wetness spreading on my lap. I close my eyes, realizing he’s wet himself and some of it has leaked onto my dress.

His sobs break my heart.

“We should go home,” I whisper to him, wiping his tears and rubbing his back. Leon murmurs “okay” between hiccups against my shoulder.

Jane comes over, her expression apologetic. I offer her a reassuring smile; it’s not her fault. “Please apologize to your parents for me, but we should probably head home. I’ll call you later, okay?”

---