Page 29 of New Year with the Cartel

A pattern emerged: find, claim, control, lose, repeat. Until me. Until fated mates and visions and a baby that bound us together more permanently than any of the others.

And in light of all that, I couldn't help but wonder if we were wrong. What if we weren't actually meant to be together forever? What if there wasn't truly such a thing as fated mates and it was all just made up? What if-

My laptop pinged with an incoming message from an encrypted source: "Now you know. The question is, what are you going to do? -R"

I closed the laptop, feeling sick. Rodriguez was my enemy, yes, but these weren't lies. The evidence was too detailed, too consistent with what Elias had told me. Too aligned with Fendwyr's recent behavior.

Photos and videos could be manipulated, but my research had indeed unearthed incontestable evidence, and Elias wasn't some kind of android. Technology was advanced, but not to that point. Not yet, anyway.

Another text from Fendwyr: "Coming home early. Miss you."

I looked at the message, then at the USB drive still plugged into my laptop. I had to make a decision. Had to choose between the fated mate I wanted to believe in and the truth staring me in the face.

Our baby kicked, as if sensing my distress. That was when I knew—this wasn't just about me anymore. Perhaps I'd always known that, but now the realization was much brighter in my mind.

Chapter 16

Fendwyr

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the golf course as I watched Gustall line up his shot. This should be a good moment in our lives, but I felt it was anything but. I didn't know why, and it was kind of making me mad about it.

Something was off about him—had been for weeks now. His movements were mechanical, his responses to my attempts at conversation clipped and distant. We also hadn't been intimate in a long time. I missed the feeling of his hands against me. Did he not think the same? Did he get tired of me?

Even now, as he adjusted his stance, I could sense his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking about something far distant from what was happening in this moment, and I had no idea what it was. He also refused to share it with me.

"Your form is improving," I commented, trying once again to engage him. He'd been resistant to learning golf at first, but I'd insisted. An alpha of my status needed a mate who could participate in social activities. Besides, the gentle exercise was good for the pregnancy.

There was nothing negative about it, except for how distant he felt from me. I wished he would just say what was bothering him. If he did, I'd be able to do something about it.

"Thanks," he muttered, not even looking at me. The ball sailed wide, missing the hole by several feet. He wasn't interested in the game; he couldn't care less about it. He was only playing because he felt forced to.

I approached him, fighting the urge to pull him against me, to demand answers about his increasingly withdrawn behavior. Instead, I retrieved another ball from my pocket. "Here, try again. This time, let me show you—"

"I can do it myself." His voice was flat, almost cold. He took the ball but didn't meet my eyes.

Something inside me twisted. This wasn't my omega, not the one who'd shared visions with me, who'd matched my passion with his own. This was someone else entirely, and I didn't like it one bit.

And I was getting tired of what he was doing. I had to do something about it. I had to tell him exactly what I was thinking.

"You've been distant lately," I said carefully, measuring his reaction. "Is it the pregnancy? Are you feeling unwell? You know you can tell me anything."

A bitter laugh escaped him. "Now you're concerned about my wellbeing? Now, of all times?"

"I'm always concerned about you." I moved closer, noting how he tensed. "You're carrying my child. Our first child." I couldn't help the pride that crept into my voice. And yes, I was planning on having more babies with him. "Do you know how long I've waited for this? A real chance at fatherhood, with my fated mate?"

Something flickered across his face—pain? Anger? Before I could decipher it, he turned away, gripping his golf club so tightly that his knuckles went white.

"Your first child," he repeated. "Is that what you really believe?"

Wait, what did he know that I didn't?

The air between us changed, filled with something dangerous. I didn't like it, but was going to confront it anyway.

"What do you mean?"

"I met Elias."

Two words. Just two words, but they hit me like physical blows. Memories flooded back—another omega, another pregnancy, and a loss that had driven me to violence. No. This couldn't be happening. Not now, when I thought I was having such a good moment with my omega.

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