Page 53 of Bully Alpha's Pregnant Mate

That’s all she needs to say for my stomach to drop. When my sister’s visions come, they come with a purpose. And they don’t come to warn of small inconveniences.

She twists her hands together as if she’s bracing herself, figuring out how to tell me the worst possible news. “I saw… blood,” she begins, her voice wavering, “and demons. So many demons.”

My pulse spikes, every word tightening around me like a vice. I clench my jaw, trying to keep my focus on my sister instead of letting my mind spiral, even as it starts to, anyway. “Go on,” I manage.

She swallows, and her voice drops lower, each word more weighted than the last. “And I saw her, Alec. I saw Isadora… and a baby.”

My chest goes cold. Jade’s barely getting the words out, her voice thick with something that sounds like grief. “A baby?” I echo, the word sounding foreign, like something that doesn’t belong in this context.

“Yes.” Jade’s hands are trembling now, and she looks up at me. “They were both… I saw them both… dying.”

Everything around me blurs for a second, the ground tilting as her words settle in, sinking like stones into water. I feel myself go rigid. The shock slams into me so hard it’s like being hit by a freight train. I repeat the word in my mind, trying to let it settle, but the words barely make sense. A baby? Isadora’s baby?

No, our baby.

The realization hits me harder than any strike I’ve taken on the battlefield, each beat of my pulse pounding with the weight of it. I never thought… we’d never talked about it. And now, knowing there’s a life inside her—our child, growing, vulnerable—it makes every instinct scream to protect them both, to keep them safe and out of reach from whatever horror Jade saw.

I drag in a breath. It catches in my throat, feeling more raw, more intense than anything I’ve faced. I didn’t know I could feel this exposed, this split open. It’s like someone’s just handed me the world, fragile and breakable, and asked me to keep it safe with nothing but my bare hands. And if anything happens to Isadora, to the baby…

God, the idea of losing her is enough to tear me apart. But now there’s this tiny piece of us, this life, so fragile and new, and I can’t lose that. I can’t lose either of them. The knowledgeis staggering, knocking the air from my lungs, replacing every other thought with a single, blinding need to get to her.

My mind goes blank, drowning in the image Jade just painted—a baby and Isadora, both of them dying. That’s not happening. I shake my head, pushing it away before the fear takes root, but it’s already lodged there, throbbing like a heartbeat, refusing to be ignored.

“Alec?” Jade’s voice is soft, as though she knows any louder would break something. “I know it’s… it’s difficult. But you need to understand this vision. It’s not something to ignore.”

“Not planning to,” I declare, though my throat is so tight, the words barely escape. My gaze cuts past her, unfocused, searching the horizon as if I’ll spot Isadora out there, safe and close. But she’s miles away, leading a mission I can’t control.

The thought of her out there, pushing herself to catch a demon while carrying our child makes my pulse hammer so hard, it hurts. The urge to find her, to shield her from anything that could hurt her… hurt them… swells until it’s all I can think about.

“Alec.” Jade’s voice steadies me, drawing me back. Her hand rests on my arm. “You need to go. She needs you. And Quincey can handle things here.”

I glance back toward the packhouse, then to the trees, torn between the weight of my responsibilities and the undeniable pull to go after Isadora. For so long, I’ve been the one keeping the borders secure, bearing the load. I’d told myself that was my role as alpha: to bear the weight alone. But now, every cell in my body screams that I need to let someone else step in, that it’s not just about duty; it’s about who I can’t bear to lose.

Before I can move, Quincey is there, his gaze shifting between Jade and me. “What’s going on?”

“I need you to take charge here,” I reply, locking my gaze on his. “Everything—the borders, any emergencies—it’s yours until I get back.”

His brows lift, disbelief flickering over his face. “Alec, what are you—”

“Isadora’s out there, and she’s—” My voice chokes up. “She’s in danger, Quincey. I can’t stand by here. Not when she’s…” I take a breath. “Not when she’s carrying my child.”

It takes a second for the words to sink in. Quincey’s expression shifts, questions already rising in his mind, but he reads the urgency in my eyes and goes still. His gaze turns serious as he takes it in. “You go, Alec. I’ll keep things steady here.”

The relief hits me hard, and I clap him on the shoulder, holding on for a beat longer than usual. “Thank you, Quincey. It’s… it’s in your hands now.”

“Go. Find her, Alec, and bring her back. Bring them both back.”

Jade squeezes my arm, stepping back as her expression softens. “Trust that they’ll be fine here. Trust Quincey. Just bring her back safe.”

I hesitate, glancing one last time at the packhouse—the structure that, until now, felt like my one true responsibility. But Jade’s right. My gaze shifts from Quincey to her, catching the understanding in her eyes. “Thank you,” I murmur, voice rough. “For telling me everything.”

Without a second thought, I let my wolf take over. My bones stretch, and my body shifts. The release of tension, of control, is instant. My muscles expand as my form lengthens, twisting until fur bristles over my skin. My senses sharpen.

Every detail around me is heightened as I sprint forward, paws slamming into the ground, tearing through the underbrush. Scents rush at me—earth, moss, and the faintest trace of smoke carried on the night air, propelling me forward.

It’s Isadora and our child I’m running toward, and I won’t be stopped.

Every nerve in my body homes in on her, pushing me to cover ground faster and close the distance. Branches whip past as I tear through the forest, only one thing clear in my mind: reaching her.

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