Page 9 of A Secret Baby By the Alpha

Colson was more emotional than I had ever seen him before. It wasn’t just that I had disobeyed his order, either—he was genuinely upset about the encounter with Desmond’s pack. I had known Desmond was bad news when I first met him, but if even Colson was acting like this, then maybe he had a point about staying close to the pack.

“None of this would have happened if you had just taken us home,” I pointed out.

“You’re right. Then we’d all be at Alpha Desmond’s mercy, and I’d be too busy protecting my pack to come protectyou. Again. Just… do what I say, Christa,” Colson said. “And don’t leave the damn house again.”

Chapter 5 - Colson

Considering the danger she had put herself in, I felt like I had controlled my anger admirably. Anyone else who would have disobeyed a direct order like she had would have faced steep consequences for their stupidity. I still hadn’t ruled it out, but for now, I let her go to check on Jenny.

Her daughter was the only truly innocent one in all of this. I hadn’t heard more than ten words from her since she stepped out of the van last night, but even I could see that she was a kind-hearted girl. She clearly idolized her mother. That kind of blind loyalty was admirable, but if Christa continued going against my directives, it was going to land both of them in a pile of trouble. I would need to be on my guard to make sure neither of them got on the wrong side of the other Dark Alphas again.

I did a quick check to ensure my outdoor security measures were still in place. I had forgotten to enable the alarms when I went to sleep last night, but I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

When I was sure that everything was in place, I headed back inside and went to the kitchen. It was early, and I hadn’t had coffee yet. Soon, the sound of coffee percolating and bacon sizzling filled the house. Moments later, I heard the bedroom door open, and soft footsteps padded into the living room.

“Colson?” Christa asked hesitantly.

“In here,” I responded.

She came into view, Jenny a step behind her. I could tell that the girl was afraid of me, and I winced slightly.

“Jenny is hungry,” Christa explained. “Can I get her something to eat?”

“Of course,” I said. “I made plenty of breakfast. What can I get for you, kiddo?”

“Anything is fine,” Jenny responded.

She sat down at the kitchen table and waited patiently while her mother filled a plate with toast, bacon, and fruit. Christa placed it on the table in front of Jenny alongside a glass of orange juice.

“Aren’t you going to eat with me?” Jenny asked her mother.

“You go ahead, baby. I’m not hungry right now,” Christa said, petting Jenny’s straight blond hair. Her touch was tender, at odds with the ferocity she had shown toward me and everyone else since last night. Just from watching this short interaction between them, I could see that Christa had turned into a wonderful mother. Just like I had always thought she would be.

“Are you sure, Mom? You always said breakfast is the most important meal,” Jenny argued. The girl was shy, but I could see that her reticence covered up a feisty interior.

“It’s the most important meal for growing girls like you,” Christa said with a smile. “Eat up, sugar plum.”

As Jenny dug into her plate, I remembered that Christa had never been much of a breakfast person, but she drank coffee like her life depended on it. I poured her a cup, pushing it wordlessly across the kitchen island toward her. Our eyes met as she picked it up.

Goddess, she’s gorgeous.

I felt a prick of jealousy as I thought about Jenny’s father. Christa had lived an entire life without me in the past ten years.She had been committed enough to someone—a human, even—that she had decided to have a child with him. I wanted to know more about their story, but I also dreaded finding out the truth. Had she been happy with him? Is that why she was trying so hard to leave?

“Thank you for breakfast, Mr. Colson,” Jenny said when she finished eating.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, taken aback by her politeness. I hadn’t spent much time with children, but I was under the impression that they were mostly self-serving and less likely to have good manners. “You can just call me Colson, though.”

She smiled at me and brought her plate to the sink, which she began to clean.

“I can do that,” I told her.

“She’s used to doing the dishes at home,” Christa explained.

“It’s my chore,” Jenny announced proudly. “That and cleaning my room. And sometimes taking out the trash, but only if Mom asks me to.”

“Your dad doesn’t take out the trash?” I asked, hoping it came across as an innocent question. I hadn’t intended to be so forthright, but I couldn’t help but take advantage of the opportunity to learn more about Christa’s life.

“I’ve never met my dad. It’s just me and Mom. We’re a team,” Jenny stated with a smile.

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