Page 9 of Pregnant By the Alpha Wolf

I want to believe him, but I can’t help but feel like this is all a dream that will shatter at any moment. As we step outside, the rain is nearly horizontal, the wind nearly gale force. It feels like we’re being pushed by it. The walk to his cabin is thankfully short, as it is just across from the hall, but it feels long as my mind races. Is he really just waiting for me to come around? Or does he expect more?

The cabin sits nestled against the forest, its glass walls blending in with the trees that surround it. It’s impressive yet warm and inviting. Rowan leads me inside, and a few lights come on automatically, revealing a modern interior with steel beams and glass doors. There are wooden floors and furniture, and a large fireplace crackling in the corner that was clearly lit earlier in the day still warms the room with a strong smell of woodsmoke. It’s cozy despite the storm raging outside.

He turns to me and flashes his trademark fanged grin again. “What do you think?” His voice is smooth and inviting as he almost circles me, watching me take in my new surroundings.

I walk around slowly, taking in every detail of this place that seems so contradictory yet somehow harmonious. Artifacts from ages past litter the home, some even older than this country itself. They seem out of place among the modern furnishings but don't feel out of place around Rowan.

I can feel his power here. It's palpable.

Suddenly, a knock on the door breaks my train of thought. Rowan walks over and opens the door to reveal Rian, one of his betas who will be working at the lab, holding my bags. He nods his thanks and closes the door before turning back to me. "Now," he says, gently taking my hand, "let me show you to your room."

He leads me up the beautifully carved staircase and into a spacious bedroom with a king-sized bed draped in red velvet, which looks soft and inviting after the long day. Large windows along one wall look out over the forest beyond, but they're frosted with condensation from the storm outside. The room is warm and homely, with soft lighting casting shadows across the walls covered in paintings of wolves in various stages of life—family, perhaps?

"This will be your room," he says softly, releasing my hand as he turns to face me fully. "Feel free to make yourself at home." He lingers for a moment, almost as if he intends to say more, but then changes his mind, and with a nod, he's gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts once again.

I walk over to the window and press my palm against it, feeling the cold glass against my skin as I watch the storm rageon outside. It's mesmerizing, terrifying, and beautiful all at once. What am I getting myself into?

After finding all the drawers and wardrobes empty, I get to work putting the few things I brought with me away. The last item I unpack is the small picture of my parents I kept in the lab to remind me why this matters so much—not just my family, but everyone’s, and the packs themselves. I was going to put the picture up in the new lab, but somehow, having them here with me feels better. Perhaps I need the comfort more than I thought.

Wearily, I try to sleep that night, but sleep doesn't come easily between the storm and my racing mind. Usually, I’m kept awake by ideas for more research, but tonight, all I can think about is Rowan. Will he come back into my room? Do I want him to?

I finally feel myself drifting into a deep slumber. My dream is strangely realistic, and I’m back at the window, looking out at the storm. Rowan appears behind me, and I reach out to him, longing for his touch. He steps closer until there’s barely any space between us. Our breathing becomes ragged as he leans down and whispers against my ear, "You're safe with me."

He kisses my neck softly before trailing his lips down towards my collarbone. The sensation sends shivers down my spine, making me gasp softly. His hand finds its way to mine and intertwines our fingers as he guides it up under his shirt, over his warm skin...

Suddenly, I jolt awake with a gasp, tears streaming down my face from the intensity of the dream. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of my chest. With trembling fingers, I reach between my legs only to find myself already wet with desire—a new experience for me. I bite back a moan as Istart to touch myself, trying desperately to relieve some of this ache inside me.

Rowan's voice echoes in my mind: "You're safe with me."

It feels so real, like he’s here, but I’m completely alone.

Chapter 6 - Rowan

It feels like the day after the night before, but without the fun, I think to myself as I flip another crepe. I haven’t made these in years or even decades, but something about this morning called for crepes.

Perhaps it’s my complete lack of sleep. Entirely my own fault, of course. I live with two beasts inside my soul, one admittedly much quieter than the other. But when he wants something, he’s very persistent. Considering my wolf was very much in agreement over wanting to take my mate properly, I did the only thing that wouldn’t blow this situation up and left the girl alone.

However, the darker part of my vampiric nature couldn’t resist having a small taste. Able to tap into a person’s subconscious mind easily if there’s a connection, I allowed myself to take a quick peek. That’s all it was supposed to be. But Willow’s all but welcomed me in and rolled out the red carpet. I was able to manifest within her sleep state, touch her soft skin…I was just warming up when she’d flung me out, regaining her consciousness.

If that wasn’t bad enough, due to my acute hearing, I was then forced to listen as she pleasured herself down the hall. At one point, I had stormed to the door, ready to go take her myself, but having tasted her mind, I’d also tasted her innocence. If I had taken her last night, it would have been vicious. My beasts are not gentle, and she isn’t ready for what that means. I can’t lose her on day one. Not for my own sake, our pack alliance, or the research.

So, I did the only thing I could and took a cold shower. Which didn’t work to calm my urges as I imagined her curvybody sinking to the floor in front of me, her large breasts within my reach, her eyes dark with desire. My vampiric and shifter beasts desperate to lay their claim to her, I found some release, but it was hollow, as I suspect it will be until I can sink into her delicious body for the first time.

And now I’m making crepes. Proper ones. The sort I enjoyed in the streets of Paris many years ago—I pause, my hand on the spatula, mentally counting the years—perhaps a century ago.

I have always had a sweet tooth but haven’t indulged in proper crepes since my last visit to the Old World. I wonder why I haven’t indulged in many of my old pursuits in a very long time; perhaps that’s why my beasts are so restless with Willow so close. On that front, crepes will have to suffice today.

Just as I’m beginning to think I might have to wake my young bride, I hear footsteps in the hall upstairs, and then the sound of her soft steps down the stairs. As she walks in, I add the final crepe to the stack and place them on the kitchen island. I see her eyes dart between me and the food almost suspiciously, as though crepes were the last thing she expected to see this morning. I can’t help but chuckle at the scene.

“I know shifters are more inclined to a heartier breakfast, but I have rather a sweet tooth.”

She freezes for a moment, her auburn hair falling in freshly washed waves over her shoulders and her pale skin contrasting beautifully against the black turtleneck she’s wearing. My eyes are drawn to her ample breasts straining against the fabric, and an image from my vision last night appears unbidden in my mind. When my gaze flickers back to her face, her cheeks are burning again. I find that I like her even more flushed.

She approaches the island cautiously, and I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. She has no idea how much restraint I’ve shown already.

“Wow,” she breathes. She picks up a crepe and takes a tentative bite, her eyes closing in pure bliss. “Mmm,” she moans around the mouthful of food, and I can’t help but smile as I watch her. “This is...” she trails off and finishes the bite before continuing, “this is incredible.”

We eat in an almost companionable silence for a few moments until she clears her throat. “I think you mentioned you spent time in the Old World? Is that where you learned to make these so well?” She says, gesturing to the crepes.

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