Page 36 of Fated to the Enemy Alpha

Before long, her tiny breaths slowed, and I gently laid her back down, watching her sleep for a while. With difficulty, I left her room, my shoulders tightening.

Returning downstairs, I found Stephen and Emily sipping coffee, chatting about New York and Em’s work as a software engineer. As I watched him engage with one of my best friends, the world seemed surreal, as if I’d stumbled into a dream.

We took our coffees to the living room, where the world became even more off-kilter as Betty suddenly appeared, her blankie trailing behind her.

“Hey there, sweetie. How’s my little Swanling feeling?” Emily exclaimed in a bright tone that didn’t sound anything like her usual one.

Betty blinked at her dazedly, and for a moment, I thought our game was all able to come crashing down like a house of cards.

But Betty’s flushed face brightened with a smile. “I’s feeling a bit better, Mommy.” She wandered over to Emily, letting her pull her into her lap.

But my daughter’s gaze pivoted toward me, then curiously over to Stephen.

“Would you like to come meet Auntie Lina’s friend?” I asked Betty, not expecting her to move from Em’s lap. My daughter had always been shy of strangers. Even the few times she’d met Matthew and Emily’s family, she’d barely said a word.

But my heart beat rapidly as she nodded, a small smile edging her lips as she came over to us.

“This is Stephen, sweetie. Stephen, this is Betty, the finest ballerina you’ll find in all of Philadelphia.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Betty,” Stephen said, his gaze brushing over her.

In that harrowing moment, as our fabricated story hung by a thread, I struggled to keep my composure. Would he recognize something in her? The way her bright blue eyes sparkled in the sunshine reminded me so much of my own.

“My daddy’s sleeping,” Betty told Stephen, and in that moment, I seriously thought she deserved an Oscar.

“Your daddy’s been up all night because you were feverish, isn’t that right?” I said.

Betty nodded, still not taking her eyes off Stephen. “Are you my Uncle Stephen?” Betty asked, her beautiful blue stare hopeful.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and in this precarious moment, I felt exposed, knowing my entire life was in danger of being laid bare to him. Needing to get his attention off me, I suggested, “How about Auntie Lina reads you a story?”

Betty cheered up, oblivious to the weight of the moment. She wandered to the coffee table where Swan Lake lay, but instead of bringing it back to me, she turned to Stephen. “Will you read, Uncle Stephen?”

“Of course I will. How can I say no to the little ballerina?” he said, a genuine smile breaking across his face. For a moment, I was dazzled by its brilliance. I didn’t think I’d seen that smile since the night we met. My throat tightened, and my heart fluttered.

As Betty settled beside him, nestling into his warmth, Stephen began to read the story in a low and soothing tone, a departure from his usual cadence. And the effect his voice had on my daughter as if a spell were falling over her, was evident in every word.

Emily shot me a surprised look. I couldn’t help but feel an unsettling blend of worry and wonder. I knew deep in my bones that their unexpected bond was something that not even all our pretending could prevent. After all, we weren’t humans. There was something instinctual in us shifters when it came to recognizing our mates and our young.

The nervous energy beat through me as I felt how precarious a position I was now in. Even if Betty continued to give the best performance, how long was it before Stephen uncovered who she really was?

Chapter 14

Stephen

Later in the afternoon, I met Matthew—Betty’s father. He was almost as tall as my six-foot-two frame, which made me feel a flicker of camaraderie tinged with competition as we greeted one another. His blond hair framed a strong face, the sunlight catching the angles of his jaw. Those blue eyes, however, held a quiet intensity that felt scrutinizing and assessing. He wore sweatpants and a simple T-shirt that showcased intricate tattoo sleeves winding down his arms.

Matthew mostly kept to himself throughout the afternoon, looking worn and tired. There were shadows under his eyes—testament to the sleepless night spent caring for Betty. And yet, he frequently cast curious but cautious glances my way. As Betty’s father, it was natural for him to be protective, but something hinted at deeper concerns as he gauged the situation. I was just a colleague and friend of Lina’s—at least in theory—but I felt as if he could see through to the more complicated layers of our relationship. Beneath his scrutiny, I couldn’t help wondering how much Lina had told her friends about me.

Emily was in the kitchen, her striking black hair mirroring the ebony hue of Betty’s, working intently on her laptop while the soft tapping of keys was the only sound that punctured the stillness around us. Her focus felt misplaced when her daughter had a fever. Why was she so engrossed in her work while her little girl was sick? I reproached myself for my judgment. After all, perhaps she’d called Lina here because she really needed to get some work done.

As the afternoon wore on, questions about Lina and how tense she seemed since my arrival plagued me. Her accusation from last night continued to torture me, “You rejected me and refused to protect me.” I knew she hadn’t forgiven me for walking away from her all those years ago, but I longed for the opportunity to explain to her why. The mate bond in my chest that had burned with ecstasy when I’d held her in my arms last night told me that I could still mend things with her. Yet, with her growing unease, my own frustration mounted with other wonderings. Did she still hold it against me that I’d followed Magnus’s orders and tracked her? I’d told her that I wouldn’t tell Magnus anything about this place. Did she still not believe me? Despite these worries, whenever I focused on Betty, who was nestled comfortably between Lina and me, I felt bewilderingly soothed. Betty’s electric blue eyes, so uncannily similar to Lina’s but glassy from fever, held me captive. I couldn’t help but picture her in brighter circumstances, playing in a sunlit park with her aunt, laughter ringing from them.

Auntie Lina moved with a quiet efficiency. She tended to Betty’s fever, showing she was well-versed. She checked the girl’s temperature every half hour, her brow furrowing with concern each time. Today, Lina wore the most casual outfit I’d seen her in—a simple gray jumper that draped loosely over her slender figure and a fitted pair of black slacks. Her long golden hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, shimmering in the light as she shifted to adjust the blanket over Betty.

Sitting next to Betty, who insisted I read Swan Lake twice, I was swept into a daydream of what might have been—one in which Lina and I were parents together, caring for our child on a sunny afternoon. I found myself lost in this beautiful fantasy as Lina handed out juice and medicine, tending to Betty as if it was second nature.

A surge of protectiveness and yearning moved through me. Not just toward Lina but toward Betty. Why was I feeling like this? Was it because of Lina’s closeness to the little girl? Was it our mate bond giving me this warmth of feeling? I hadn’t felt instincts as strong as this since I’d been hell-bent on protecting my mother. The thought of her had the usual flash of regret and anger searing through me. I longed to talk to Lina about how I felt. Were her feelings for me as strong as this? I glanced over at her, but once again, she averted her gaze to Betty, fussing over her blanket. She definitely seemed to get edgy whenever I paid her attention.

---