Page 28 of Whisper of an Alpha
As I rinse my mouth and splash water on my face, I catch a glimpse of my reflection. The woman looking back at me is a stranger — lost and fragile, with an edge of defiance. I know I need to be strong, but strength feels elusive today.
I finish up and step back into the bedroom, where Wyatt is now dressed in a fitted hunter green henley and jeans that cling to his athletic frame. He looks ready to take on the world, but I feel like I’m crumbling beneath the weight of my feelings.
“Ready?” he asks, his tone a mixture of hope and uncertainty.
I nod, though uncertainty grips my heart. We step out into the hallway together, the distance between us palpable. I can feel the unspoken tension hanging in the air, thick and heavy. I need to be strong like Poppy said. I can do this… right?
As we walk down to the kitchen, my mind races with thoughts. How can I face Rachel? What if she tries to pull Wyatt back into her orbit? I glance at him, his expression focused ahead, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking about her too.
The kitchen door swings open, and the rich aroma of freshly baked cakes wafts through the air, momentarily distracting me from my spiraling thoughts. The sight of the beautiful table set for the cake tasting takes my breath away. Layers of decadent flavors and intricate designs await us, a celebration of my Luna Ceremony that feels tainted by the reality of our situation.
Dalton is already there, his easy smile lighting up the room. “Hey, you two! Ready to make some tough decisions?” He gestures to the array of cakes, each one more stunning than the last.
“Sure,” I say, forcing a smile as I step further into the kitchen. It feels like a performance, but I can’t let anyone see the cracks forming beneath my façade.
Wyatt stands beside me, and I can feel the warmth radiating from him, a reminder of everything we’ve built together. I need to hold on to that warmth, even as I prepare for the inevitable confrontation that awaits.
“Let’s get started,” I say, trying to sound enthusiastic, though my heart is still heavy. We gather around the table, the tension simmering just beneath the surface, ready to erupt at any moment.
As we taste the cakes, I try to focus on the flavors, the textures, the beauty of the moment. But my mind keeps drifting back to Rachel. The door swings open again, and my heart skips a beat as she walks in, her presence instantly altering the atmosphere.
“Sorry I’m late!” Rachel exclaims, her voice bright as she glances around the kitchen. “I hope I didn’t miss anything too important.”
I can feel Wyatt’s eyes on me, but I refuse to look at him. Instead, I fix my gaze on Rachel, trying to decipher her intentions. She seems genuinely cheerful, but I can’t shake the feeling that her happiness is a mask, hiding something deeper.
“Tavia and Alpha Wyatt just came in,” Dalton replies, his voice cheerful. “We’re just about to start tasting the cakes.”
Rachel steps closer, her eyes landing on Wyatt. “I can’t wait to see what you pick Wyatt! This is such an exciting time for you.”
“Yeah,” I say, forcing the word out through clenched teeth. The excitement feels foreign, like a cruel joke, and the tension in the room thickens.
As we begin tasting the cakes, I can feel the weight of Rachel’s gaze lingering on Wyatt, and a primal instinct rises within me. Ican’t let her charm him; I can’t let her weave her way back into his life.
“Wyatt, what do you think of this one?” she asks, leaning over the table, her voice honeyed and inviting. “I think it really captures the essence of a Luna Ceremony. It’s what I would pick.”
I watch as Wyatt turns toward her, his expression thoughtful. “It’s good,” he replies, his tone neutral. “But I think Octavia has some ideas of her own. What do you think, Gorgeous?”
I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. “I have plenty of ideas,” I say, trying to inject some confidence into my voice. “I just think we should focus on what feels right for us.”
Rachel nods, but her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course. It’s your day, not mine, after all.”
The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken tension. I can see Dalton shifting nervously, his gaze darting between the three of us. He’s probably sensing the undercurrents of conflict and trying to diffuse the situation.
As we taste another cake, I can’t shake the feeling that Rachel is waiting for the right moment to pounce. I glance at Wyatt, whose brow is furrowed in concentration, and I wonder if he’s aware of the storm brewing around us.
“Okay, let’s take a quick break,” Dalton suggests, sensing the unease. “How about some coffee? We can come back to the tasting in a few minutes.”
I nod, grateful for the reprieve. I need a moment to gather my thoughts, to fortify myself against the uncertainty that looms ahead. As we step away from the table, I can feel Rachel’s eyes on me, and I brace myself for the confrontation I know is coming.
“Octavia,” Rachel begins, her tone deceptively sweet. “I know things are complicated right now, but I hope you know that I’m not trying to come between you two.”
I can’t help it; my heart races with indignation. “It certainly feels that way,” I reply, my voice sharp.
Her expression falters, but she quickly regains her composure. “I understand this is hard, but I genuinely want what’s best for Wyatt. He deserves happiness.”
The words hang in the air, taunting me. “What makes you think he’ll find happiness with you?” I shoot back, unable to contain my frustration.
Rachel’s eyes flash with something — defiance, maybe. “Because I’m carrying his child, Octavia. I’m giving him a future, an heir.”
