Page 20 of Broken Pregnant Mate
But then, once again, nothing happens. The wind continues to howl outside, and Aidan stays firmly on his side of the door. He’s probably fast asleep on the couch, not even thinking about me.
Scrubbing my hands over my face, I turn over, feeling around on his nightstand until I find what I’m looking for—it’s the book he had open on the kitchen table.
A Complete Guide to Pack Leadership, for aspiring alpha leaders. Not my usual preference for reading, but I need something to take my mind off of everything.
More specifically, I need something to take my mind off the man just feet from me, his warm body emanating the scent that’s all around me, but unavailable to me.
Knowing I won’t be able to sleep any time soon, I flip on the lamp, open the book, and start reading.
Chapter 9 - Aidan
Emaline stands at the end of the couch, wearing something blush pink and delicate, the hem of a sheer little dress brushing over her thighs. I don’t know the name for it, but it makes my mouth water, the stretch of the lace over her hips, the barely-there dress only just covering it, leaving her skin slightly revealed to me.
And she smells so fucking good, like the very center of a blooming flower.
“Aidan,” she says, leaning forward, her hand soft when it cups my cheek. “Would you carry me to bed?”
I’d carry her to the ends of the fucking continent.
I’m standing, picking her up in my arms bridal style, knowing I’m about to take her to my bed and peel this lace from her body, but something is off—something isn’t quite right.
Emaline dissolves in my arms, and I realize what it is as I wake up, once again standing in the center of my living room, just paces from the door to my bedroom.
“Fuck,” I whisper under my breath, already feeling tired from the lack of sleep. This feels like the hundredth time I’ve woken up tonight, my feet carrying me halfway to the bedroom, thoughts only on Emaline in that bed, sleeping in my sheets, wearing my fucking T-shirt.
Except it’s not night anymore, I realize, blinking and glancing over at the window—the sun is shining, birds are chirping outside, and the storm has finally calmed down.
It’s also not just the birds singing. Faintly, on the other side of the bedroom door, I make out the sound of the attachedbathroom’s shower running, soft, delicate sounds floating out into the space.
Emaline is in my shower. And she’s singing.
Cursing again under my breath, I realize what it was that woke me up out of my sleep—I can smell her. Specifically, I can smell that her heat is coming, getting stronger.
I force myself to back up, to plant my ass on the couch so I won’t go to her. The last thing either of us needs is for me to be near her right now, while she’s in the shower, naked, water running over her body, her heat on the horizon.
Just the thought of it makes my mouth go dry with need.
We grew up together, so this won’t be the first time I’ve been around Emaline during her heat, but this is the first time it will be happening in an enclosed space, just the two of us alone, and as full adults.
As a teen, I’d just stayed out of the house more, embarrassed by the way I felt more than anything. I’d bring Emaline little gifts, not fully understanding what she was going through, but knowing it was hard.
Knowing the matron of the house called herdisgusting, said omegas were alwaysstinking up the house.There was one house manager who locked omegas in a room for their heat, sometimes forgetting to bring them food or water.
So I’m no stranger to Emaline in heat, but this is different.
Especially after kissing her, tasting her, feeling the way her body would melt against mine. Emalineismy mate, and I had never intended to admit that to a soul on the planet. At least, not until Jerrod Blacklock was dealt with.
Hopefully Vern didn’t get a clear read on who I was, or he’ll have quite a lot to report back to Blacklock. And the fucker will have a brand new way to get back at me—through Emaline.
That’s why, even though Dorian and the guys think Emaline is my mate, I can’t admit it to her. I can’t claim her, can’t tie her to me. Because if something happens? If we’ve already claimed one another and I’ve made my mark on her?
She might never recover from it.
Besides, Emaline is likely still mad at me for leaving her. And, while I had my reasons, that’s something I get—I’d be pissed at her if she had left me behind, too.
Emaline is a perfect woman, and I’m not good enough for her. My life is fucked, and has been from the day I was born. She deserves to be with someone who can give her stability and give her a life free from threats and danger.
And that person isn’t me.
