I stretch, waking up to a bright morning, but I suddenly notice that my inner thighs are sticky.
“What the hell?” I mutter as I push the blanket off my body to investigate. Spreading my legs apart, I see that my pussy is also covered in something, and I feel a pleasant soreness in my vagina.
Panicking, I stand up from the bed and notice stains on the mattress. My head feels foggy, and I reach up to touch the diamond necklace still around my neck.
I must have passed out hard last night not to have taken it off before sleeping.
There’s a particular smell in the air, like sandalwood, and suddenly, a memory of my dream emerges. Gunnar sneaking into my bedroom last night comes to mind, and I blush, thinking of his wide tongue and the way he licked me clean after making me orgasm.
My pussy starts to throb, and my heart rate speeds up.
Wait, was that real? Or just a dream?
I glance over at my bedroom window, noticing it’s slightly ajar, and my heart races as I quickly close it.
Gunnar was here last night. It wasn’t a dream.
Now that I know for sure, I realize it must have been him and his pack following me around town this entire time. I need to move out of this state to escape because alphas never like to be rejected.
Hopping into the shower, I feel a little sad to wash off all the sticky residue from my legs and private parts. The memory of Gunnar eating me out last night makes me happy for some reason, even though I rejected him and his pack.
I want him, but I don’t at the same time.
Today has been a busy day of running errands.
The last chore was grocery shopping, especially since I needed to stock up on essential items like toiletries and cleaning supplies. Now that I’m back home, I’m exhausted and looking forward to putting my feet up on the couch with a good book once everything has been put away.
I unlock my apartment door and push it open with my shoulder, propping it open with the doorstop as I bend down to grab a few grocery bags.
The bags are heavy, and I set them down in the hallway when I notice that the glass door leading to my balcony is open.
Confusion washes over me as I stare at it. I don’t remember ever opening the balcony door.
Suddenly, I feel on edge, wondering if Gunnar or any of his packmates are back for me. An eerie sensation takes over, and I glance down at the scar on my arm, nervously running a finger along the puckered skin. The scar tissue occasionally tingles, as if my skin remembers how I got it, but this feels different.
It feels more visceral as if reacting to the air around me. I try to shrug it off.
I step toward the front door again to retrieve the rest of my groceries when a bang in the kitchen stops me in my tracks. I freeze, wondering what the noise could be. My heart races when I hear more noise coming from the kitchen.
There’s someone here.
I turn toward the kitchen and tiptoe in that direction, trying to stay as quiet as possible. At the doorway, I peek inside and see a tall figure wearing a dark trench coat rifling through my pantry. His back is turned to me.
I can’t see his face, but something about him causes my heart rate to spike. Suddenly, I turn and run out the front door, leaving my groceries strewn across the floor.
I don’t care about anything except getting away. I fly down the stairs, my heart pumping and breaths coming fast in panic.
My only goal is to get as far away from the building as possible.
I hear someone running behind me, but I don’t look back as I wrench open the main entrance door and dash into the daylight. In my haste, I forget about the two stairs leading up to the door and trip over my feet, tumbling down them and landing in a heap at the bottom.
“Ow!” I cry out, feeling pain shoot up my ankle as I land awkwardly on it. Tears prick my eyes when I try to stand, but it hurts too much to do more than balance precariously. I know it’s twisted, but the joint is already starting to swell and turn red.
I slump down again, ready to call for help or crawl away from the building. But when I look up to do just that, I see Damon standing over me, his face a picture of concern.
“Damon?” I ask tearfully, wondering what he’s doing here.
“Lena, darling, what have you done to yourself?” he asks, reaching down to help me.
I wave him away and try to stand up again. I can’t let him help me. I don’t even want him here.
“It’s nothing,” I say, struggling to my feet. “I just slipped, but I’m fine.”
My ankle gives out from underneath me, but before I can hit the ground again, Damon catches me in his arms, the scent of him reminding me of that fateful night.
The strange alpha who carried me in the rain. The alpha who took me to the hospital that night.
“You’re not fine,” he points out. “That ankle looks twisted.”
“It’s probably just a sprain,” I say breathlessly as I watch him examine my ankle. Damon prods my ankle gently, and I hiss in pain.
“We should get you to a hospital. Right away.”
“Damon, I’m fine— Oh!” I squeak in surprise when he scoops me into his arms and carries me to his car parked across the street.
I look back at my apartment building one last time before he places me gently inside the car, but I don’t see the mysterious figure again.
My heart is still racing, but I feel calmer knowing Damon is with me. He rounds the front of the car, gets into the driver’s seat, and starts the engine.
“What were you doing out there?” he asks as we pull away. Willowstone Hospital is about twenty-five minutes from where I stay, and I know he won’t stop asking questions until I give him an answer.
“I live there. I was bringing in groceries,” I reply, turning to look out the window. “You shouldn’t even know where I live!”
“Why were you running down the stairs like a ghost was chasing you?”
“So you weren’t the one in my kitchen?” I ask slowly.
He glances at me, a frown creasing his brows. “What do you mean?”
“There was someone in my apartment,” I whisper, anxiety clawing at my throat. “I was running away when I tripped and fell down the stairs in front of the building. I thought it was you.”
“Who do you think was in your apartment?” Damon asks, his voice turning serious as he focuses on the road.
Either he’s telling the truth or is a very good liar. But he is dressed differently from the person in my kitchen. Damon’s in a sharp suit while the person in my kitchen looked worse for wear.
“I have no idea,” I reply lightly. This is delicate territory. If Zorin found me, I’d have to sleep with one eye open.
“Well, it wasn’t me in your apartment,” he growls. “I’ve never been inside. Don’t worry. I’ll track him down and take care of it.”
“Wait, then, what were you doing outside my home?” I ask suspiciously, wincing from the pain. Being near him again sends my body into a frenzy.
Deep down, I’m longing for him to hug me and comfort me despite the throbbing in my ankle.
“To protect you.”
Warmth spreads through me at the thought of being shielded by this imposing alpha with a fierce expression.
My body tingles, but the pain in my ankle cuts through the moment, forcing me to focus on it and not fall in love right here and now.
“I don’t need your help finding whoever was in my apartment,” I say stubbornly.
A part of me still suspects it was him in my kitchen and that he jumped off the balcony to cut me off at the entrance to my building, throwing off his trench coat. It feels almost too convenient that he showed up at that moment, which makes me suspicious.
“Lena,” Damon growls, “I’m not taking no for an answer. Whoever was inside your home could be dangerous. You need protection, and my pack and I are the best for the job. I don’t care if you don’t want to be with us— we will keep you safe.”
“I’m not your omega, so I’m not your responsibility.”
“Yes, you are,” he replies, refusing to budge.
“Fine, wear yourself out,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest and turning back to the window. I don’t like it, but I’ll let it slide. If he wants to waste his time caring for me, that’s on him.
Twenty minutes later, we finally arrive at the hospital.
“Stay inside the car. I’ll help you,” Damon barks when I reach for the car door handle. I watch him walk around the car, clearly wary of my next move.
He opens the door, and I take his offered hand.
Once I’m out of the car, Damon scoops me up in his arms and carries me straight into the emergency room. In his arms, I can’t help but feel safe. His warmth seeps into my soul, invigorating me in a way I’ve never felt with my ex-alphas.
The waiting room is thankfully empty, and a nurse quickly triages me. I’m relieved because the pain in my ankle is worsening and has turned an ugly purple color.
“Miss Lena?” the nurse calls a few moments later, checking her clipboard before scanning the waiting room. Damon stands while holding me, and she smiles kindly when she spots us. “Doctor Roman will see you now.”
She wheels a wheelchair toward me, and Damon gently places me in it. The nurse pushes the wheelchair, and I have no idea if Damon is following behind us.
But as soon as we enter the room, Damon is there. He helps me onto the bed and settles into the chair in the corner. His knees are spread dominantly as if declaring that I’m his.
But I’m not his.
The nurse leaves after taking my vitals, and I turn to him.
“What are you doing?” I ask, panicking as he makes himself comfortable, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed.
“I’m staying with you,” he replies as if it’s obvious.
I shake my head. “That’s not necessary. You’ve done enough just getting me here.”
“Lena—”
“Please,” I beg. I’m embarrassed to be in this situation, and the fact that he won’t leave my side is making it worse. “I just really want some privacy. Today has been a lot. Thank you for all your help, but I’d prefer it if you left.”
He sighs and stands again, running a hand through his hair.
“All right,” he concedes, walking over to me and giving me a peck on the forehead. “I’ll be in the waiting room, but if you need anything, just call.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Damon makes it hard to think whenever he’s around. I can barely clear my head from everything that’s happening. Why was Damon at my apartment? And who the hell was that person in my kitchen?
I’m alone with my thoughts for only a moment when the doctor walks in shortly after Damon leaves.
“Hello, I’m Doctor Roman,” he says with a kind smile. He has a short grey beard and gentle brown eyes. “What can I do for you, Lena?”
I gesture toward my ankle sheepishly. “I think I’ve sprained my ankle. I was running and tripped down the stairs.”
“Hmm,” he hums, examining my ankle and gently pressing the swollen spot. “So it would seem. Before prescribing any medication, I need to take your urine sample.”
He helps me off the bed and into the en-suite bathroom, handing me a small cup before closing the door.
Hobbling to the toilet, I fill the cup, wash my hands, and then open the bathroom door, where Doctor Roman is waiting to help me back onto the exam bed.
“Thanks,” I say, grateful for his help.
“I’ll be right back,” he says with a smile before leaving the room.
My ankle throbs dully as I wait.
The only sounds in the emergency room are the steady rhythm of my heartbeat and the slight drip of the sink faucet in the bathroom. I clutch my ankle tightly, hoping it will help ease the pain.
Doctor Roman returns a few minutes later with some wrapping for my ankle.
“The lab tells me that you’re pregnant,” he says, and I freeze. “Are you aware of that fact?”
The world around me narrows until the only thing I see is the doctor with a smile on his face.
“I’m…what?” I ask in shock.
“You’re pregnant,” he replies cheerfully as he wraps my ankle. “I had to run a quick pregnancy test before I could prescribe painkillers. You only have a mild sprain, so an ACE bandage should do the trick. I recommend taking the pain medicine three times a day with meals. Be sure to keep your ankle elevated and apply ice to reduce swelling. Come see me if you still have issues in a few days.”
I’m barely listening to a word he’s saying as I contemplate the possibility of a baby.
What the hell does this mean for me?
I never intended to get pregnant, although after all the sex I’ve been having, it doesn’t come as a complete surprise. I place a hand over my belly and think of Damon.
What do I say to him? How will he react?
