Pregnant And Rejected By My Alpha Mate: Part 1
: Chapter 30

Bastien’s POV

I barely recognize my mother. Her once glowing skin is pallid and gray, her usually bright eyes are dull and glassy, and even her hair seems to be losing its color. She’s barely left her room since my father died, staying in bed all day and hugging his pillow as she cries.

As distant as Selene has been lately, she seems equally concerned about my mother’s health, now hovering beside me outside the master bedroom and peeking worriedly through the gap in the door.

“You have to talk to her.” She urges.

“And say what?” I counter helplessly.

Selene’s two-toned eyes cut to me. “She needs a reason to go on without Gabriel.” She proclaims. “To be reminded of how much she still has to live for.”

My head shakes back and forth. “She’s lost everything.”

“Not everything.” My wife says pointedly. “If there’s one force on this earth stronger than love for a mate, it’s love for a child.” She nudges me toward the door, “If her purpose as a mother can’t pull her through, nothing will.”

Utterly dejected, I drag my hand over my face. “But she doesn’t want to pull through.”

Selene cocks her head to the side, waves of long, dark hair streaming over her shoulder. “You’re the one who’s always saying being an Alpha is about giving people what they need, even and especially when they don’t want it.” She emphasizes. “Odette isn’t in any state of mind to know what she wants right now.”

Everything she says makes sense, but none of her logic or encouraging words can budge the tangle of guilt lodged in my chest. It shackles me as completely as any irons. “It feels selfish to keep her here when she wants to be with him.” I admit, the irony of our situation taunting me mercilessly. It used to be that there was only one woman I was forcing to stay with me. Now she herself is campaigning for me to do the same to another.

“And what would your father have to say about it?” Selene inquires, a hard edge in her sweet voice. “Do you think he would want you to stand by and let her waste away? Do you think letting her suffer and die is somehow more humane than helping her live, or that he would forgive you for letting her go when you still need her so badly?”

The truth of her words shines through clear as day: my father would never forgive me if I let mom throw her life away for him. He would probably haunt me to the edge of madness, then greet me with more punishments when I join him in the otherworld.

Without another word, I carefully push the door open and quietly approach the bed. “How are you feeling today, Mom?”

She doesn’t answer, instead burying her face deeper in the pillow to breathe in my father’s lingering scent. She frowns when I open the drawn curtains and sunlight pours into the dark room, but she does not speak.

My mother has always been a force of nature: strong and composed, intimidating and poised in equal measure. Seeing her brought so low is painful, and I wish I’d inherited more of her traits than my father’s. She always knows exactly what to say, even in the worst of times.

“I was hoping I might persuade you to come have dinner with Selene and me.” I propose gently. When she only gives me a blank look in response, I press. “There are some things I’d like to talk about, I… I need your help, Mom.”

A flicker of concern filters through the hollow well of pain in her eyes, though still she does not speak.

“I don’t know what to do about the Pack.” I breathe, feeling a slight weight lift from my shoulders by virtue of simply speaking the words aloud. “I always thought Dad would be here to guide me when I took over. He prepared me for war, for crises and natural disasters, but he never prepared me to face it all alone.”

My throat tightens. “Everything feels like it’s falling apart.” I confess. “Every time I think I’ve got a handle on a problem, something else comes along and sweeps the rug out from under me.”

And the pain is only going to keep coming, Axel growls. Do you really think you can survive losing Selene on top of everything else?

Not now. I bite back, in no mood for my wolf’s continued pressure to claim my mate before she can reject me.

Mom is sitting up now, leaning against my side with comforting warmth – though I’m not sure if this was her intention, or if she’s simply too weak to hold herself upright. “You helped dad lead the pack for 30 years,” My hand dwarfs hers as I squeeze her bony fingers. “You have experience and insight I don’t. Please say you’ll help me.”

The limp hand beneath mine twitches, then slowly turns over to return my squeeze. “I know what you’re doing.” She scolds without conviction. Smiling tremulously, she adds, “What kind of mother would I be if I refused you?”

“A very, very bad one.” I tease.

A noise somewhere between a hiccup and a sob escapes her lips, “Of course I’ll help you.”

_________________

It seems no matter how small the victory, none can stand in this horrible new world order. No sooner had I eased my immediate concerns for my mother’s state of mind, than a new disaster unfolded. I was on my way back to my office from mom’s bedroom, when Aiden’s voice burst to life in my head. We have a problem.

Stopping in my tracks, I braced myself for the inevitable. Tell me.

A patrolling enforcer found Arabella’s car abandoned down by the lake. He relayed. The scene appears to indicate foul play. All her belongings were still there, the doors open and signs of a struggle… blood on the seat.

What?! I thunder internally, my heart struggling to beat.

You need to get down here – now. Aiden answers. By the marina. We’re not going to be able to keep this quiet for long.

I’m on my way.

From there I stormed back to the top-floor apartment, gathering up a very confused Selene and sequestering her and mom in a secure room with four of my most trusted guards. The emergency plan has been in place since the morning after my father died. I was prepared for another attack on the family, especially one targeting my wife and mother, but I never even considered Arabella.

I can’t believe how stupid I was. Of anyone, Arabella is the easiest target to reach: she doesn’t live at the pack house and doesn’t have a standing guard, and everyone knows how important she is to me.

If she dies I’ll only have myself to blame. As if it wasn’t bad enough that I killed my best friend, now I’m going to have his baby sister’s murder on my conscience too.

Goddess, I hope I’m not too late.

_____________________

If I go the rest of my life without walking into another crime scene, it won’t be soon enough. The sight of yellow caution tape and evidence markers is becoming so familiar to me they’re beginning to lose their shock value.

Unlike her car, which looked like the site of a bar room brawl, Arabella’s apartment seems completely untouched. Her furniture is upright and her belongings tidy, all surfaces clear and clean. If it weren’t for the dishes in the sink, it would almost look unlived in.

“Anything look out of place?” One of the investigators is asking.

I rub my jaw, “I haven’t been here in a long time, I don’t think I would be able to tell if it was.”

The enforcer’s eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t share his thoughts. Not having any patience for withholding, I infuse pure dominance into my tone, “You doubt my honesty?”

“No Alpha!” He insists instantly, shrinking in on himself.

“Then what?” I demand.

If he were in wolf form his tail would be between his legs. “It’s just that the word around the pack is that Ms. Winters is your mistress.”

“Excuse me?” I snarl, my fangs elongating.

“We all thought that’s why you’re rejecting Mrs. Durand.” The man’s partner speaks up, redirecting some of my ire onto himself.

It’s no surprise that the pack gossips, and knowing our history, the theory even makes sense. However the idea that such vicious lies have been circulating around my mate makes my blood run cold. I’d like to replace the person who came up with the story and rip them apart – very slowly.

“I assure you, you’ve been misinformed.” I growl.

The lead investigator clears his throat, “Then this may be difficult to explain.” He says, holding out a piece of stationary.

I snatch the paper from his hand, my eyes flying over the page with increasing disbelief. There, clearly scrawled in Selene’s handwriting, is the message:

This is your final warning. If you want to live, stay the hell away from my husband. I will know if you see him, and you will pay.

– Selene