Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
I blow out a sigh and shake my head, gritting my teeth together, but I let it go. Because she’s right. Pushing him now will only make it worse. He needs to see for himself that he’s wrong. Me yelling at him won’t change his mind.
“We respect your decision,” Taryn says, turning her eyes on him. “And if you ever change your mind, we’ll respect that decision, too.”
He nods, his thumb rubbing at his lower eyelids. “Thank you.”
“Do you still have your phone?” she asks.
“King Malachi ordered me a new one.”
She nods, then holds her hand out to me, asking for mine.
Fuck. I still need to buy her a new phone.
I yank mine out of my jeans and hand it to her. Her lips twitch and her brows raise, her eyes sliding to me as she glimpses the picture on my lock screen, the picture Seb took of the two of us when we had our accidental sleepover. She gives me a subtle shake of her head and an eye roll, then taps away at my phone, sending off a scan of Sour Patch’s ultrasound image to what I assume is Dominic’s number.
“We’ll send you pictures of her as she grows,” Taryn says, handing me my phone as Dominic’s pings in his pocket. “You don’t ever have to contact her if you don’t want to, but you should at least get to watch her grow up.”
He takes his phone out and unlocks it, staring at the screen, his eyes watering until the tears are uncontainable and they spill over the edge of his eyelids.
Taryn swallows and stands, walking to the door, and I follow her, my hand moving to the small of her back, my body positioned so I can protect her at a moment’s notice. Dominic’s phone clatters on the table, and I turn to look at him. The last thing I see before the door closes is Dominic with his head in his hands again, his shoulders shaking and his body trembling with silent sobs.
TARYNSEVEN
MONTHS
LATER
—
JULY 21st
After a grueling twenty-two hours of labor, our Sour Patch was born at home at 4:31 a.m. on July 21st.
Reid was the perfect partner and father through my entire pregnancy and birth. He brought me breakfast in bed when I was too exhausted to get up, and he held my hair back on the rare occasion morning sickness hit me. He put together every piece of furniture in the nursery and the cradle that now sits in the sitting area of our room. He held my hand and coached me through every contraction, rubbing my back and caressing my belly, sending me every ounce of love he has for me as I worked my ass off to deliver our pup.
And now, he’s standing in front of the window, framed by the light from the early morning sun. He holds our sleeping daughter in his arms, his face ducked close to hers as he tells her about Crescent Lake, about the moon goddess, and about all the things he’s going to teach her as she grows up. I relax against the feather pillows, with a smile on my face and light in my heart as I watch him turn into mush with our hours-old baby girl. Her dark tufts of downy curls peek out from the top of her pink swaddle, and Reid kisses the top of her head, pressing his nose into the curls to breathe in her scent.
My wolf pushes forward, perked up by his display of affection and possession of our pup, of his physical manifestation of the verbal promise he made to me all those months ago when he learned I was pregnant—that he would love this pup as if it were his own.
And he does.
I smile and his eyes lift to meet mine, bright and joyful, and still bearing the evidence of the tears he shed when she entered this world with a sharp wail, making her presence known without hesitation. “You should sleep too,” he says, making his way over to me. “You deserve the rest. I can wake you up when she needs to eat.”
“I’m sure I’ll hear her,” I say, chuckling.
He perches on the mattress next to me, and I sit up and rest my chin on his shoulder, peeking at our bundle of joy in his arms. Her lashes rest on her perfect chubby cheeks, and her tiny lips form an adorable little bow. I breathe in, taking in Reid’s Christmas and cookie scent, and her sweet springtime blossom scent.
“I wonder if she’ll like cookies,” Reid muses, still smiling down at her.
“With you as her father? It would be a crime if she didn’t.”
“What kind do you think will be her favorite?”
“All of them,” I say.
“Except cookies with raisins,” he says, wrinkling his nose and gagging. “Whoever came up with that idea needs to be fined.”
I laugh at him and shake my head, a yawn forcing its way out of my mouth. My body collapses back against the pillows again, and I cover my mouth as the yawn extends and widens, scrunching up my cheeks, nose, and eyes.
My eyes fall closed, and I settle further into the downy softness of our bed, my breaths growing deeper and slower as I drift off to sleep to the sound of Reid singing quietly to our pup, singing something that sounds suspiciously like “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart.”
In my half-asleep state I smile, my mind floating back to that night at the bar, the night he told me he was all in, when he told me without telling me what I was to him. I realize that, now, now that it’s after the fact and I know the truth. Every word, every gesture, every action and reaction from him that night was all his way of staking his claim in the only way he thought he could at the time. And as mad as I was at him for lying to me for all those weeks, I wouldn’t change any of it. I wouldn’t change any of our story.
The wispy, floaty images of us singing and dancing our hearts out on the stage wither away into dust as the sharp ringing of Reid’s phone jerks me from my dreamy state. I frown in my sleep and burrow my face into the pillow as he answers.
“Hey,” he says, his voice as quiet as he can make it. “Thanks for calling.”
“Of course,” Dominic says, his voice also quiet but still detectable through the phone. “I called as soon as I saw your message.” I peek out through one eyelid to where Reid stands in front of the windows again, our girl in his arm, his hand holding his phone out in front of him so he can video chat with Dominic. “How is everyone?” he asks.
“We’re all fine,” Reid says, and I can hear the smile in his voice as he looks down at our pup. “Taryn’s asleep, though, so—“
“No,” I say, shaking my head and sitting up with a groan. “Taryn’s awake.”
Reid glances at me and I nod at him, letting him know he can move closer so we can all talk together.
“Did you see her yet?” I ask Dominic as Reid sits next to me and passes the baby to me.
“Just the picture Reid sent to let me know she was here and to tell me her name,” he says as Reid angles the phone to show her sweet little face. “Savannah, right?” he asks, glancing at me. “For your aunt?”
“Yeah,” I answer, smiling, watching his eyes immediately return to her face.
“It’s perfect,” he says, smiling at her with glassy eyes. “She looks like a Savvy.”
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?