Filed to story: The Alpha’s Pen Pal Book
I’m only half aware of her, too wrapped in my torment, my suffering, to care what the rejection is doing to her. She could have been my everything. I would have made her my world. But now, she is little more than dust lurking beneath the couch.
Through blurred vision, I see her stumble towards the door and out of the room. It slams against the wall, then begins to swing shut on its self-closing hinges.
I swallow and growl, clenching my fists and pulling myself inch by immeasurable, agonizing inch across the carpet to the entrance of the room, sticking my hand between the frame and the door before it can close. I welcome the physical pain of the door hitting my forearm. It cuts into my flesh, drawing blood. I shout from the impact, but it’s a welcome distraction from the emotional anguish wreaking havoc on my body and my soul.
“Wes… help me…”
I say, reaching out to my best friend through our pack mindlink with the last ounce of energy and strength I have before I succumb to the pain.
NOLAN
SEVEN YEARS LATER
Wake up. Eat breakfast.
Go on a run. Take a shower. That’s been my daily routine for the last almost seven years. It’s repetitive and monotonous, but it’s predictable and stable. And that predictability and stability is what got me through the darkest days of my life. The days following Kimberly’s rejection. That, and Wesley, who was the one forcing me to get up, eat breakfast, go for a run, and take a shower.
The routine started at his prodding and insistence that I find something to do and focus on, something to get me out of bed in the morning and work off the pain and misery of losing my mate bond. But gradually it morphed from something I did because someone told me to, to something I did because I wanted to and needed to. And now I thrive on the predictable routine.
Tiny claws scrape on the cement behind me, and I whip my head around to find Cavalier, the almost one-year-old husky-wolf hybrid puppy Wesley adopted in the fall, trotting along behind me, wearing that ridiculous light purple tutu Maya made from Luna Haven’s Lilac Fairy costume when Wesley brought him home.
It’s beyond me how he hasn’t destroyed it yet, what with all the roughhousing he does with the pack pups and the times he just disappears into the forest for hours on end before returning at the most random of times in the unlikeliest of places. I’m not convinced Maya, being a hybrid, didn’t put some sort of spell on the tutu to keep it intact and pristine.
It’s been close to six months since Wesley adopted him, bringing him into the pack to help cheer Haven up the same day she announced her pregnancy to him, and he’s blended into our lives seamlessly. He treats Haven the same as any of our pack members—with love and respect—and checks on the pup in her belly with his nose every time she comes home from her ballet rehearsals. And he’s taken a shine to me too, joining me on my daily run for several months now, as well as showing up unannounced at my house when Haven and Wes are off territory and he’s lonely. I think he recognizes me as his luna’s protector and, therefore, has adopted me as a sort of second family.
“What’s up, Cav?” I ask, pausing my run with my hands on my hips.
He stops, too, a few feet away from me, cocking his head to the side and staring at me with his tongue lolling out. His tail wags as he waits, playing the little game of ours we’ve played every morning since just after the new year, looking way too fucking ridiculous and yet somehow equally adorable in his tutu.
“Let’s go, little guy,” I say, waving him forward to run at my side.
A little guy he is not, but the nickname has stuck ever since Wesley heard Haven call him that.
Cav jumps playfully on his front paws, then bolts forward, sprinting ahead of me like a bullet train, streamlining his body for speed. I chase after him, and he slows down when I reach him. We jog side by side, both of us enjoying the temperate morning air.
Spring has arrived in full force at Crescent Lake. The mornings are warm and the days are warmer, melting away all traces of the small amounts of snow we received this year. Bees buzz around the flowers in the garden and the wildflowers growing around the lake and up the mountain, and the chirping of freshly hatched baby birds echoes around the forest. The pups are rowdy and antsy for the long summer nights we’ll have here in a few months, and everyone is ready for the annual spring festival coming up soon.
The humongous stretch of green training fields comes into sight, dotted with sparring and training warriors, all overseen by Sebastian and Reid—who are now our delta and beta, respectively—and a baby wrapped against Reid’s chest.
I lift my hand in greeting to them as Cav and I run over to the water jugs, and I grab a quick drink and catch my breath, watching the warriors as they work out. Sebastian and Reid both wear almost matching stern scowls, a mask they’ve both perfected over the years they’ve been overseeing the warrior trainings. But Reid’s is hard to take seriously when Savannah is in his arms, her little chubby baby hands curled under her cheek as she sleeps against his chest, and he occasionally ducks his chin to kiss the top of her head. I chuckle and shake my head, lips twitching as I chug the rest of my water and make my way over to him, Cav on my heels.
“Why do you have a baby in a wrap at a warrior training?” I ask, standing beside him and surveying the warriors under his watch.
“Why is the tutu-wearing wolf following you around?” he retorts, eyes flicking down to said tutu-wearing wolf.
I shrug. “Cav keeps me company.”
“She’s keeping me company,” he echoes back. “And my dad has a video appointment with his therapist, so he couldn’t watch her today. Not that I mind getting extra Sour Patch snuggles.”
“How is your dad?”
“He’s better. He still has rough days. Nothing like before, though. He asks for help now when he knows he can’t cope.”
I nod. “He does seem more like his old self. Like how he was before your mom died.”
Reid nods too, his hand idly stroking Savvy’s back as she snoozes, his eyes flicking to his mate, Taryn, where she practices her hits and kicks against a training dummy. Even at almost six months pregnant, her bump isn’t a hindrance. Her skills are still top-notch, honed by years of self-disciplined training and refined with the help of Reid after they met over a year ago. She finishes the round of exercises and grabs her water bottle, waving at us.
“Nice work, Cadet! Go ahead and take a lap!” Reid calls to her, his hands covering Savvy’s ears so he won’t wake her. Taryn smiles at him and turns around, heading towards the edge of the field to start her run. Reid’s eyes linger on her, the bright blue of them glittering with pride, and he leans over to me, talking out of the corner of his mouth so he doesn’t have to take his eyes off of her. “I’m totally tapping that later.”
He bites his lip and wiggles his brows, and I throw my head back and howl with laughter. “And people are surprised Taryn is already knocked up again.”
Reid’s nose wrinkles, and he finally breaks his staring contest with Taryn’s butt. “Who is surprised?”
“No one is actually surprised. I just meant… never mind.” I glance at my watch and then clap him on the shoulder. “I’ve gotta get home and shower. I’ll see you later.”
“Does Haven have rehearsal today?” he asks as I walk away.
I pause my steps and shake my head. “No, she has an appointment. I took the day off from everything else as well, so I can drive Rachel back to the airport.”
His brows pinch together. “I feel like a broken record when I ask this, but I thought you two ended things when she moved away?”
“We… did…”
“You ended things—mutually, so says you—and yet you drive her from and to the airport and fuck her every time she visits?”
I bristle and cross my arms, immediately getting defensive. “I don’t fuck her every time she visits.”
That’s a lie. We totally sleep together every time she visits. She’s literally asleep, naked, in my bed as I stand here speaking to him. But I don’t need to confess that to him.
And I’m not even going to touch on the “mutually” part of his sentence. Because that’s one of the biggest lies I’ve told everyone since the day she flew across the country and left me behind. Unless by “mutual” he means she said “I’m moving” and I let her walk away without trying to convince her to stay. Then yes, I guess you could say it was mutual.
Reid raised a brow. “Who are you trying to convince?”
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?