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2025-07-08 03:33:14
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Fighting For The Alpha's Mark 121
SavannahThe air inside the estate had changed.It wasn’t loud... but it was there. The staff were disrespectful to me.It showed in the careless words, the lack of courtesy, like they were tolerating my presence until someone gave the final order to toss me out.Earlier, I’d walked into the west hall and overheard two maids arguing over towels. One of them muttered something about “the other woman.”I told myself it didn’t matter. I hadn’t come this far to be shaken by maids who thought loyalty meant bowing to whoever had the older bloodline.It was late afternoon when I saw Sasha. She sat outside, facing the pool, the wheels of her chair perfectly aligned with the edge of the stone path. Her legs were covered with a silk throw.She didn’t see me. Or maybe she did and was pretending not to.I should’ve turned away. Or waited for Xavier to come back before trying to make peace. But I didn’t. My feet moved before my logic could win.She didn’t flinch when I approached. Didn’t look up.
Fighting For The Alpha's Mark 120
SavannahI didn’t know why my palms were sweating. It was the kind of dread that clings to your skin. Earlier, Alpha Henry had his legs spread like the room belonged to him. Beatrice sat tall, like she was ready to step between a sword fight. Theo stared at the floor. Sasha was silent, her wheelchair turned slightly toward the window as if we didn’t matter.Xavier pulled out a chair for me. I sat, but I didn’t lean back. My spine stayed straight, palms flat on my thighs, like I needed to feel something solid under me. I told myself I was ready. That was a lie. I told myself maybe Sasha was done fighting. That was an even bigger lie.“I appreciate everyone being here,” Xavier said. His voice was calm. “I called this meeting because I want us to move forward. With clarity and respect.”But his wishes weren't granted, as Sasha was hell-bent on causing trouble.“I will not be divorcing you,” she said. Just like that. No hesitation, no preamble.She turned her head now, and her gaze locked
Fighting For The Alpha's Mark 119
SavannahTwo days later, Xavier handed me the clinic referral, slipping it across the breakfast table.“You should register here. It’s closer. New facility. Less waiting.”I didn’t argue. I was too tired. The pregnancy had gotten louder. The nausea came in unpredictable waves, and the smell of eggs now made me feel homicidal. I told him I’d go that day, and he nodded.The clinic was quiet when I first walked in. The doctor introduced himself as Dr. Aris Thorne—the kind of man who didn’t need to smile too much because his voice was already soft enough to put people at ease.Early thirties, handsome, and those intelligent eyes that flicked up whenever I paused, like he was measuring more than just symptoms.He asked the right questions. Didn’t interrupt. Didn’t flinch when I said “complicated pregnancy,” and didn’t blink twice at my last name. When I told him Xavier was the father, he nodded and moved on.I liked that.I didn’t mean to start trusting him. But the follow-up appointments
Fighting For The Alpha's Mark 118
SavannahIt was freezing. Not from the weather, just the kind of cold that gets under your skin when your nerves won’t sit still. I wrapped my coat tighter. Morning sickness, stress, rage all churned together like sour milk in my throat.Today was supposed to feel good. Payback. Closure. Whatever. Claire was finally in custody, locked in a holding cell under Alpha court authority. That was the only reason it happened this fast—she had messed with two Alpha houses. Xavier and Ethan. Even the council didn’t blink when she was arrested. When you frame an Alpha, especially for a scandal that risks inter-pack stability, you're not getting a slap on the wrist. You're getting a cell, and your trial happens before the ink on the complaint even dries.Still, I couldn’t stop shaking.One of Xavier’s men was driving us. Eve sat beside me, tapping something into her phone.“I swear,” Eve muttered, “If they let me get five minutes in that room, I’m giving that witch the kind of slap that rewires
Fighting For The Alpha's Mark 117
SavannahI woke up with my stomach doing slow backflips, the kind that didn’t even give me time to reach the toilet. My hands gripped the cold ceramic like I was holding on to shore. I breathed through the nausea. Nothing about this pregnancy felt manageable.Something fried drifted in from the hallway. Eggs or toast, probably. I gagged.“Jermaine, can you get me some cold water, please?”He came running, wide-eyed and shirtless, holding a plastic bottle with a bite mark on the cap. Jace was right behind him.“Is the baby sick too?” Jermaine asked, trying to make sense of adult problems.“No,” I said, pausing to take a sip. “Just me. I’ll be okay.”“Daddy will fix it.”The way he said it—so sure, like Xavier was some walking solution kit—made me smile.I leaned on the counter and wiped the back of my hand over my mouth.A month ago, they didn’t even know who their father was. Now they believed in him more than cartoons.My phone buzzed. I didn’t have the strength to guess who it was,
Fighting For The Alpha's Mark 116
SavannahI had been watching from the window long before they rang the bell. The physiotherapy team rolled in, wearing pressed uniforms. They always came in groups. I watched them unload the gear and found myself hoping this time it would stick.Maybe if Sasha started walking again, she'd stop throwing emotional grenades at me. Maybe half the bitterness had been hiding in her wheelchair all along.But I didn’t believe that. You can’t blame steel and rubber for a bitter heart.Through the glass, I spotted my mother pacing in Sasha’s wing. My dad was with me, scrolling on his phone, too focused to notice that his left thumb was twitching as he typed. He kept glancing toward Sasha’s corridor like he was expecting an alarm to go off.I leaned on the wall next to him. He didn’t look up.“Are you texting your soulmate?”He blinked and pulled his phone closer to his chest, like I was trying to snatch it. “Ha ha. Funny.”“Mmhmm.” I rocked back on my heels. “So... are we pretending again, or i
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