The Alpha's Unwanted Plus-Size Bride 2: Alpha's Child, Human

Author’s Note to Readers

Welcome to Book 2 of the series!

If you are new to Elowen and Caelan’s story, this book is a direct sequel to Book 1 The Alpha's Unwanted Plus-Size Bride. To fully understand the deep-rooted angst, the history of their shattered bond, and how Elowen came to hide her pregnancy four years ago, I strongly recommend starting with Book 1 first!

Book 1 follows Elowen’s painful departure from the Royal Alpha Quarter, the secrets that drove a wedge between a human woman and her High Alpha, and the birth of little Briar.

If you have already read Book 1—welcome back! Book 2 picks up right in the aftermath of those lingering secrets, where Caelan is determined to claim what is his, the Grand Alpha Tribunal steps in, and the stakes for the Thorncroft Dominion reach a boiling point.

Thank you for reading, and enjoy the ride!

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“Where do you think you’re going, human parasite?”

Joyce stood at the archway of the Silvermoon Grand Healing Temple, her face twisted in absolute fury as she blocked my path. Two hulking enforcers from the Guardian Pack Command hovered at her shoulders, their muscles surging under their leather doublets. She pointed a trembling, manicured claw right at my chest. “You poured scalding wolfbane brew over my arm yesterday! Look at this skin! You scarred a noble daughter of the Ashbourne Pack!”

I stopped, my swollen ankle throbbing beneath my boots, though the silver-infused ointment Caius had slathered on it last night had already begun to dull the ache. Born without a wolf, I lacked the hyper-accelerated healing every true shapeshifter in the Moonfang Province took for granted. But what I lacked in bloodline gifts, I made up for in survival instincts.

“You tripped me on the marble concourse while I was carrying the sacred pack scrolls, Joyce,” I said, my voice steady, cutting straight through her dramatic display. “I gave you a choice. You chose to test me. Now get out of my way before I report your abuse of pack guards to the Grand Alpha Tribunal.”

“You useless little weakling!” She took a step toward me, her eyes flashing an amber threat as her inner beast clawed at her skin. “My father is the High Magistrate of the Moonfang Province! He commands three sub-packs in the northern territory. He can have your human blood spilled on these stones before noon and no one would even ask for an accounting!”

“Then he should focus on the border skirmishes with the Ravenspire Dominion instead of covering for his brat,” I countered, stepping closer so only she could hear my low, unyielding tone. “The Moonfang Province’s treasury has been hemorrhaging silver for three cycles under his administration. The Council is already whispering about stripped ranks. If I were you, I’d tell your father to start packing his den before the High Alpha demands an audit.”

Joyce gasped, her throat bobbing as her cheeks flushed dark red. She raised her hand, claws extending half an inch, ready to slash across my face.

Before she could strike, the heavy iron doors of the Healing Temple groaned open behind her.

“That’s enough, Ms. Ashbourne,” Caius Redfern called out sharply, striding past the stone pillars. He was in his full lodge manager attire, his posture stiff as he fixed the two Guardian Pack guards with a murderous glare. “Touch a worker on temple grounds again and I will personally have the Alpha Dominion District revoke your family’s sanctuary rights. Disappear. Now.”

Joyce sneered, retracting her claws with an enraged huff. “This isn’t over, Elowen! You’re just a human pet living on borrowed time!” She spun on her heel and marched down the stone steps, her two hulking guards falling in step behind her.

I let out a slow, measured breath, feeling the tense air ease out of my lungs.

Caius turned to me, his brow furrowed in concern as he looked down at my braced leg. “You shouldn’t be walking on that yet. A human ligament take weeks to mend, even with high-grade salve. Get in the carriage. I’m driving you back to the edge of the Frostfang Refuge.”

“I can manage the walk, Caius,” I said, though my body betrayed me with a sharp wince the second I put pressure on my heel.

“Get in the carriage, Elowen,” he grunted, holding the wooden door open. “Before I lift you in myself.”

I yielded with a tired sigh, climbing onto the leather bench inside. The wooden wheels creaked as the beasts pulled us onto the cobbled roads leading away from the temple district.

Silence stretched between us until Caius cleared his throat, keeping his eyes glued to the reins. “You and High Alpha Caelan Thorncroft... you know each other, don't you?”

My hands clamped tight over my lap. The mere sound of his name sent an icy shiver down my spine, waking up ghosts I had spent four long years burying in the dirt. “Do I look like the kind of human who dines with the dominant High Alpha of the Thorncroft Alpha Dominion?”

Caius thinned his lips, watching me from the corner of his eye. “He didn't take his eyes off you in the Great Hall earlier. Not once. His aura was so heavy it nearly forced half the lower-ranked wolves in the room to their knees. Whatever is between you two, it’s dangerous.”

I didn't answer. I just stared out the small glass window at the towering pines of the Frostfang Refuge rolling past us.

When the carriage finally pulled up to the gate of my secluded wooden cottage, my foot was so stiff I could barely stand. I dragged myself across the yard, collapsing straight into the worn wooden chair on the porch, exhausted to my very bones. I closed my eyes, letting the cool mountain wind wash over my face.

My mind drifted, unbidden, back to the nightmare that always haunted my sleep—the shadow of a lost pup, a tiny bond snapped before it could ever form, born too early in the cold stone chambers of the Royal Alpha Quarter. Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. I wiped them away fiercely with the back of my hand, splashing cold well water over my face from the basin beside the chair.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The heavy wood of the front gate rattled.

I wiped my wet eyes, forcing my spine straight as I limped over to unlatch the iron bolt. "Caius, I told you I'm fine—"

The words froze in my throat.

Standing in the frame, bathed in the dying golden light of the twin moons, was Caelan Thorncroft.

His massive frame filled the entire entrance. His pitch-black hair was windswept, his deep gray eyes burning with an intense, suffocating heat that made the hair on my arms stand up. His scent—crushed pine, ozone, and dominant Alpha musk—flooded my senses, thick and undeniable. His Adam’s apple worked hard as he looked down at me, his chest heaving as if he had run across the entire territory just to reach this door.

Before I could take a step back, his broad, calloused hand shot out, wrapping gently around my wrist.

“I can’t do it, Elowen,” Caelan rasped, his voice deep, gravelly, and laced with absolute desperation. “I tried to stay in the Royal Alpha Quarter. I tried to convince myself that letting a human go was the right choice for the pack. But your scent has been burning in my veins for four straight years. I can’t forget you. I can’t reject you.”

I stared at him, stunned.

This was not the cold, ruthless High Alpha who ruled the entire Thorncroft Bloodline with an iron fist. The Caelan I used to know never begged. He never admitted weakness.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat and pulled my wrist out of his grip, stepping back into the courtyard. “High Alpha Thorncroft. Please, take a seat,” I said, my voice smooth, polite, and completely devoid of warmth.

I wasn't terrified anymore. Four years living among the pine trees as an outsider had healed the raw, bleeding wounds he left behind. The bitterness that used to poison my blood had settled into static ash.

He stepped over the threshold, his towering frame making the small porch look tiny. He sat down on the heavy wooden bench, his eyes never leaving my face for a single second. I picked up a bowl of sweet winter-berries I had gathered from the woods yesterday and set them between us, acting like a proper host to a dangerous guest.

“They’re fresh from the northern bushes,” I said, offering a tight, hollow smile. “Try one.”

Caelan watched me, his dark eyes filled with a agonizing blend of hunger and remorse. He reached out with thick fingers, picked up a berry, and placed it in his mouth.

“It’s sweet,” he whispered softly, his voice rough.

“The soil here is rich,” I replied simply.

Before the silence could stretch any further, the outer gate swung open again. Caius walked into the yard, holding the hands of little Briar and young Ronan. The two five-year-old children were laughing, their small boots covered in mud from the riverbanks.

Caius stopped dead in his tracks the moment his eyes landed on the High Alpha sitting in my yard. As a beta-ranked wolf, his instinct kicked in immediately; he lowered his head in a swift, respectful bow. “High Alpha Thorncroft. Forgive the intrusion.”

“He is just visiting, Caius,” I interrupted smoothly, protecting his standing.

Caelan stood up, his massive shadow falling over the yard. His eyes tracked down to the two children standing by Caius’s legs.

Ronan was small for his age, his human-like frame fragile compared to the sturdy, thick-boned build of Briar, who already possessed the strong lineage of the Ashbourne bloodline. Caelan’s jaw clenched tight, his gray eyes darkening to a stormy black as he looked between Caius, the boy, and me. A dangerous, possessive growl vibrated deep within his chest.

“Mommy, I’m hungry!” Briar piped up, completely oblivious to the lethal tension suffocating the yard. She pointed a tiny finger at Caelan. “Who is the big scary wolf man?”

“Just an old acquaintance, sweetie,” I said gently, stepping between Caelan and the kids.

Ronan looked up at Caius and pulled on his tunic. “Daddy, can you make the roasted boar stew tonight? My leg hurts from running.”

The word Daddy hit the air like a thunderclap.

Caelan’s breath hitched violently. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides, his knuckles turning stark white as his true Alpha aura flared, threatening to crush the wooden fences around us.

Caius, oblivious to the secret history twisting between us, cleared his throat and offered a polite nod toward Caelan. “High Alpha, if you have not eaten, you are welcome to share our hearth tonight. We cook simple game from the Refuge, but it is hearty.”

“No,” I said quickly, but Caelan spoke right over me.

“I will stay,” Caelan gritted out through clenched teeth, his gaze locked onto mine with a terrifying, unyielding intensity.

I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second, hiding the pulse hammering in my neck. “Briar, Ronan, go to the back garden and wash the dirt off your hands. Don't fight over the water bucket.”

“Briar keeps taking my scoop!” Ronan complained, pouting as he dragged his feet.

“I only took it because you were dropping water everywhere!” Briar argued back, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the rear pump. “Come on, tiny, Mommy said no fighting!”

I watched them disappear around the corner of the house, the sound of their childish bickering cutting through the heavy, dangerous air.

When I turned back around, Caelan was standing less than an inch away from me. The heat radiating off his body was scorching, his scent overpowering every breath I tried to take.

“Are you happy here, Elowen?” he growled low, his fingers twitching as if fighting the urge to grab me and drag me back to his den. “Living in the dirt with a low-ranking lodge manager? Raising another wolf’s cub?”

I looked him straight in the eye, refusing to flinch under the weight of his terrifying Alpha presence.

“I am at peace, Caelan,” I said, every word dripping with cold, absolute truth. “These four years without the Thorncroft Pack, without your laws, and without your mate expectations have been the only real years of my life. In the Royal Alpha Quarter, I was dying. Here, I am human, and I am free.”

Pain flashed violently across his harsh features, replaced instantly by a raw, bleeding despair. “Can we not even be allies? A High Alpha and a human living under his protection?”

“You don't want an ally, Caelan. You want what you think belongs to you,” I replied quietly. “Go back to the Silvermoon Capital. Let the past stay buried in the snow.”

He stood there for a long, agonizing minute, the wind howling through the pine trees around us. Finally, he let out a low, ragged breath. “I will leave tonight. But the Thorncroft Bloodline does not abandon what is its own.”

He turned and strode out of the courtyard, his dark cloak billowing behind him as he vanished into the shadows of the forest.

I leaned against the wooden post of the porch, letting out a long, shuddering sigh.

A moment later, Osric Fenwick, Caelan’s chief enforcer, stepped silently out from the tree line. He walked up to the gate, carrying a heavy leather satchel bound with iron clasps. He didn't cross the threshold, remaining rigid and respectful.

“Ms. Whitlock,” Osric said, his voice deep and emotionless. “The High Alpha ordered me to leave this with you. It contains rare moon-blossom salves for your leg.”

“Take it back, Osric,” I said quietly. “I don't need his gifts.”

Osric thinned his lips, stepping forward to lay the satchel gently on the wooden fence post. “He waited four years to come here, Elowen. He knew where you were every single day. He stayed away because he knew you hated him. He thought if he gave you time, the wounds would heal and you would come home.”

A bitter, humorless laugh escaped my lips. “Tell your High Alpha that some wounds don't heal. They just turn into stone.”

Osric bowed his head, accepting my words without argument, and melted back into the dark woods.

The next morning, the sun barely crested over the peaks of the Frostfang Refuge when I hauled myself up. My ankle felt significantly better, enough for me to walk with only a slight limp. After dropping Briar and Ronan off at the Moonfang Academy Grounds, I made my way back toward the entrance of the Silvermoon Grand Healing Temple to finish my morning shift.

As I rounded the stone archway of the main plaza, three heavy, black iron carriages stamped with the royal crest of the Guardian Pack Command pulled to a sudden halt, blocking the road entirely.

The carriage door slammed open.

Joyce Ashbourne stepped out, but she wasn't alone this time. Standing beside her was a tall, imposing man adorned in the dark red robes of the Grand Alpha Tribunal—Edric Wulfric, the High Chancellor himself.

Joyce pointed a long, dagger-like finger straight at my face, a triumphant, wicked grin spreading across her lips.

“That’s her, Chancellor!” Joyce shrieked, her voice echoing across the crowded plaza. “That is the human who smuggled forbidden silver-weed into the Healing Temple and poisoned the elder wolves of the Ashbourne Pack!”

Two armored executioners stepped forward, drawing heavy silver chains from their belts that crackled with dark, anti-shift magic.

Edric Wulfric looked down at me with cold, lifeless eyes. “Elowen Whitlock. By order of the Grand Alpha Tribunal, you are under arrest for high treason against the shifter bloodlines. Seize her!”