LOGINAliceI am inside the nursery, folding the last of the tiny black onesies I had specially stitched with the pack emblem at the corner. The room smells like fresh paint and baby powder, soft cream walls, dark wood crib, thick curtains to block the morning light. My hand lingers on the edge of the crib as I imagine placing my son in it. Our son. Reign’s son.My wolf stirs restlessly beneath my skin. I know I am close. My body feels heavier these days, my back aches if I stand too long, and sometimes the baby kicks so hard I curse under my breath and rub my belly until he settles.I am adjusting the small leather jacket Knox insisted on gifting the baby when the door bursts open.One of the maids rushes in, breathing hard, eyes wide. She almost trips over the rug before catching herself.“Luna,” she pants, bowing quickly, “Nova is in labor. They moved her to the clinic already.”For a second, I just stare at her.So it is happening.I nod once. “Alright.”The maid hesitates like she exp
RyderMonths pass, and the changes are undeniable. Nova’s belly grows alongside Alice’s. Alice has become more irritable lately, snapping at the smallest things. I want to touch her, to hold her close, but these days she flinches if I even graze her shoulder. She huffs, rolls her eyes, or mutters complaints under her breath. She’s a storm coiled in a human frame, and pregnancy only seems to have sharpened the edges.I stand outside the cabin where she’s pacing, arms crossed over my chest. Her feet kick at the gravel in a rhythm I can almost feel under my boots. “Alice,” I call quietly, “can I—”She spins on me, eyes flashing. “Can you what, Ryder? Touch me? Hug me? I’m fine. Really. I don’t need you hovering over me every second.”I take a slow step back, hands raised slightly in surrender. “I just thought maybe—”“Maybe what?” she cuts in, voice sharper now, “You thought I’d let you baby me again? I’m pregnant, not fragile.”I bite back the words that want to come out, the ones about
RyderI wake up before the sun fully rises, but I do not move immediately.Alice is curled against my side, one leg thrown over mine, her arm draped across my waist like she is afraid I might disappear if she loosens her grip. Her belly presses warm against my ribs, round and firm now at four months, and my hand is still resting there from last night. I feel a faint shift beneath my palm, a small movement that makes my chest tighten in a way I am still getting used to.She stirs when I adjust slightly, lashes fluttering before her eyes open halfway.“You’re leaving,” she murmurs, voice thick with sleep.“I have to check on patrol rotations,” I reply quietly, brushing my fingers through her hair.She frowns lightly and pulls me closer instead. “Five more minutes.”I huff a quiet laugh. “You said that yesterday.”“And you still left.”“I am Alpha,” I remind her gently.“You are also my husband,” she counters, nuzzling into my chest.Her clinginess has not eased since the fourth month hi
RyderAlice has been so clingy lately. Ever since the pregnancy hit the fourth month, she can’t seem to keep her hands off me. I wake up most mornings with her already pressed against my back, one arm slung over my waist, fingers tracing slow circles on my stomach. She’ll nuzzle into my neck, breath warm against my skin, and whisper things like “I need you” before I’m even fully awake. It’s like her body decided four months in that it wants me constantly, and I’m not complaining. Not even a little.Tonight is no different. We’re in bed early because she said she was tired, but the second the door closes she’s on me. She pushes me back against the pillows, climbs into my lap, straddles my thighs. Her belly is round now, noticeable under the loose shirt she’s wearing—my shirt, actually, one of the black ones she keeps stealing. It stretches tight over her bump, and fuck, seeing her like this does something to me every time.She leans in and kisses me hard, hands already tugging at my sh
AliceWeeks pass, and my body does not feel like it belongs entirely to me anymore.I wake up earlier than usual these days, not because of noise or duty, but because there is a restless energy beneath my skin. My wolf stretches inside me the moment my eyes open, stronger, heavier, more present than she has ever been. I sit up slowly on the edge of the bed, palm resting over my stomach, breathing through the faint pull low in my abdomen.Ryder stirs beside me. He does not sleep deeply anymore. The moment I shift, his arm slides across the sheets, reaching for me automatically.“You okay,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.“I am fine,” I reply quietly, glancing back at him.His eyes open fully then, sharp even in the early light. He pushes himself up on one elbow and studies my face like he expects to see something new every morning.“You sure,” he presses.I nod. “My wolf is just… loud.”A faint smirk touches his lips. “That is my pup in there.”I roll my eyes slightly. “Do not star
AliceI do not tell Ryder where I am going.He is busy barking orders in the courtyard, tightening borders like the walls of this place can protect him from his own past. Guards are doubling shifts, patrol bikes are lined up, radios crackle every few seconds with updates from the outer perimeter. The entire compound feels alert, stretched thin.Good.If Nova thinks she can shake this pack from the inside, she will learn quickly that I do not sit back and watch.I take a steady stride toward the underground wing alone. No escort. No announcement. The guards at the entrance stiffen when they see me.“Open it,” I instruct calmly.Mason hesitates for half a second, then nods and unlocks the heavy door. “Alpha did not mention a visit.”“I am not asking for permission,” I reply evenly.The door groans open, cool air brushing against my skin as I descend the concrete stairs. The sound of my boots echoes faintly, deliberate and measured. I do not rush. I want her to hear me coming.The corrid







