Chapter 7 The Alpha's Demand

(Kaleb)

She's pregnant.

My mind races, trying to find purchase on a logical thought. 

How is this possible?

A child of my blood, a child of my mate, cannot survive a formal rejection. The Goddess herself forbids it. The magic severs all ties. It's a spiritual and physical erasure.

The rejection I gave her was brutal. I felt the bond tear. I felt her tear.

It should have erased that child's existence in the same breath. It can’t be mine.

It's a simple, logical conclusion. A+B=C. It's not mine.

So why is my wolf trying to claw its way out of my chest?

It's screaming. A high-pitched, agonized, furious sound in my head. It's howling one word, over and over.

Mine. Mine. MINE.

I watch her. I can't stop watching her.

Rohan is at her side. He leans in, his hand on her back. Low on her back. Too low. It's a gesture that is proprietary. Possessive.

A white-hot rage, purer and cleaner than anything I've felt in months, surges through my veins.

This isn't the cold, hollow anger I've been living with. This isn't the vague irritation Madilyn has stirred in me.

This is primal. The child is mine. Charlie is mine. Rohan needs to get his fucking hands off what belongs to me.

"Kaleb, stop staring."

Madilyn's voice is a frantic whisper in my ear. Her nails are digging into my arm again. "It's obviously Rohan's. She's a whore, she—"

"Shut up," I snarl.

The words are out before I can stop them. I don't look at her. I don't even turn my head. My entire world has narrowed to one single point. Charlie.

Madilyn flinches, her hand falling from my arm as if she's been burned.

I can feel the Mark on my ribs itch.

I am going to cross this floor. I am going to stand in front of her. I am going to... I don't know what. But I'm going.

I take a step.

"If I may have your attention!"

Rohan's voice rings out, strong and confident. It cuts through the low din of the Conclave hall. Every head turns.

I stop.

He's not at Charlie's side anymore. He's stepped into the small, open space in the center of the floor, and he's looking right at her.

"What is he doing?" Madilyn whispers, her panic now palpable.

Rohan smiles. It's a smile of pure, triumphant love.

"Charlie, heir of the Silverwood Pack," he projects, his voice ringing with sincerity as he drops to one knee.

A collective gasp sucks the air from the room and my vision goes red at the edges. He’s not fucking proposing to my wife.

"You came home to us broken," Rohan says, his eyes never leaving her pale, stunned face. "And in the last six months, I’ve had the honor of watching you rebuild yourself. Not into the woman you once were, but into the Alpha you were always meant to be."

He fucking is.

"Be my wife," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "I want to spend my life with you. I want to be a father to your child, and for us to build a life together. Marry me, Charlie."

A father to your child.

My fucking child.

The words light a fuse in me and the rage is an explosion. I'm moving before I’m aware of it.

I'm not walking. I'm stalking. I'm an Alpha on his own warpath, and the crowd, Alphas, Betas, heirs, they all part for me. They scatter like prey.

"Kaleb, no!"

Madilyn grabs my arm, her grip like iron. "Kaleb, stop! Don't! Obey me!"

Her voice is a shriek, and beneath it, I hear her muttering. A desperate, sibilant chant. Siskara, amon, siskara...

She's trying to command me. I feel it. A faint, sickly, wrong pull in my gut, where the faded tattoo rests. It's trying to stop my feet. It feels like wading through wet cement.

A sound of pure, animalistic fury bursts out of me as I wrench my arm free.

The force of it is so violent, it sends her stumbling back into a table of drinks, then crashing to the floor in a spray of glass and ice.

I don't care. I don't look back.

I stop right in front of Charlie.

Rohan is still on one knee, his face hardening when he sees me, his hand already moving to stand, to protect what belongs to me. Alpha Marcus is roaring my name. I ignore it all.

I'm looking at Charlie.

Her face is white as a sheet, but her eyes... Goddess, her eyes. They aren't afraid. They aren't broken. They are pure, arctic ice.

The hall is dead silent. Every wolf in the room is frozen, holding their breath.

My voice is a low, dangerous growl. It's my Alpha voice, the one that shakes foundations, the one that demands truth.

"Is that child mine?"

Rohan is on his feet now, moving to stand between us, his hand on the hilt of a knife I didn't know he was carrying.

Charlie puts a hand on his chest. Stopping him in his tracks.

She takes one small step forward, closing the distance between us. She has to tilt her head back to look me in the eye, but she’s never looked more powerful.

That coldness in her gaze burns me. It shrivels the rage, leaving something hollow and aching in its place.

"No," she says.

Her voice is not a whisper. It's clear, sharp, and carries to every corner of the silent room.

"The baby is Rohan's."

She holds my gaze, her eyes never wavering, her face a mask of perfect, beautiful indifference.

"You and I share nothing."