Three Alphas and the Rogue Luna

Gemma’s POV

“Congratulations! The tests show that you’re pregnant!”

I straightened in my chair when the words reached me, and my fingers dug into the armrests as my heart plummeted into the pit of my stomach.

“That—That can’t be right,” I said, and the doctor’s smile widened as she shook her head. I noticed that her teeth were as white as her lab coat.

“Yes, it is, Gemma,” she answered, holding up a piece of paper and pointing at something. “Your bloodwork came in this morning and it’s all there. You’re four months pregnant, in fact.”

Four months. The number made me dizzy, and all of a sudden, I felt a surge of weakness hit and I sagged in my chair.

It felt like everything in the universe had come together to play this cruel trick on me, and as I watched her mouth move I felt a burning urge to call her out as a liar.

I wanted to protest, tell her that if I was actually pregnant, it would’ve been caught earlier.

Not after four months.

But admitting that would lead to a set of questions that I didn’t want to answer.

Besides, who could say that I didn’t already know? Especially since I had no memories of my life from two months ago.

I had woken up in a sterile hospital bed, connected to beeping heart monitors and when the face of a concerned nurse floated into view and she asked for my name, I opened my mouth without thinking and told her Gemma.

Then I quickly realized that I didn’t know my surname, or any other details about my life.

The terror must’ve become clear on my face at that moment, because the nurse quickly assured me that amnesia was a common side effect of shock, which was to be expected given the bad shape I had been found in.

“It’ll wear off in a few days, or weeks,” she said.

But it was two months down the line and I did not remember a single detail from my past life. Each time I tried, I picked up faint impressions and shapes, which earned me a splitting headache.

Eventually I gave up, and stopped trying to remember.

But now it looked like I would have to start trying again, because if the doctor’s words were correct, then I had already been pregnant for two months before the amnesia. Who was the father?

“I’m sure your mate will be happy to hear the news,” the doctor gushed. “Where is he?”

My thoughts came to a screeching halt at the question, which sounded outwardly harmless. In reality though, it was loaded.

The part of town I had found myself in was nicknamed Rogueland because it was home to a large community of wolves who had no Packs, and here being pregnant without a mate was a far too dangerous prospect.

I managed a nervous laugh and made up an excuse about my mate being on his work shift, and she nodded empathetically.

“I’m sure he’ll be over the moon when he finds out.”

I gave her a wide smile, even as the muscles of my stomach gripped with nausea.

The doctor made some prescriptions to help with the nausea and fatigue (which were the symptoms I had come in for in the first place) before sending me off, and I picked up the drugs before leaving the hospital in a daze.

I was pregnant, I thought, caressing my belly as I trekked the distance between the hospital and the diner I had now been working at for a month.

No matter how many times I turned the words over in my head, I couldn’t bring myself to believe them.

Luckily, the diner wasn't far away, and the smell of black coffee and scrambled eggs that greeted me as soon as I stepped in dragged me back into reality somewhat.

It was a small, fifties-themed space called Paula Eats, after the owner, Paula, and as I scurried through the packed space to the back to change into my work uniform, I felt my heart rate start to go down as rational thought started to creep in.

I had things to do, and the first on that list was breaking the news to Ian. My shift wasn’t set to start for another ten minutes, and so I pulled out my cellphone and scrolled to his name, biting my lip as I agonized over what to tell him.

Me: We need to talk.

I hit send without thinking, and then groaned over how ominous it sounded. He might read it and think that I was asking to break up.

So much had happened since I arrived at Rogueland, but the most important thing was Ian, who I met shortly before I started to work at the diner. We had only been dating a week, and I could say that it was the happiest one of my memorable life so far.

But we still hadn’t slept together… and I imagined that finding out your girlfriend was actually knocked up could sour a relationship quickly.

He was supposed to come with me to the hospital today, but something came up at his work place hence his absence. Looking back now, I was grateful that he didn’t come along.

Better he heard it from me, I thought. Ian deserved the truth, and even though I was fully prepared for our relationship to end, a part of me believed that that would not be the case.

I started to type.

Me: I’m pregnant.

I hit send before I could chicken out, then turned my phone off and slipped it into my locker.

At that moment the sound of footsteps clicking in filled the small locker room, and my coworker Karen stepped in.

Her lips flattened as soon as she saw me, and her eyes narrowed. Immediately, the atmosphere turned charged, and she began to open her mouth to say something—no doubt a cutting remark she had been working on through her shift that was designed just for me.

But I’d had a long day. I didn’t want to deal with her spite on top of everything else on my plate, and so I shot her a dazzling smile before quickly exiting the room.

I knew that this would only increase her hatred for me, and that she would find some way to make me pay for the ‘offense’, but I just couldn’t bring myself to care.

The diner was a bit fuller than it had been when I stepped in, which could only mean that the evening rush was about to happen.

I swallowed, smoothing the front of my apron to calm my nerves before letting myself fall into the flow of things.

The good thing about working at Paula Eats was that it was easy to shut my brain off and let my body fall into autopilot mode.

I wiped down grimy booths, took customer orders and relayed them to the chef, delivered trays filled with drinks and food to different tables, and so on. There was always something to do, and I was eager for the distraction.

While I was working, I overheard snatches of customer conversations. Usually, I wouldn’t have noticed it, but the news of some missing Luna who was being searched for by three Alphas was all anyone seemed to be able to talk about.

The details were sparse, which added to the mystery, and by the time I was two hours into my shift I had heard five different versions of the story.

Some women were chased by three powerful Alphas. And some women couldn’t even figure out who knocked them up.

The thought stung bitterly, but it was enough to take my mind off things, and even though I constantly thought of my phone in the locker room and Ian’s response to the bomb I had dropped, I also started to feel a sense of normalcy.

I began to convince myself that everything would be alright as I mopped up a coffee spill that a customer had made, and just when I was starting to believe it the bell above the diner door dinged as someone stepped inside and let out a catcall

The sound sent a cold shiver down my spine, and my grip on the mop handle tightened, but I continued to work slowly.

“Ignoring me now, doll face?” the catcaller said, addressing me. “That’s not very welcoming now, is it?”

Steeling my nerves, I turned around to face him, and tacked on a bright fake smile.

“I have a name, Cole,” I said, trying to keep my tone level as all conversations in the room hushed.

The man I spoke to shot me an oily smirk, which pulled on a jagged knife scar at the corner of his mouth and made him look more sinister than he already did.

“I don’t give a damn. Now, get me something to eat, doll face.”

Everyone knew Cole. More importantly, everyone knew to stay out of his way. He was a troublemaking rogue, notorious for the work he did for the Creek Shadow pack, who were known to partake in a large number of crimes.

He was involved in several missing persons investigations, but this was Rogueland, and having the unofficial backing of a Pack behind him meant he walked around like the unofficial king of the town.

If he were not a frequent customer at the diner I might never have run into him, but he was… and I tried to ignore how his visits always occurred on my shifts.

“I’ll get to it as soon as I finish mopping up,” I told him, looking away from him to the mop bucket beneath me as he practically undressed me with his eyes.

Slowly, conversations in the diner picked up again, but a sense of dread rolled through the pit of my stomach as a sudden realization hit me.

These shitty pregnancy pheromones were turning me into a discoball oozing of hormones in a place full of chaotic, horny werewolves.

Unmated pregnant females are like catnip for male werewolves out there. Our bodies shamelessly keep attracting them by showing how fertile we are, like we still live in a cave and need a fucking protector.

If I were Marked, the effects of it would’ve been muted, but since I wasn’t… well….

I hadn’t known this, but looking back now, it explained some of the borderline aggressive treatments I had gotten from males since I arrived in Rogueland. Ian had held them off… but he wasn’t here right now.

Cole didn’t move from the spot, and when I finished mopping, I considered my options of escape, but in truth I would need to pass by him to go to the kitchen.

I could feel my heart thudding in my chest as I started to move slowly, and when I got closer, he didn’t budge so I circled around him and walked off.

I began to let out a sigh of relief, but then I felt something: a hand groping my ass and squeezing hard.

It happened so quickly, and I turned without thinking and slapped him.

The impact it made left a sharp crack in the air, and once again all conversations in the diner came to a sharp halt as people registered what’d just happened.

My palm stung, and the angry red imprint of it on Cole’s face looked like a brand as he cupped it, his eyes wide with shock.

Then he let out a low, disbelieving laugh, licking his lips, and when I moved to put some distance between us his free hand flashed out and wrapped around my wrist in a vice grip I couldn’t pull out of.

I yelped as he applied pressure, squeezing so tightly I feared he would break my wrist.

But the worst was yet to come, because he pulled me close to him suddenly, and then whispered in my ear:

“You, a lowly Omega, raised your hand to strike me.” His rank breath washed hotly against the side of my face as he continued. “I will kill you for the insult. But before I do, I will make you pay… and enjoy doing it in front of everyone.”

The chill in his words sent a tremor through me, and this time I started to struggle with everything in me, trying to pull out of his grip.

In the heat of it all I didn’t notice his other hand moving to the front of my dress, and the sound of fabric ripping suddenly went through the whole room.