Camille's POV I made a conscious effort to avoid Alpha Vikron as much as possible. His anger was justified. No man wanted responsibility for another man's pup. I skipped breakfast, choosing instead to come downstairs two hours late, after he had already left the pack mansion. The hunger from the pregnancy grew worse, more intense, almost unbearable. But I had to endure it, even if it meant ordering pizzas for breakfast. Today, for some inexplicable reason, it seemed the gods were smiling on me, Sylvia, the cook, had reserved my portion of food in the kitchen. I sat on the cold, hard floor, greedily munching on the food on my plate as if it could somehow fly away. “What are you doing on the floor?” The voice, not the question, made me choke on a mouthful of food as my head jerked toward the sound. I coughed, clutching my chest, then slowly pulled myself upright, head bowed. “Good morning.” “That’s not an answer to my question!” he snapped sharply, irritation lacing his tone
Last Updated : 2025-07-06
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