All Chapters of The Alpha's Regret : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Twelve weeks pregnant, and we could finally tell people."Who do we tell first?" Skyler asked. "Your parents? Ronan? The pack?""My parents. Then Ronan and Sarah. Then the pack." I touched my stomach, which was still flat but felt different somehow. "Tonight. Let's tell them tonight."We invited my parents to dinner at the cottage—a casual Friday meal that they didn't suspect was anything special."This is nice," Mom said, settling at the table. "We don't get enough family dinners anymore.""Well, we're about to have more family dinners," Skyler said, unable to contain his grin.Dad looked between us. "What's going on?"I pulled out the ultrasound photo, sliding it across the table. "We're having a baby. I'm twelve weeks along."Silence. Then Mom's shriek of joy nearly shattered windows."A baby! You're having a baby!" She was crying and laughing simultaneously, pulling me into a crushing hug. "When? How long have you known? Why didn't you tell us sooner?""Due in July. We've known fo

Twenty weeks pregnant—halfway there—and the nursery was still empty."We need to start preparing," Mom said, standing in the spare room that would become the baby's. "You can't wait until the last minute.""We have twenty more weeks," I protested."Which will fly by. Trust me." She pulled out her phone, showing me paint colors. "I'm thinking soft gray with navy accents. Classic, calming, works for a boy."Skyler appeared in the doorway. "I thought we agreed on forest green?""When did we agree on that?""Last week. I showed you samples.""You showed me samples while I was half-asleep. That doesn't count as agreement."Mom laughed. "This is what happens. You'll debate every detail. Paint colors, furniture, whether to use a crib or bassinet first. It's exhausting and wonderful."She was right. Over the next weeks, Skyler and I debated everything. He wanted traditional pack symbols painted on the walls. I wanted a space that felt calm and modern. He wanted the crib his father had built—a

Thirty-three weeks pregnant, and something felt wrong.I woke at 2 AM with cramping—sharp, insistent pain that radiated across my belly. Not normal Braxton Hicks contractions. Something else."Skyler." I shook him awake. "Something's wrong."He was alert immediately. "What's happening?""Cramping. Bad cramping. And I think—" I checked. "I'm bleeding."We were in the car within minutes, Skyler driving while I tried not to panic. Through the bond, I felt his terror matching mine."He's too early," I said, hands on my belly. The baby was still moving, but the cramping wasn't stopping. "It's too early. He needs seven more weeks.""Dr. Rivera will know what to do. Just breathe."The hospital was fifteen minutes away—the longest fifteen minutes of my life. Each cramp made me fear the worst. What if we were losing him? What if something was seriously wrong?Dr. Rivera met us in the emergency room, immediately getting me on monitors."Heartbeat is strong," she said, watching the screen. "Baby

The first night in the hospital, I didn't sleep at all.Not because Asher was crying—he actually slept surprisingly well in his little plastic bassinet beside my bed. But because I couldn't stop staring at him.Every tiny breath, every small movement, every flutter of his eyelids mesmerized me. I was terrified that if I looked away, something would happen. That he would stop breathing. That this perfect, impossible creature would somehow disappear."You need to rest," Skyler murmured from the chair he'd pulled up beside my bed. He hadn't left the room since Asher was born. "Sleep while he's sleeping.""I can't. What if something happens?""The nurses check on him every hour. The monitors would alert if anything was wrong. He's fine, Wren.""I know. Logically, I know. But I just... I need to watch him."Skyler stood, carefully lifting Asher from the bassinet. Our son made a small sound of protest but settled immediately against his father's chest."Then we'll watch him together," Skyle

Three weeks in, and we'd developed a routine. Sort of."Routine" was maybe too strong a word. "Organized chaos" was more accurate.Asher woke every three hours like clockwork. I'd feed him while Skyler changed him. Then Skyler would rock him back to sleep while I tried to remember what sleep felt like.Repeat. Forever."I used to think I was tired," I told Vera over video chat one afternoon. "I had no idea what tired was.""You look like death.""Thanks. You always know what to say.""I'm serious. When did you last shower?"I tried to remember. "Tuesday?""Wren. It's Friday.""In my defense, showering requires putting Asher down. He has opinions about being put down."As if summoned, Asher started fussing from his bassinet."Gotta go. Baby's awake.""Love you! Shower!"---The gallery remained closed. I'd told myself I'd reopen after six weeks, but now that deadline was approaching and I couldn't imagine leaving Asher."You could bring him with you," Skyler suggested. "Set up a plaype