Impregnating Mom Stories Novels & Stories

I quickly send Daniel a message, ‘I’m so sorry, my mum’s been abducted by aliens and has been replaced by a dragon! Hopefully meeting Daniels mum goes better. Now I feel super nervous. If this is how my mum feels, then Daniel’s mum must feel the same way about protecting him.

Mom, of course, refused to let me go alone; even if it was more dangerous for her now. Mom has always been a strong woman. She told me stories of how she helped build our home when she was younger and about how she used to kick Dad's butt in training some days. All of that was before the attack though. With the loss of Dad, she was weaker. Mated wolves are bonded down to the very core. If one feels pain, the other will know. But if a mated wolf dies, there's a large chance of the other dying too. They could get sick and wither away. Mom didn't. She lost a lot of weight and muscle in the first year and she never gained any of it back. I could no longer remember her without bagginess under her

I pull the dishes from the cupboard. “Did you get someone pregnant, Honey?” She comes over and takes me by the shoulders with a worried expression. “Oh, no Mom. Nothing like that.” I reassure her. I tell her all about what happened with Zara while I set the table. I leave out the fact that she is my mate and focus on how she is not like the rest of the sigmas I bring in for processing. “I see.” Mom clasps her hands in front of her. I can’t read her expression, so I place glasses on the table and wait for her to say something.

His eyes looked at Alice, who immediately froze. “A honeybee looking for its mother? Uhm...” “Yes, Mom. I like that fairy tale. Poor bee, his mother is missing and doesn't know where she is. Then she looked for her mother, crying for her mother who was gone. Let's tell that story again, Mom! Come on!” Valen was impatient, tugging at Alice's hand. Making Alice's heart grow even more resentful. “This child is really troublesome. I wonder if I'll tell you the story of the bee that missed its mother!” Alice grumbled to herself.

This record will threaten her more than anything else ever could. I found a blank space. My pen trembles. LADY SARAPHINA. THEFT. FRAUD. MANIPULATION OF PACK RESOURCES THROUGH FALSE MATERNAL CLAIM. Each word burns. I closed the book. My heart slams against my ribs. Then I pick it up and go straight to the pack garden, where my mother always relaxes. She’s there. “Look, Mum,” I say, holding the book up, her name dark and clear on the page.

Mom needed me, even if she couldn't show it. Squeezing her hand tighter, I decided on a different approach. "Remember that time we went camping?" I began, a gentle smile playing on my lips. I launched into the story of our disastrous camping trip, the leaking tent, the swarm of mosquitoes, and the hilarious moment a raccoon stole our bag of marshmallows. As I spoke, a flicker of something crossed my mom's face. Was it a ghost of a smile? Hope flared, a fragile flame in the darkness. I continued, weaving more stories, each one a thread connecting me to her, willing her back to the surface.

"Daddy said she is the backup." "She does the chores but gets no wages." "The Real Mom is responsible for being beautiful and guarding the treasury." My fingertips turned ice-cold against the paper. My mate, Ethan, had just returned from a patrol. He kissed my forehead. "What did our pup draw?" The next second, his smile froze when he saw the content. His voice tightened, and he reached out to snatch the book. "He watches too many cartoons! He's writing nonsense!" I stared at the man I had shared a den with for seven years.

I dropped the photo and it fluttered to the floor between us. My mom never talked about her past. Gossip said she showed up in our town one day, pregnant with me, no ring, no family, no explanations. She told me once that some stories were safer buried. I thought she meant a bad ex or money problems. I…I…I don’t think sh… she meant this. I pressed both hands to my mouth to avoid screaming and my chest hurt as if someone had punched straight through me. Eli reached for me slowly, and brushed his fingers on my knees.

She felt her lungs become tight as her eyes began to sting. "I think a Momma is someone who would eat nasty spinach when they want butta butta cake. And a Momma is going to fix up her baby's room so that she can be a princess. A Momma is going to work extra hard so that her baby has what they need. A Momma does my hair and not the other way around! Momma's cook dinner instead of bringing home fish and French fries for dinner every other day! And a Momma should say, Juicy you are not alone; even though Felix is dead now, you are not alone!" Her hands were balled into tight fists and she looked down at them suddenly.

I was small, huddled under thin blankets, the darkness punctuated by flashes of lightning. Then, Momma was there. Her hands, rough from work but always gentle as she stroke my hair. “It’s alright, habibti,” she whispered, her voice a warm blanket against the storm’s fury. She told me the story of Cinderella, her voice soft and melodic, painting pictures of glass slippers and fairy godmothers in my mind. For a little while, the storm outside faded. Then a terrifying angry voice came, it was my dad, he was calling my mother's name, demanding her to come to him immediately.