Rejected and Saved by my Alpha

2

LILY

I don’t know how long I just stood there, sitting on the bed, my eyes glued to my phone screen.

I’ll be at the ultrasound next week.

The more I looked at that text, the more I read it, the more an awful, disgusting sense of dread layered on my shoulders – it felt as if someone was laying stones over stones of doubts, fears, and suspicions on me.

What … what is this? What am I looking at?

Connor had no reason at all to send me such a text – I had no ultrasound booked, for any reason.

Which meant that he had mistakenly sent that to me. That text was meant to be delivered to another person.

Likely another … another woman.

A wave of nausea hit my stomach, and I brought a hand to my mouth – not just to try to contain the urge I had to puke, but also to muffle a sob.

My wolf let out a small, pained whine – probably sensing and accepting that reality before I could.

No. No, this can’t be … No, it can’t be. We’re getting married … tomorrow …

My head began to spin.

Ultrasound.

I’ll be late tonight. Don’t wait for me.

Very hot date.

Ultrasound.

Love you.

I’ll be at the ultrasound.

Whatever control I had over my stomach left, and I vomited what was left of my afternoon snack on the carpet. And some more after that.

This couldn’t be real. Connor and I were getting married in less than twenty-four hours – it just … it just couldn’t be. I knew him – I knew his heart. He was a good, loyal man … he couldn’t have possibly cheated on me.

I couldn’t believe it, because if I did, then everything I thought, everything I’d hoped and planned for our future together, everything I believed true … would have turned out a lie.

Think, I ordered myself. You never had any kind of betrayal pain ever since you’ve been with him, right? So he can’t have possibly cheated, you would’ve felt it. And … ultrasounds can be made for so many reasons. It’s not just pregnancy. Maybe … maybe he has a friend who has some … kind of medical condition …

Yeah – it was likely.

Or maybe his mom … there can be so many different reasons for that text …

But there was just one way to know it.

The mere thought of going into his office and confronting him made my guts freeze – that would mean … saying everything out loud. Making that text, and all of its possible implications, even more real. And if the truth wasn’t the one I hoped, but the one I suspected …

No. No, I needed to know.

Before I could change my mind, I changed myself into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and marched out of the room.

I’m sure it’s nothing. A sick friend, or relative, or maybe even a prank. I’m sure it’s nothing.

I kept repeating those words over and over in my head for the whole five minutes I took walking towards his office: and when I found myself in front of the decorated oak door, I swallowed down the last remnant of fear that begged me to just go back and go out, enjoy the night with my friends and forget it all, and opened it.

“Lils!”

Connor was sitting behind his desk, which was, as he had said, full of piles and piles of papers: it looked like he really had a rough evening, and maybe night, ahead.

“Baby, what are you doing here?” he asked, smiling, as he stood up and walked over to me. His hand quickly found my face – and for just a moment, as his rough thumb gently swept across my cheek, I forgot it all. Nothing mattered but him – my mate, the man I loved. “I thought you were going out with Cassie and the others”.

I made to reply – to ask him about that text – but my voice died in my throat.

His smile took a more mischievous turn.

“Or maybe you came by for a kiss?” he chuckled, leaning in.

And I … I would’ve happily, mindlessly given in hadn’t that word popped up in my mind again.

Ultrasound.

I instinctively moved away as soon as his lips came too close, and that was when he understood something was wrong.

“Sweetheart, what’s up?” he asked, his hands hooking around my waist. “You don’t seem like yourself. Are you upset?”

I tried, once again, to find within me enough voice to speak … but I didn’t.

With shaking hands, I took the phone out of my pocket and showed him the text.

And my heart cracked again.

Because Connor’s beautiful green-golden eyes went wide as saucers in a look that was not surprise, or confusion, but pure, unadulterated fear.

He had the look of someone who had made a very, very big mess.

My eyes filled with tears.

“Tell me this isn’t true,” I whispered. “Please. Please tell me it’s just a … a bachelor’s night prank or something”.

Not a single breath, let alone a sound, left my mate’s lips.

“Connor, please”.

A strangled sob left my throat when, once again, he stayed silent, doing nothing but staring at me with pleading, teary eyes.

“Baby …” he whispered, taking a step towards me.

I took one back – and in that very moment, the door flung open.

“Damn it, Connor!” an all-too familiar voice screeched. “It’s our f*****g baby! You can’t just ghost me like this!”

And that was when my heart finally, completely broke.

When I got the confirmation of my worst nightmare from none other than my step-sister, Jane.