Page 7 of Alpha's Chosen Mate (Wolf Billionaire #2)

CHAPTER 7

GEORGIA

“ Y ou are with child, luna.”

It’s not the first time I’ve been pregnant with Christian’s child, but this time, I don’t have to terminate it out of fear of being discovered by my best friend or getting killed by her father for my betrayal. I am Christian’s luna now, and I carry the alpha’s precious heir in my belly.

My mother would be proud.

The stairs leading up to my husband’s study are devoid of guards, I realize. Lately, it’s been off-limits, even for me. It initially wasn’t, not for Leilani at least. We would sit together for hours in her father’s manor, talking about men, sex, and our future. I hated her back then. Listening to her speak about Christian, a man I’d set my sights on since I became aware of what intimacy meant, made my blood boil. I didn’t think she deserved him. She was too innocent, too naive. She already had a life every woman in our world would kill for. Surely, she should’ve let someone else have Christian .

As I reach the top of the stairs and approach the study, I recall one of our many chats. Christian took her virginity right there, on his father’s desk, which is now his. It was why I pressed him take mine there too, once our affair began. To erase whatever of Leilani I could in his life and take her place…so that when he worked on that desk, he would think of me. Not her.

I hesitate for a second, gripping the edge of my skirts with anxiety. Chris doesn’t like it when I go against his instructions. I still have a healing dark eye from the last time I disobeyed him, even though it’s hidden under several layers of makeup.

Dread travels down my spine. He wouldn’t hit me if I gave him this news. Nothing could be more important than this—our child.

Those words ring untrue in my heart, and bitterness sweeps in.

When Christian asked me to be his chosen mate and luna, I was overjoyed. I’d expected to remain his mistress, even after his marriage to Leilani. Christian never he gave me any explanations for his schemes, which always turned out brilliantly. I’ve never met a man more wicked and intelligent. It’s one of the things that drew me to him in the first place.

And now, it’s the thing that scares me most.

I never know what my husband is thinking, and I don’t think I will ever be able to unravel that deceptive mind of his.

After Leilani walked in on us naked, he fucked me hard, raw, and passionate. He told me we were made for each other. He pushed inside me, pressing my head deeper into the pillows, and whispered, “You could never be like Leilani.” For hours, I wondered if I was imagining him growing harder when he spoke of Leilani, but he reassured me that she could never be as perfect for him as I was.

As he watched my mother prepare me for our wedding, he told me that he loved me and that I was the most beautiful woman on earth. And an hour before the mating ritual, he took me in my wedding dress, whispering sweet nothings in my ears. I was cunning and selfish, and he adored those qualities in me.

But throughout the entirety of our wedding, he watched Leilani prance drunkenly around the hall. His nails dug painfully into my skin when another man so much as looked at her. And when Alpha Mardoc raised an alarm because his daughter was missing, Christian left me for the rest of the night to join the search parties. He didn’t return until morning, and then, he wasn’t himself.

I’d never seen him so angry and out of control.

He trashed his—our—bedroom. He smashed every piece of furniture into splinters. The walls were cracked from his punches, and Leilani’s dresses were torn to shreds, like he somehow hoped to find her in them.

I didn’t understand his anger. If he loved me as much as he claimed, why did her disappearance affect him so severely? Trying to get an explanation out of him had earned me a slap so hard I lost my sight for a full minute. It was the first time he hit me, and the moment I came to, he apologized with flowers and gifts. He made love to me for hours, like he should have on our wedding night, and when he came inside me, he said reverently, “I love you, Lei.”

It became startlingly clear that the woman Christian wanted in his bed was not me .

I’ve barely been in the same space with my husband since then, save for meetings with the elders that we must attend as a couple. I can tell he’s still searching for, even if he barely speaks more than two words to me these days. The servants gossip about it and laugh at me behind my back. I’ve swiftly become the topic of ridicule in a pack I should be ruling over. She isn’t even here and she still manages to steal the spotlight, my life, my husband .

My fists clench as I near the door. I’ve never wished anyone death, and for Leilani, I want something worse. I hope the pain from being unable to reject the mating bond kills her slowly. For every tear I’ve shed because of her, I wish she suffers through hours of agonizing pain, alone.

Myfingers graze the doorknob, but the sound of his voice stops me before I twist it. “Asher Wilde?” Christian asks gruffly, and it isn’t his cold tone that causes a shiver to snake down my spine. It’s those two words. One name. One man. Asher Wilde is the monster in the fairytales we grew up listening to—the bloodthirsty alpha who painted our lands red with the blood of our own. His vengeance chased us this far to the south, desperate to avoid his wrath. Some claim he’s a madman who gains pleasure from terrorizing his own kind.

I’m unsure which motivation is correct—revenge or sadism—but judging from his last attack and how many we had to bury afterward, I’d put money on the latter.

But why is he talking about Asher Wilde?

A small thud and female laughter drift through the door. “He has her. Safe to say she’s as good as dead now.” A throaty moan makes my shoulders tense and my fingers tremble as I quietly twist the knob. I see the red couch first, then the fur coat hanging off it, along with a designer bag with red lipstick peeking out of it. “You seem upset,” the woman pants, and my gaze rises to the mirror.

Something painful lodges in my throat, stealing my ability to breathe. A woman is pressed against the desk, her flushed cheeks pressing into papers and old books. Her lips part as Christian grips her hips roughly, pulling her back as his hips buck forward. His green eyes are cold with disinterest and anger as he pulls out of her and thrusts back in with a rich, languid stroke. “Why abduct her just to announce it right after? Why hasn’t he killed her?”

My eyes burn with tears and I take a step back, like I used to when I visited and realized Leilani was home. But I don’t run this time, because this is my home. My pack. And that is my husband, fucking another woman when he won’t even look at me.

The woman groans, biting her bottom lip as she grinds back into Christian. “Who knows?” She gasps and clutches the edge of the table. “If I had any doubts he’s crazy, they’re gone with the news that he mated with the little cunt?—”

Christian seizes her by her hair and yanks her back against his chest. “Mate?” he grunts into her ear. “They’re mated ?”

Her side profile, now clear in the mirror, sends my anger boiling over. Camille? He’s screwing Leilani’s maid ?

Camille winces as she reaches up to disentangle his fingers from her hair, but he just holds on tighter. “I overheard Mardoc and Morris talking about it. Morris thinks he should give into the crazy alpha’s demands, but Mardoc is adamant that he’ll never give up the pack and bend the knee to a murderous stranger. He’s gambling with his daughter’s life. He believes there’s a reason Asher Wilde chose to mate with her instead of killing her. He thinks…” She whimpers pa infullywhen Christian tugs harder. “He thinks they might be mates. Morris doesn’t agree.”

Christian stills, those brilliant eyes of his darting left and right like they usually do when he’s deep in thought. In a matter of seconds, I see a variety of emotions flicker in his eyes—all for Leilani, even if he’s balls-deep in Camille—and that strikes a nerve too deep inside me to ignore.

I love you, Lei.

I push the door open and they both jump, glancing in my direction.

Camille’s eyes widen and she scampers forward, trying to hold the front of her blouse closed as she pulls down her skimpy skirt. I don’t pay her much attention. I’m unable to look away from Christian, who pushes his dick back into his pants, his lips curled with displeasure. “You shouldn’t be up here, Georgia.”

My nostrils flare. “That’s the first thing you say to me when I walk in on you with another woman? I shouldn’t be here? Why, so I wouldn’t see this?” I gesture between both of them and sneer at how Camille trembles as she grapples for her bag. Something in my chest shatters. Did Leilani feel this hurt carving at my insides? This searing pain? I point at Camille. “Why her? She’s the fucking help!”

Camille darts toward the door, trying to avoid me, but I grab her black curls in my fist. She struggles against me, pushing and whimpering, but she’s a lowly omega. She’s a nobody, reaching too high and picking fights she’ll never win.

Her purse falls to the floor and fearful black eyes meet mine. “G-Georgia?—”

Cold laughter slips past my lips. “Do you think fucking my husband grants you the right to call me by name? Did you forget who funds your little brother’s treatments? Whose money ensures that he stays alive? How do you think Mardoc will react when he discovers that you’re spying on him?”

Tears fill her eyes, but so does hatred. “Luna Georgia, please.”

I pull her close until I can see my reflection in her eyes. “The day this happens again is the day your brother joins your parents in the afterlife.” I drag a nail along her sharp cheekbones. “Maybe I’ll take your pretty face too, so no one ever wants to fuck you again.”

Her body shakes and the smell of her fear appeals to every instinct that screams at me to tear out her throat. I bet she’ll die easily, like all omegas do.

I bare my teeth, feeling my canines elongate in anticipation. Her pulse pounds sweetly, calling to my anger, but before I can indulge it, Christian grabs my shoulder. Breathing through my nostrils, I fight for control, and my hold on Camille loosens.

She flees, sobbing, and it isn’t until her cries fade that I turn to look at him. His eyes are cold and empty, without remorse or guilt. I don’t realize I’m moving until my palm connects with his cheek. “Bastard! How could you do this to me? To us ?”

He does nothing, says nothing, which only infuriates me further. I pound my fists into his chest, sobbing and yelling, “I hate you!” He lets me. Only after my strength has waned does he react.

Christian takes my wrist and watches me with unnerving calm. “Control yourself, Georgia. This behavior is unbecoming of a luna.”

Tears streak down my cheeks as I stare up at him in pure disbelief. “Fuck that. Fuck you . You’re sick in the head. How many women have you brought up here since our wedding?”

His brow arches in amusement. “Odd that you would care. You did the same thing to your best friend without batting an eye.” He cocks his head, studying me closely. “Are you hurt, Georgia?” He reaches forward and I snarl when his thumb brushes underneath my eyes, wiping away my tears. He chuckles at my reaction and turns his back on me.

I know what comes next. This has happened too many times in the past few weeks. This is when Christian dismisses me and I return to my room, cry myself to sleep, wake up to more flowers, and pretend it never happened.

I clench my fists, choking on a sob. “Do you love me at all, Chris?”

He glances over his shoulder at me. “Of course I do. You’re my wife.” It sounds unfeeling, like he’s reading from a script.

“Are you in love with me?”

This time, he actually looks me in the eye. “I’ve only ever been in love with one woman, and that will never change.”

Leilani.

My nails dig into my palms as I push back the urge to cry, snotty and ugly. But that won’t work on Christian. My tears mean nothing, my pleas won’t change anything, and my anger won’t hurt him. So I aim at the only target I know will hurt him for sure. “I suggest you forget about Leilani. If anything Camille says is true and she’s in the hands of Asher Wilde, there’s only one reason he hasn’t killed her yet. She’s become his willing whore to save herself. She’s spreading her legs for the enemy, and you can be sure as hell that he’ll fuck her in ways you never did. ”

I expect a blow, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Christian moves so quickly I don’t see him until his fingers are wrapped around my throat. He throws me across the room. I’m suspended in the air for a second, bile rushing up my throat, and a scream tears from my throat as I crash into the desk. My stomach rams into the edge and excruciating pain consumes me whole. The table screeches as I collapse to the ground, curling in on myself and gasping for air as I clutch my stomach. Tears blur my vision as Christian’s face comes into view.

I want to tell him to stay the hell away from me, but I can’t speak. Everything hurts and the metallic tang of blood is heavy in the air. I’m bleeding.

He lifts me off the ground and panic flares in his eyes. “Fuck, Georgia, why didn’t you tell me?”

My head lolls as he tucks me against his chest and takes the stairs three at a time. I barely hear him barking orders at the guards to get the physician as he carries me down the hallway to his room. Warmth drips down my thighs as the pain intensifies, and I know what’s happening before the physician arrives.

When I wake up later that night to Christian’s fingers in my hair and his lips against my forehead as he murmurs an apology, again and again, I know I lost our child.