Page 7 of Alpha’s Secret Baby Girl (Nightfall Island Alphas #1)

Gwen had had plans for her eventual wedding.

She’d always thought it would happen someday, though not to Rafael.

She had envisioned trellises of flowers arching over a pathway of white stones.

There would only be a few lines of benches, filled with the people who were the most important to her.

Kira and Chelsey were there in her imagination, along with the friends she’d made since leaving the island.

Most of the chairs were filled with faceless people in her mind, ready to be given the features of her husband’s family.

This… this was nothing like what she wanted.

She’d wanted the full experience. Shopping for the perfect dress, cake tastings, and picking out the perfect bouquet.

Instead, she stood in the living room of Rafael’s big, empty house.

A building she’d never stepped foot in before, one that she’d never wanted to step foot in to begin with.

Lianne was already in bed when the Elder Priest came to the door.

He was the oldest member of the pack and, therefore, the one with the most spiritual guidance.

Or so tradition went. He was the only person within the pack who had the right to perform marriages.

Rafael spoke with him under his breath while Gwen waited on the other side of the room.

Her hands twisted together as she stared at the floor. Beside her, Rafael’s younger brother, Michael, cleared his throat.

“Raf is stubborn and doesn’t like to change his mind, but I could try to talk to him,” he offered softly.

Gwen shook her head once. “There’s no point. He’s made up his mind. And this will be a good thing. For Lianne.”

Michael hesitated, then said, “He won’t hurt you.”

“He already did. Seven years ago.”

“That was—” Michael started, but Rafael and the Elder Priest had started over.

Gwen lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.

She still had the chance to say she wasn’t here by her own will.

She could tell the priest that Rafael was coercing her, that she didn’t consent to the marriage.

It was technically illegal to marry her to him if she wasn’t fully willing.

But it was also technically illegal for them to be married and to backdate the marriage certificate to seven years prior, which was exactly what was going to happen.

“Join hands,” the priest grunted.

Rafael reached for Gwen’s hand, and she pulled it back sharply, her heart beating heavily in her chest. She stared at him, her hands clenching into fists.

“Gwen,” he murmured.

The prenup was signed. If, in a year, she chose to divorce him, she would retain primary custody of Lianne.

Rafael was already in the process of establishing a trust for his daughter, one that would cover her future education, wedding, travel, and any other expenses she wished to incur.

He was going to take care of her, even if Gwen didn’t live with him.

That was a comfort of sorts. She had long worried about what would happen to Lianne if something happened to her.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he held out his hand, palm up, and waited.

Gwen took a deep breath. She could do this.

Rafael might insist she live with him, might insist that she marry him so that the pack wouldn’t look down on Lianne for being born out of wedlock, but he wasn’t going to hurt her.

That much she believed with all her heart.

At least, not physically.

She set her hand in his lightly. “Skip to the vows.”

The priest wrinkled his nose but nodded once. He retrieved a thin green-and-red ribbon from his pocket and began to wrap it around their joined hands as he intoned the vows that a married couple made to each other.

When he was done, he cut their thumbs and they pressed the blood together.

And then it was done. Gwen was married to the man who had rejected her seven years ago.

She waited patiently for the Elder to unwind the ribbon, then spun on her heel and headed for the door.

Voices spoke behind her in low murmurs. The Elder mentioned how disrespectful she was to her new husband.

But Gwen didn’t look back as she strode to the stairs, escaping as quickly as she could. She might be married, but that didn’t mean she had to pretend to be happy about it.

“Gwen.” Rafael followed after her. He caught her wrist halfway up the stairs. “This is for the best. You’ll see.”

Gwen pulled her hand away. “I married you, didn’t I? You don’t have to keep arguing your point.” She turned, but hesitated. Taking a deep breath, she looked back at him. “I don’t want to tell Lianne. Not yet. This is too sudden, and I don’t want her to think it’s normal.”

Rafael’s jaw tightened. “You want me to lie about being her father?”

“Not lie. Just not tell her. Not yet. Please.” Gwen’s voice faded at the end, and her hands tightened. She couldn’t find the words to express why it was so important to her.

Rafael searched her face. She thought he was going to tell her to go to hell, but instead, he nodded. “Fine. You’ll get to decide when. Just remember that when the pack knows, it will be hard to keep it a secret.”

***

The next morning, Gwen woke to the sounds of Lianne laughing.

She got up and quickly undressed—she had gone to sleep wearing the same crinkled shirt and jeans she’d arrived at the island in.

As she pulled the clothes out of her suitcase, she found herself sorting through them and trying to find her prettiest outfit.

She made fairly good money as a waitress and could afford nicer things.

It was ridiculous. Scratch that, it was stupid for her to care about what Rafael thought about how she looked.

The man had forced her into this marriage; he certainly didn’t care about what she looked like yesterday.

Now, though… she grunted in annoyance to herself.

Fuck him. She cared what she looked like and didn’t want to end up on the receiving end of snide comments.

In the end, she chose an aquamarine off-the-shoulder top and a white skirt.

Both were wrinkled, but they flattered her figure, such as it was.

She smoothed her hands over her stomach after she was dressed.

This strapless bra compressed her breasts more than she liked, but overall, she thought it was a good look.

She had put on weight over the last seven years and didn’t like to look at pictures of herself, but she was trying to be kinder to herself.

Hopefully, Rafael would be kind as well.

With nothing else for it, she headed downstairs.

The smell of pancakes and bacon greeted her, making her stomach rumble.

It took a bit to find her way to the kitchen, but when she got there, she found Rafael at the stove with Lianne standing on a chair next to him.

She leaned into his side, holding a spatula in one hand, her eyes fixed on the pancakes.

“Good morning,” Rafael said.

Gwen’s head jerked toward him, her traitorous heart fluttering. He smiled at her, and the softness in his eyes made her heart flutter again. Lianne twisted around, waved, and turned back to the pancakes with a dedicated expression. Gwen joined them quietly.

“Raf-el is teaching me about pancakes, Mommy,” Lianne said. “You can’t flip them until they bubble up or they smear the flipper.”

“Is that so?” Gwen asked.

Lianne nodded once.

“Have you never had pancakes before, Gwen?” Rafael asked, his voice teasing.

Lianne answered with a scoff. “Of course we do! It’s usually at the restaurant, though.

Mommy and me cook when Mommy isn’t too tired.

I like cooking. Last week we cooked a whole turkey!

It was yummy. I helped rip up the bread, and I put the plates on the table, and I put the cups on the table, and I… ”

She continued describing their ‘feast.’ Gwen hovered nearby, ready to intervene if Lianne made a mistake and Rafael started getting after her.

To her surprise, he was the pinnacle of patience.

When it came to doing anything with the cooking, he explained what they were doing and why before showing her how to do it.

He was like this before, too. When they first found themselves sneaking off together, meeting up in strange spots.

He was kind, gentle. He listened to her and encouraged her to think about herself in more positive terms. He’d raged against his father and had been so patient when he taught her things she didn’t know.

The memories crowded into Gwen’s mind, taking her breath away.

That version of Rafael was here, helping Lianne.

That version was the sort of man she wanted to be a father to her daughter.

But he was also the man who declared that she had to marry him.

Who took away her only means of leaving the island and moved her into his house without a discussion.

He was the man who had scoffed at her in front of the pack and said he only slept with her because he was bored. So, which was the real version of him?

“I’ll start setting the table if you’ll show me where the dishes are,” she said, trying to fight back the thoughts in her head.

Rafael pointed them out and thanked her with a smile. The sort of smile that had worn down her guard seven years ago.

She thought that it was over. She thought she’d gotten over him and what he did.

She thought she had forgiven herself and healed.

But now, it was as though he’d cut those scars open for them to bleed afresh.

When she looked at him with Lianne, she could blame herself for keeping him away from their daughter.

When she thought of how he had treated her back then and now, after he realized Lianne was his daughter, she knew she had been right to keep him away from her.

It was all just too confusing.