Page 11 of Bully Alpha’s Pregnant Mate (Starfire Hollow Alphas #2)

The council room reeks of stale coffee and frustration.

Damien leans back, one leg crossed over the other as he studies a rough map of Glory Town, the region that encompasses East Hills, Starfire Hollow, and Red Arrow packs, laid out on the table between us. He looks far too relaxed for someone who’s meant to be helping me locate a demon portal.

Gray, on the other hand, stands stiff as a rod with his arms crossed like he’s barely tolerating the whole thing. I swear the man hasn’t cracked a smile since I first met him.

“Let me get this straight,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose, “we’ve combed every damn inch of our respective territories, sent scouts day and night, and we still have nothing?”

Gray, Red Arrow’s alpha, sighs, shifting his weight, arms still crossed like he’s trying to hold himself together through sheer posture. “Pretty much sums it up, Alec. If there’s a portal somewhere, it’s hidden damn well. Or maybe the demons are simply biding their time and haven’t even opened it yet.”

Damien smirks, tossing his pen onto the table. “Or maybe they’re on vacation. Don’t demons deserve a break, too?” His joking tone grates against the situation, but I know that’s his way of trying to keep things from boiling over. Jade has had this look in her eyes lately, a wild certainty that the portal is still out there, and the fact that we’re coming up empty on every search is enough to have my own nerves frayed.

“I don’t need humor, Damien; I need a solution,” I snap, not hiding the edge in my voice.

His smirk fades slightly, and he leans forward. “Trust me, I know. I’ve got Jade at home insisting the portal is still out there and getting more frustrated by the day. She’s sure of it, Alec, and frankly, I trust her instincts. If Jade says it’s open, then it’s open. But that doesn’t mean we’re going to find it just by throwing scouts at the woods.”

Gray nods in agreement. “We need another angle. Whatever this thing is, it’s evading traditional methods. Maybe it’s cloaked or… operating on some kind of frequency that our people just aren’t able to pick up on.”

“Cloaked?” I repeat, raising an eyebrow. “We’re talking demons, not some kind of invisible force field. How the hell do we even prepare for that?”

Gray shrugs, and the lines on his face deepen. “Look, we’re still getting a handle on these things ourselves. We only just found out these things are actually real and not just bedtime stories our parents told us when we were cubs. But given what we’ve seen so far, it wouldn’t surprise me if demons were adapting, maybe even learning to mask their presence better. They’re not mindless. If they’ve survived this long in hiding, they must have some methods we haven’t figured out yet.”

“Great,” I huff, leaning back in my chair, feeling the beginnings of a headache creep in.

Damien clears his throat. “Look, Alec, what about reinforcing the current traps? I know you’ve been working on fortifying them with Isadora. Jade mentioned some of those methods were pretty advanced. Maybe that’s our edge.”

I sigh. “We’re trying, Damien. She’s got her own ideas, but let’s not pretend these things are foolproof. We’re talking about demons here, not some rogue wolves looking to cause trouble. They could open that portal inside the traps and avoid them altogether.”

Gray tilts his head, regarding me thoughtfully. “Isadora’s that good, then? I heard from my scouts that she’s added some high-tech elements to the traps. That’s unusual for a luna.” His tone is measured, but there’s a slight hint of intrigue behind it, as though he’s weighing her worth.

“Unusual is putting it lightly,” I mutter, hiding a small smirk. “But yeah, she’s been… effective. She trained with Ironclaw, learned a few tricks. She knows what she’s doing.”

Damien throws me a wink and teases, “Well, well, looks like married life might be making you a bit softer, Alec. You almost sound impressed.”

I shoot him a glare, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Let’s just say she’s been a surprise. But that doesn’t mean we’re suddenly ready to take on a demon horde with just a few extra barriers.”

“It’s not just about the traps, Alec,” Gray cuts in. “We need to be more proactive. If we’re waiting for them to come to us, we’re making ourselves sitting ducks.”

“That’s exactly my point.” I jab a finger at the map, feeling my frustration mount. “But unless Jade gives us a clearer direction, we’re running in circles. East Hills is massive, and so are your territories.” I glance between the two of them, my voice low and controlled. “What I need is concrete information, not theories.”

Damien’s face softens a fraction, and he nods. “Look, Alec, I get it. Jade’s got us all on edge, and it feels like we’re grasping at straws here. But she’s rarely wrong about these things. If she says there’s a threat, then there’s a threat.”

Gray looks away as if he’s searching for answers in the shadowed corners of the room. “Damien’s right. We’ve got a rare gift in Jade. We’ll keep working on it, but we need to start preparing our people for whatever this might bring. Our packs can’t be caught unprepared if these demons decide to make a move.”

I nod, though the frustration hasn’t lessened. I hate feeling like we’re steps behind, especially with something this serious. “Then we triple patrols on the borders, add as many sensors and cloaked traps as possible, and keep scouts posted along the main routes. Anything suspicious gets reported immediately.”

Both men nod. “And if it comes to it, we’re ready to defend East Hills,” Damien says. “You know that.”

“Red Arrow stands with you, Alec,” Gray adds. “We’re not taking this lightly.”

There’s a weight to their words, a reminder that this isn’t just a problem for East Hills but for every pack in the region. If the portal remains open, if demons are truly gathering on the other side, then none of us are safe.

“Good,” I say, meeting both of their gazes with a nod. “We’re in this together.”

Damien grins, though there’s a hint of his usual bravado there. “And hey, if you need an excuse to throw a few punches, I’m happy to spar. Can’t let you get soft with all this domestic life, right?”

“Is that your way of saying you miss getting your ass handed to you?” I shoot back, unable to resist the jab.

Gray rolls his eyes, muttering, “Not this again,” but I catch a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. For a moment, it’s like we’re back to normal—a reminder of the camaraderie we’ve built over years of battles, scouting missions, and late-night strategy sessions. But then reality settles back over us, heavy and unyielding.

Damien sobers, his gaze shifting to the map. “Let’s just hope we find this portal before it finds us.”

The drive home is a quiet one. The meeting is still turning over in my head like an unresolved puzzle. Damien, Gray, and I combed through every possibility, every rumor, but nothing concrete surfaced about that demon portal.

Jade’s vision hangs in the back of my mind like a dark cloud, casting a long shadow over the day. The possibility of an attack on our pack—it’s not a matter I can afford to ignore. The threat is real, even if it’s just lurking at the edges of our understanding for now.

By the time I pull up to the house, twilight’s already sinking into night, and a chill is settling in the air. Inside, the place is dark and quiet, the only light spilling out from the living room. I’m halfway through taking off my jacket when I catch sight of Isadora on the couch, curled up and fast asleep with her hand tucked under her cheek.

I walk over, noticing the dark circles under her eyes, the slight crease in her forehead. She looks like she’d kept working on the border until she couldn’t anymore, just like she said she would. She’s even left her shoes and jacket on, her bag still on the coffee table. For a moment, I stand there, just looking at her, taken aback by how small she looks wrapped up in herself, oblivious to the world around her. She must’ve worked herself into exhaustion.

Without giving myself much time to think, I lean down and slide my arms beneath her, lifting her gently. She stirs just enough to murmur something, a faint sigh as her head falls against my shoulder. The warmth of her breath against my neck makes my pulse quicken. I force myself to ignore it, carrying her carefully through the hall and up the stairs to her room.

Her hand shifts, catching the collar of my shirt, and she mumbles something—something that sounds suspiciously like my name. It’s soft, sleepy, almost affectionate, and somehow, it’s the one thing that could knock the breath right out of my lungs.

Her hand tightens, and her fingers brush against my skin as she holds on. I swear, in that moment, I’d give anything to hold on to her like this.

Her head tilts up just a bit, and before I realize it, our faces are inches apart, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from her skin. I can feel my heart pounding, every logical thought slipping away as her lips part just slightly, her breath mingling with mine. My gaze drops to her mouth, and it’s all I can do to keep myself from closing that last bit of distance.

I’ve been around her for weeks now, sharing a house with her, navigating this mess of a marriage we were both forced into. But right here, right now, all of that fades away. Right here, there’s just her, soft and warm in my arms, the faint scent of her filling the air.

The urge to kiss her is almost unbearable, a pull that digs in deep and won’t let go. Every part of me wants to lean in, to give in to whatever’s building between us. My dick springs to life, and my blood flow diverts to other regions, leaving me light-headed. It’s almost painful, holding back, resisting the urge to kiss her, taste her, and lose myself.

We’ve been sleeping apart ever since the wedding, and to say I’ve been horny would be an understatement. But somehow, the desire is mixed up with something more. There’s a sense of yearning that runs deep, and the more time we spend together, the deeper it goes.

But then, somewhere beneath the haze of want, logic rears its head. She’s exhausted, barely aware of what’s happening, and I know there’s a part of her that still looks at me with resentment, with a guarded edge that reminds me exactly how far we still have to go.

I set her down on the bed, carefully slipping my arms from around her and laying her back against the pillows. Her hand releases its grip on my collar, falling to her side as she settles. I pull the blanket over her, tucking it around her shoulders. She shifts again, murmuring something unintelligible, and there’s that hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

It hits me again—this fierce, almost painful urge to protect her, to make sure she never has to carry any of that old hurt again. I watch her for a moment, caught in that quiet vulnerability she never lets me see when she’s awake. For once, she’s not guarded, not braced for some argument or cutting remark. Just… at peace.

And then, because I know I shouldn’t push my luck, I step back after brushing a strand of hair away from her face before turning toward the door. But as I reach it, I can’t quite bring myself to leave without saying something.

“Goodnight, Isadora,” I whisper. I linger there, just watching her, the sound of her soft breathing filling the room.

As I close the door quietly behind me, the memory of her hand against my collar, her half-asleep murmuring of my name, stays with me. There’s a weight in my chest, a mixture of regret and something else I can’t quite shake off.

I don’t know when things changed, but somewhere along the line, it’s become impossible to ignore the truth: I care about her. I want her to see that I’m not the same guy who looked the other way when she needed someone. And maybe, just maybe, I’m starting to need her, too.