Page 3 of Bully Alpha’s Pregnant Mate (Starfire Hollow Alphas #2)

I didn’t think much could surprise me at this point, but I guess life still has a sense of humor.

Isadora Simpson. Of all the people in this territory—hell, in this world—she’s the one standing in front of me, supposedly my soon-to-be bride.

Isadora. Quiet, mysterious, and, from what I remember, the last person who’d want anything to do with me.

She doesn’t look quite how I remember. She’s… more. The pale skin, black hair, and those ocean-blue eyes have this haunting elegance to them. It’s a sharp contrast to the girl I remember, always tucked away in a book or avoiding any kind of attention. Her hair’s also longer now, and it glides over her shoulders, framing a face that’s all high cheekbones and rosy cheeks.

And those curves… well, let’s just say she’s grown into them. A lot.

But her expression? Cool, calm, with not even a flicker of recognition. If anything, there’s a hint of defiance in the way she holds herself, like she’s braced for a battle she’s already determined to win.

I’m silent, trying to process what’s in front of me as Quincey stands beside me with his hands in his pockets, glancing between us with a grin like he’s just waiting for something to explode.

“So,” I manage, keeping my tone casual, “Isadora Simpson. It’s been a long time.”

Her gaze flicks up to meet mine, polite but reserved. “It has, Alpha.”

The formal tone doesn’t surprise me, but it’s strange to hear it from her, of all people. A small, polite smile touches her lips, but her eyes remain unreadable, a practiced look that says she’s not about to reveal a single thought to me if she can help it.

Quincey clears his throat, probably sensing the tension. “Well, this is… a pleasant surprise,” he comments, trying to sound casual, though he’s terrible at hiding the amusement in his voice. “I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on.”

I shoot him a look. “Really, Quince? Just going to leave us here to fend for ourselves?”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t dream of interrupting… whatever this is.”

Isadora’s smile sharpens just a little, and I can’t decide if she’s amused or plotting something. Either way, it’s intriguing.

Quincey, sensing his moment, makes a hasty exit, dragging Isadora’s mother with him to leave the two of us standing alone in my office.

I turn my attention back to Isadora, struggling to find words that fit the situation. She hasn’t said a word, but somehow, I sense she’s different from the quiet, introverted girl I remember. She’s all strength now, with a gaze that meets mine evenly, not an ounce of submission.

“So,” I say, trying to keep things light, “welcome to my humble abode. Not exactly the typical East Hills cabin, is it?”

She glances around the opulent space, taking in the polished floors, the chandeliers, the endless stretch of shadowy rooms just outside the hallway. “No,” she says with a faint hint of humor. “It’s… excessive.”

I laugh, unable to help it. “Guess I can’t argue with that. I didn’t pick the place.”

She hums noncommittally, her gaze coming back to mine, calm and steady. There’s a guarded look in her eyes, but something else, too. Something that reminds me of those summers when she used to avoid me at all costs, keeping to the shadows like she was afraid her very presence might invite trouble.

And maybe it did, back then. I wasn’t exactly kind. But now, standing here, facing her, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s a history she’s holding on to with both hands.

“So,” she says, breaking the silence, “I assume you know why I’m here.”

I nod slowly, considering my words. “Your father. He made a… mistake.” The word feels too light, too harmless. “From what I hear, he used pack funds for personal… interests.” I watch her face for a reaction, but she remains stone-faced, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Offering you to the council was his way of making amends, I guess.”

“Ah.” Her voice is calm, almost indifferent, but there’s a flicker in her gaze. “That’s one way to put it.”

It’s not just duty that makes me agree to this marriage; it’s my responsibility to the pack and the alliances we’re trying to solidify. Her father’s mistake was serious, something that could have cost them their place in the pack. But as I look at her now, I can’t ignore the irony. Isadora—quiet, introverted Isadora—offered up as some kind of sacrificial lamb to secure her family’s place in the pack. The girl who avoided everyone now forced into a marriage with the pack’s most public figure for the sake of appearances and loyalty.

A part of me can’t help but feel the injustice of it. And maybe… maybe even a bit of regret.

“So, this is happening,” I say more to myself than her, testing the weight of the words. “Isadora Simpson, my future bride.”

She gives me that polite, guarded smile again. “It appears so, Alpha.”

The formal tone grates, and I want to tell her to drop it, to just call me Alec. But the words are stuck in my throat, and before I can even think of how to shift the conversation, she takes a step forward, closing the distance between us with a deliberate, steady gaze. She’s looking at me like I’m some kind of puzzle she’s already solved, like she knows exactly what she wants to say and is daring me to stop her.

And then, before I can even blink, she’s standing inches from me. “I’m only going to say this once, so listen carefully.” Her blue eyes lock onto mine, sharp as ice. “I thought I could do this, but I can’t. I refuse to marry you. I don’t care what agreement the council made or what debts my father owes. This isn’t going to happen.”

I take a deep breath, letting her words hang in the air between us. She refuses to marry me—refuses. The defiance in her voice is almost impressive, and she’s looking at me with those intense blue eyes, daring me to push back.

For a split second, I feel a flash of guilt, a reminder of how I’d been one of many who made her life hell back then. But that was a long time ago. And right now, I have a duty to uphold.

“It’s not that simple, Isadora,” I tell her, keeping my tone calm and even. “You can’t just decide to walk away from this.”

She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. “Watch me.”

There’s a fire in her that I hadn’t expected, and I can’t help but admire it, even if it’s directed at me. But this isn’t just about her or me. This is bigger, and she needs to understand that.

“I don’t think you understand.” I take a step closer until we’re nearly nose to nose. “If you back out, if you refuse this arrangement, your family will be shunned from the pack. Everything your father’s tried to protect, all the debt he’s supposedly repaid with this… it’ll mean nothing. They’ll lose everything.”

She works her jaw, but she doesn’t look away. I can see the struggle there—the loyalty, the need to protect her family, and the frustration of being used as a bargaining chip. I get it. But I also know that backing down now would be a mistake I can’t afford. The council expects loyalty and cooperation from me. This is my first test as alpha, and I’m not about to fail it by rejecting their decision.

“So that’s it?” Her voice is low, biting. “You’re just going to… force this?”

I keep my expression neutral, though her words sting more than I’d like to admit. I don’t want to force anyone into anything, not really, but I don’t have a lot of options here. “This is what’s best for the pack, Isadora. The council made their decision, and I’m not about to make my first act as alpha a rejection of it.”

She laughs, but it’s a bitter, hollow sound. “I should have known,” she says, crossing her arms. “You haven’t changed one bit, have you? Still so determined to get your way, no matter who you have to step on.”

There’s a part of me that wants to deny it, to tell her that I’m different now, that this isn’t about control or pride. But I can’t ignore the truth: I need this alliance. I need the council to trust me, to see me as the leader they’ve entrusted with their pack.

I step even closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her, and I lower my voice. “It’s my turn to make something clear, Isadora. If you leave, if you break this arrangement, I’ll make sure your family pays for it.”

Her eyes widen, and anger flashes across her face, but I don’t look away. I don’t mean the threat, not completely, but I need her to understand what’s at stake here. I can’t afford for her to call my bluff.

For a moment, we’re locked there, a few inches apart, and I can feel the tension crackling between us, thick and unyielding. Her gaze drops to my mouth just for a fraction of a second, and something in my chest pulls tight. I can’t remember the last time I felt this drawn to anyone, this aware of the space between us.

But this isn’t the time and definitely not the place. I take a step back, trying to put some distance between us, trying to clear my head.

“This isn’t how I wanted things to go, Isadora. But we don’t have a choice here.”

She tilts her head, observing me like she’s wondering if I buy my own bullshit. “You have a choice, Alec. You just don’t want to make it.”

Her words cut deeper than I expect. She’s right, in a way. I could choose to walk away, to tell the council this isn’t what I want. But the idea of her—of Isadora—in my life, in my home, by my side… it’s not something I hate.

In fact, there’s a strange pull to it. A part of me wants her here. Wants her to be the one standing beside me.

And maybe that’s the real reason I’m so adamant about this.

“Maybe you’re right,” I offer, keeping my tone low, almost thoughtful. “Maybe I could walk away. But this isn’t just about what I want, or even what you want. This is about what’s best for everyone. And while I don’t know much about you, Isadora, I do know that you have always held your pack’s interest above your own. That’s a great quality for a luna to have.”

She narrows her eyes, searching my face as if she’s trying to figure out if there’s any truth to my words. I wish I could tell her everything—that this isn’t easy for me, either, that I don’t want to be the kind of alpha who forces his hand like this. But I can’t afford to show that kind of weakness. Not now.

“You think this is best for everyone?” she asks. “Or is it just what’s best for you?”

I don’t have an answer, because I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m doing this for the pack or the council, or if I’m doing it for myself. Or if I’m doing it because I can’t ignore the way she looks at me, the way some part of me wants to make up for everything I did to her, to prove that I’m not the same arrogant kid she remembers. She could have a life of luxury as an alpha’s wife.

And maybe that’s why I can’t bring myself to back down, even now.

“This is what needs to happen,” I say finally, my voice hardening. “Whether you like it or not, you’re a part of this pack. And sometimes, being part of a pack means making sacrifices.”

She stares at me, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and something else—something I can’t quite place. For a second, I wonder if she’s going to slap me, to storm out and leave this whole thing behind. Part of me almost hopes she will. It’d be easier, cleaner. But the other part of me, the part I’m not entirely proud of, wants her to stay. Wants her to understand why I’m doing this.

For a moment, I think she’s going to say something, to tell me exactly where I can shove my sacrifice speech. But then she takes a step back, crosses her arms, and lifts her chin in that defiant way that makes her look every inch the alpha’s mate she’s destined to be.

“Fine,” she says. “I’ll go along with this… for now. But don’t think for a second that I’m doing this for you.”

I gaze at those beautiful blue eyes, resisting the urge to smile. I wasn’t expecting her to do it for me. But if she’s here, if she’s willing to stay, even if it’s just for her family, that’s enough. For now.

“Good,” I reply. “Because this isn’t about me, or you. This is about what’s best for everyone.”

She scoffs, but there’s a hint of something else there, something that tells me maybe she understands. If anyone could, it’s Isadora.

Without another word, she turns and walks toward the door. And as I watch her go, I feel a strange mix of satisfaction and regret, knowing that I’ve won this round but not entirely proud of the way I played it.

But if I’m going to be the leader this pack needs, if I’m going to prove myself to the council—to everyone—this is how it has to be.