Page 18 of The Alpha’s Forced Omega (Alaska Alpha Wolves #1)

Confirming that Aurora is pregnant was both exciting and overwhelming all at once.

I still have reason to believe that she doesn’t trust me.

Her wary frown that night when her powers went out of control and she burned down my parents’ house was enough to tell me that she couldn’t feel the mate bond shackling our wrists together as if we’d been restrained by the Moon Goddess Herself.

I’d felt it, and if I had any doubts before, I was certain of it at that moment—Aurora was my fated mate. But what was more invigorating was confirming that she was pregnant, and now all I want to do is be around her so I can keep her safe.

Gently kicking the door open since both my hands are full, I smile when Aurora stirs in her sleep, her eyelids opening up just a crack.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” I greet sweetly, prompting Aurora to open her eyes fully before squinting to adjust them to the morning light. When she notices me coming in with breakfast, she pulls herself upright, appearing tense and wary when she pulls the covers over her chest.

“Wh-where are we?” she asks groggily, blinking fervently as she scans the room with skeptical eyes.

“We’re in my private cabin,” I reveal, carefully walking to the bed and placing the trays on the nightstand.

“Your private cabin?” Aurora frowns, her eyes flitting between me and the food I’d prepared for her.

Nodding, I lift a plate of freshly picked fruit from the market in Hope, nudging her to take it. “Yeah. You passed out after the fire last night.”

“Right,” she nods and takes the plate with tentative fingers.

Carefully inspecting her reaction, I notice her discomfort and wonder what it’s about. Of course, there’s an elephant in the room that needs to be addressed, but I wonder if she’ll just become defensive about it, as she always does when I try speaking to her.

She appears more timid now, though, a glint in her eyes indicating her remorse about what happened to my parents’ home despite my insistence that it was just a house and her life was more important.

Now, it’s the addition of our child’s life that takes precedence over everything else.

Tentatively popping a rich, vibrant grape between her lips as she stares out ahead of her, I clear my throat, but her eyes only flicker at me before she looks away again.

“Do you…Do you remember what happened last night?”

A nervous blush crawls up her cheeks. “I, um—” she breaks off with a gulp. “I burned your house down when I was trying to use my powers,” she admits in a terse murmur.

“Do you remember what happened after?” I pressed on, hopeful that she might remember what it felt like when power radiated from her belly and allowed me to feel the effects of the mate bond through our touch.

She nods hesitantly. “We discovered that I’m…that I’m…”

“Pregnant?”

She nods again, this time wincing and closing her eyes as if she’s embarrassed.

“That’s all you remember?”

When she nods a third time, I take a deep breath. Of course, she didn’t feel the mate bond as strongly as I did. But I won’t give up.

As I offer a hand to her, Aurora slowly turns her eyes on my outstretched arm, her gaze lifting until she meets my eyes.

“You’re not upset that I burned down the house?” she asks with a wary frown.

I shake my head. “No.” Glancing around the room, I chuckle lightly. “On the contrary, I think the humble conditions of my old cabin could do you some good. So you can get enough rest without feeling like you need to be doing anything.”

She closes her eyes and sighs, then hangs her head in shame. “I’m sorry, Alpha Elias. I won’t use my powers ever again.”

“That’s not what I meant, Aurora,” I sigh with a heavy heart. It would make things so much easier if she realized that we’re fated mates. She’s always thinking the worst, setting herself up for disappointment. While I know I only have myself to blame, I wish she didn’t think so poorly of me.

I just have to work harder.

“While I do think it’s important that you’re practicing your craft as a witch, I would like to see you resting now that we know you're pregnant,” I admit, gesturing to my outstretched hand. “I’d like to show you around if that’s okay?”

My unintrusive question prompts her to soften her eyes as she nods sheepishly, tentatively placing her hand in mine so I can help her climb off the bed. When she’s on her feet, I hesitate, not knowing if I should keep holding her hand or let it go.

The awkward tension between us is amplified by the heightened sensations of our physical contact, and it’s too strong to ignore.

At least, for me, I’m unable to get much control of my inner wolf, who wants nothing more than to pull Aurora into my embrace—something that her hesitation and distrust have denied me.

Our eyes meet unexpectedly, and for a moment, the tension dissipates and leaves room for the mulling of all the possibilities there could be between us.

My strongest impulse isn’t the need to pull her close and taste her lips, or strip her down and administer pleasure to her body, but it’s to keep her protected.

Aurora gently tugs her hand, drawing it out of my grasp as she averts her eyes and finds the old rug on the floor to stare at. I’m able to breathe then, not swept up in the whirlwind of her intoxicating scent or bound by the warmth of her fingers.

“I’d like to show you around my humble abode,” I say, hoping that the gesture will allow her to feel comfortable in the old cabin.

“Sure,” she says, her voice void of any emotion that might give away how she’s feeling right now.

She has no idea who or what she is to me, but I have to exercise patience.

My only concern is that she might try to run away, and I can’t risk that while she’s pregnant with my child.

That’s why I have to ease her into things, hoping she’ll warm up to me and trust that I want nothing more than to protect both her and our child.

Last night, I had time to mull over everything, realizing the weight of my responsibilities as the alpha who will now bring a child into this pack.

Though I haven’t figured out how the prophecy will prove to be true, and if our child will be the key in defeating the demon, that’s not why I have duties to uphold.

It’s my child, and my primal instinct is to protect what’s mine and give my all to being its father.

But it starts with growing a deeper bond with the child’s mother.

I walk through the doorway, hearing Aurora’s footsteps behind me as she follows me into the dimly lit cabin that resembles the one Aurora lived in.

I show her around, explaining why the exists on the outskirts of our little werewolf town, how it was a place of sanctity when I needed an escape from the extensive training we endured as bright-eyed young werewolves, and how having an isolated place of my own gave my parents privacy whenever they needed to celebrate special occasions.

“On the anniversary of their mating ritual, they treated it like a wedding anniversary and Mom would decorate the whole house, and cook Dad’s favorite meal,” I explain when we’re in the kitchen.

“She’d pack some of the food, and I’d have it here.

” I point at the table that holds some memories for me.

“They loved each other very much, didn’t they?” Aurora smiles nervously. “And now I’ve gone and destroyed their house.”

Shaking my head slowly, I contemplate whether I should go over and reassure her that losing the house is the least of my concerns. I decide to round the table, only getting close enough so she can hear my softer tone when I whisper,

“Mom and Dad loved each other very much, that’s true.

But the house they built together was just a shell of that love when they died,” I sigh, feeling the pain of losing both my parents in the span of a year rekindle its flames.

I’d buried that feeling almost seventeen years ago when it happened, not wanting to revisit the heartbreak of losing two loving parents just before stepping into the role of the pack’s leader.

Mom had developed a chronic illness over the years, and it was bearable until it caught up with her.

When she died, my father couldn’t handle the heartbreak of losing his fated mate.

A broken heart manifested as a disease that took his life shortly after she died.

But he’d died long before his body followed, spending every waking moment beside her tombstone until it was time for him to be buried beside her grave.

I can’t fathom what it would be like to lose one’s fated mate. It’s the strongest bond that any werewolf can feel—not a choice made by a wolf, but by its creator.

That’s why the need to protect Aurora is the strongest, most intense feeling I’ve ever had, and we haven’t become fully aware of our fated mate bond.

Until Aurora finds it within her when she discovers the full impact of her powers, she’ll never know how deeply I care for her, how much I simply must protect her.

“What mattered the most was the love between them, not a building,” I go on.

“It may be gone, but the memories of their love thrive in the man they left behind. And right now, all that man wants is to protect his own mate and their child. Please, Aurora…” I lift my eyes and smile wistfully.

“Stop running. I cannot protect you if you’re not here.

” My heart skips a dreadful beat when I recall how distraught I’d been when I heard about the fire, thinking about nothing but Aurora’s life even before I knew she was pregnant. If something had happened…

I would have easily gone down the same path my father did, a part of him dying along with his mate.

A chill runs down my spine at the mere thought of that. I can’t imagine losing Aurora, my inner wolf shriveling up at the thought.

While the silence around us stretches for miles, Aurora keeps her eyes pinned to the floor. She opens her mouth to say something, but it’s not the response I was looking for.

“Once again, I apologize for burning down the house, Alpha Elias,” she whispers flatly. “I feel terrible about it, and I promise I won’t burn down your cabin. I will be more careful from now on.”

My heart does a strange flip that leaves me feeling empty. Why is she apologizing again?

She’s avoiding speaking from her heart and being wary all over again. Feeling despondent and disappointed, I hang my head bashfully.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to rest a little more,” Aurora says softly. “Last night took its toll on me.”

“Of course,” I reply immediately, holding out a hand, the gesture ignored when Aurora turns and walks toward the bedroom.

“Aurora…” I call out after her, prompting her to pause.

“Yes, Elias?”

“There’s, um—only one bedroom in the cabin. I’ll take the couch in the living room.”

A moment of hesitant silence passes before Aurora turns with a feeble smile on her face. “You don’t need to do that. The bed is big enough for both of us,” she says before turning and disappearing into the bedroom.

I’m left staring after her, wondering where this hot-and-cold behavior comes from. She hasn’t been open with me about her feelings, her fears, and her hopes about the pregnancy.

I push aside my worries; all that matters is that Aurora is here now. I just sent Dillon a mind link to inform the beta that I won’t be attending today’s training session, and he’ll have to handle it by himself.

If Aurora is going to bed, so am I.