
Alpha Rejected Me While Pregnant
Chapter 3
The grain supplier's contract sat in front of me like a confession. Three years of inflated prices, phantom delivery fees, quality downgrades that nobody had bothered to audit. I'd found it in less than two days.
"They're robbing you blind," I said, sliding the annotated pages across Caleb's desk. "Has been for years."
Caleb's office was all dark wood and leather, windows overlooking the training grounds. He stood at those windows now, his back to me, shoulders rigid. When he finally turned, his pale eyes were cold.
"How much?"
"Conservatively? Two point three million over the contract term."
His jaw tightened. "And you can fix this."
It wasn't a question.
"I can renegotiate. Get you better terms, better suppliers. But you'll need to be there—show strength, make it clear the old regime is over." I tapped the contract. "They've been taking advantage because nobody was watching the numbers."
Something flickered across his face. Respect, maybe. Or calculation.
We spent the next hour going through strategy. I coached him on pressure points, negotiation tactics, the exact phrases that would make the supplier sweat. Caleb was a quick study—sharper than Cyrus had ever been, though I hated myself for the comparison.
Then the pain hit.
Sharp and sudden, like a fist closing around my spine. I gasped, my hand flying to my stomach. The pup kicked frantically, and my wolf whimpered—that thin, dying sound that terrified me more than anything.
"Lyra—"
Caleb was around the desk before I could blink, his hands hovering near me but not touching. And then—
Sandalwood and rain.
The scent rolled off him in waves, thick and grounding. It wrapped around me like a physical thing, sinking into my lungs, my bones. The pain didn't disappear, but it softened. Dulled. My wolf stirred, lifting her head for the first time in days.
I froze.
Caleb froze.
Our eyes locked, and I saw the exact moment he realized what I did. Compatible auras. The kind that only happened between potential mates.
Second Chance mates.
"I—" My voice came out strangled. "I should go."
I fled before he could respond.
---
Two days later, Marcus brought news from Silverclaw.
"It's a disaster," he said, dropping into the chair across from me in the cottage. "Selene fired the entire household staff. Replaced them with her friends—none of whom know what they're doing. The treasury's hemorrhaging money on parties and renovations."
I should have felt satisfaction. Instead, I just felt tired.
"And Cyrus?"
"Tried to access the emergency funds. Couldn't get past your encryption." Marcus's smile was grim. "He's drinking. Heavily. The visiting Alphas are mocking him openly—Selene doesn't know basic Luna protocol. She served the Northern Ridge Alpha's mate tap water at a formal dinner."
I winced despite myself. That was a massive insult.
"There's more," Marcus said quietly. "He found out you're here. Cut off your roaming accounts—all of them."
My stomach dropped. Those accounts had been my safety net, the one thing Cyrus couldn't touch because they were in my maiden name.
Except apparently he could.
"He sent Caleb a formal demand," Marcus continued. "Called you a traitor. Accused you of corporate espionage. Demanded your return."
The room tilted slightly. Return. To what? To watch Selene wear my crown while carrying Cyrus's child?
"What did Caleb say?"
Marcus's grin was feral. "Marked it as spam. Then invited you to dinner at the main Pack House. Tonight."
---
The perimeter walk was supposed to clear my head.
It didn't.
The cold bit through my borrowed jacket—too thin, too worn. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to generate warmth that wouldn't come. My wolf was too weak to help regulate my temperature anymore.
I should go back. Should rest like Elena kept telling me to.
But the cottage felt too small, too quiet. Out here, I could breathe.
"You're going to freeze to death."
I spun. Caleb stood ten feet away, his expression thunderous. He must have been watching from somewhere—the Pack House balcony, maybe.
Before I could respond, he closed the distance and wrapped something heavy and warm around my shoulders.
His coat.
The Alpha's coat, lined with fur, still carrying his body heat. Still saturated with that sandalwood-and-rain scent that made my wolf lift her head and whine.
"Caleb, I can't—"
"You can." His voice was rough. "And you will."
A young warrior passed us, his eyes lingering on me for a second too long. Caleb's growl was immediate and vicious, his Alpha aura slamming out like a physical blow. The warrior dropped his gaze and practically ran.
We stood there in the cold, me drowning in his coat, him radiating barely controlled aggression.
"You need to rest," he said finally.
"I need to work."
"Lyra—"
"I can't stop." The words burst out before I could stop them. "If I stop, I'll think. And if I think—"
I'll remember that I'm alone. That my mate rejected me. That I'm raising a pup whose father wanted us dead.
Caleb's hand moved, hovering inches from my stomach. Not touching. Just... there. The air between his palm and my bump crackled with something electric.
"The pup will never be without protection," he said quietly. "I promise you that."
It wasn't a declaration. Wasn't a claim.
But it felt like both.
I looked up at him, this brutal, scarred Alpha who'd given me sanctuary when he should have killed me. His pale eyes held mine, and I saw something there I didn't have a name for.
Something that terrified me more than Cyrus's rejection ever had.
Because this—whatever this was—felt real.
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