Pregnant and Rejected by My Alpha Mate novel Chapter 155

Chapter 155- Bastien Takes Care of Arabella

Bastien

All I ever seem to do these days is pace.

Pace, scour the news from Elysium and try to figure out what hell I’m going to do. I cannot stomach the idea of standing by and doing nothing, but Arabella gets so frantic every time I mention going back or taking action that I’ve learned to cool my temper around her.

It’s strange, I’ve witnessed a thousand of Bella’s tantrums over the years, but she’s never been a cowardly wolf. No, her fits have almost always been about not getting her way, this is the first time I’ve ever seen her so beside herself out of fear. She must have been terribly traumatized to be this afraid, and things must be even worse in Elysium then I realized if she feels she has no allies there. I still find it hard to believe my mother, Aiden and Donovan would all be so easily fooled by Selene, but everything I read in the papers or see on TV backs up what Arabella says.

The pack is about ready to throw me out as Alpha, and my so-called mate is nowhere to be found. If anything, she stirs up the discontent by making herself a victim at the expense of my absence. Unfortunately the cable was out last week during the press conference she gave, but

Arabella showed me the papers the next day, which detailed how my wife bemoaned my negligence and blamed me for everything going wrong at home.

I don’t want to upset Arabella, but I cannot allow this to go on, I have to return home and expose my cousin and traitorous wife. I’m supposed to be here planning my next move, but every time I think of a new idea, Arabella shoots it down. I admit she knows the current situation better than I do, but I think I’ve been letting her fear guide us both, and that cannot continue.

My wolf goes on high alert when I smell Bella drawing near the apartment and hear her crying. I’m automatically bracing myself for danger when she stumbles into the room, bruised and sobbing. “Bella!” Rushing to her side, I lock the door behind her and gather her up, trying to

get a look at her even as she collapses into my arms. “What happened?”

“It was Blaise.” She wails, sniffling loudly, “He called an audience with me and I thought it was just to talk about the state dinner next week, but it wasn’t.”

“Blaise did this?!” I demand fiercely, finally pushing her off of me long enough to get a look at the dark bruise blooming across her cheek. What kind of a man hits and innocent woman? I think in horror, what kind of Alpha treats his subjects that way?

The same kind that would lock all the poor and diabled people in an underground prison and ban them from mixing with their “betters”. Axel supplies with a snarl.

“Yes!” Arabella cries, “oh Bastien, he was terrifying. He’s been having me followed, he said he knew I’d been exploring the city, going to the underground. He said he didn’t give me permission to roam Tartarus at will and threatened to kill me if I crossed him again.”

“What?” Tutter in disbelief, that’s insane.”

“He’s insane!” Arabella agreed. “it’s only a blessing he didn’t see us together. We can’t risk you leaving the house again, or he might kill us both.”

As guilty as I feel for thinking it, I can’t help but feel Arabella is being hysterical. First because breaking a law and going to the underground is a far cry from merely stepping outside one’s own front door – especially when Blaise has no idea who I am. Second because regardless of the threat it may pose, I have zero intention of lying down and letting a tyrant walk all over me. And third, because none of this makes any sense. I mean, I know Blaise is a ruthless tyrant, but I have to be missing some detail here. Why would he care so much about a random she-wolf who doesn’t even belong to his pack defying him? Why would it matter if he saw another visitor staying with her.

She’s not telling us everything. Axel reasons, far more calmly than I would have expected him to feel under the circumstances. That’s the only explanation

“Come here,” I encourage Arabella gently, guiding her to the kitchen, “Let me take a look at your cheek.”

As we move across the room I realize Arabella is limping, so I sweep her up into my arms and set her on the counter. “Just breath Bella.” | encourage. “Can you do that for me?”

The sobbing blonde heaves in a few gulps of breath, and when her shaking has lessened, I prompt her to start from the beginning.

“It’s like I told you,” She chokes, “He called me for an audience and attacked me.”

Though bruised, her cheek looks as if it will heel relatively quickly. Based on my own battle experience, I’d say he walloped her pretty hard, but only struck once. At least the bastard is capable of that much restraint. “Okay, where else are you hurt?” I ask, looking her over.

“Just my cheek and my ankle.” She sniffs, her lips trembling dangerously

Moving to examine her ankle, I can’t find anything visibly wrong with it, but presume it must be a sprain.