Pregnant and Rejected by My Alpha Mate novel Chapter 175

Selene

Helene and I waiter patiently until Arabella left her opu lent apartment at the city center. It felt almost like being a part of one of the mystery shows I love watching at home. We staked out the apartment for hours, munching on un healthy junk food and staring at the building’s front doors until our vision seemed blurry.

Finally Arabella emerged, departing with the air of a so cialite off on some sultry affair – dressed to the nines and slinking off towards the pack house.

“There she goes!” Helene whispers excitedly, “Go on now, I’ll stand watch.”

“Now, already?” This was all happening much too fast for me to process. I thought I might reconnect with Bastien in a few days, after an extended mission watching their apartment. I’m not ready to face him now. Still, my mentor seems only too eager for me to take this step.

“Yes now!” Helene scoffs, “This is what we’ve been pre paring for you silly thing.”

“Okay,” | mutter, drawing in a deep breath. “Okay, you’ re right.”

Dashing across the street, I follow Bastien’s scent up stairs, climbing flight after flight rather than attempting to use the elevator – on which I would have had to press every button in order to catch my mate’s scent. Striding to the apartment door, I heave in a few deep breaths, attempting to calm myself before facing my mate.

In the end I don’t even have to knock. The door swings open in front of me, and Bastien appears – fuming, hand some beyond reason and with eyes full of hatred, “What are you doing here?” He demands.

“I wanted to talk to you.” | confess. “I have a message from Lila.”

“Lila.” He says her name in that same dazed manner he had when we met in the alley.

“Do you remember Lila?” | ask hesitantly. “Do you re member me?”

“Of course I remember you.” He growls, dragging me inside and pushing me up against the closed door. “You de stroyed our lives. You tricked me into thinking Frederic’s bastard was my own.”

“No Bastien, I mean: do you remember meeting me in Tartarus the other day?” i clarify. “Do you remember talking to me and meeting Helene?”

“What are you talking about?” He demands, “the last time I saw you we were in Elysium.”

“You saw me two days ago.” | inform him softly, shaking my head with worry. “We were in an alley a few blocks from here. You told me about the dream you had while you were sick last week.”

His powerful hands soften on my body as his brow fur rows in confusion. “How do you know about that?”

“Because you told me.” I say again, resisting the urge to reach out to him. “We talked about the news and Frederic, Arabella tried to make you reject me but the night watch men came around before you could.”

“Arabella was there?” Bastien rumbles, looking com pletely beside himself.

“Yes.” | confirm gently, “She followed you when you left the house.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.” He groans, releasing me and scrubbing his hand over his face.

“Bastien, I think she’s doing something to your memo ry.” | tell him, moving forward when he retreats deeper into the apartment. “The things she’s been telling you aren’t true. A lot has changed in the last six years, she’s not the girl you remember.”

He slumps down on the sofa, “she has been behaving oddly – unlike herself, but that’s your doing.” He accuses, eyeing me fiercely. “Yours and Blaise.”

The name of the Calypso Alpha sends a flicker of un ease through my veins, “what does Blaise have to do with any of this?”

“She came here for his help, but he’s turned out to be a monster. He wants to make her his mistress and she’s terri fied he’ll force himself on her.” He explains.

I relax slightly, relieved that she hasn’t told him about me or Lila and praying she never finds out about his boun ty. “Then why are you still here?” | question, “If she’s that afraid of him, why haven’t you taken her back to Elysium yet?”

“We can’t go back yet.” Bastien announces, sounding as if he’s reciting lines from a play; things he doesn’t feel of believe, but somehow knows he’s supposed to say. “You

and Frederic have made it impossible.”

“This is what was playing on every news station the week you got mysteriously ill, Bastien.” I share, kneeling in front of him and resting my hands on his knees. “Arabella didn’t want you to see it, so she must have made you sick so you’d miss the coverage.”

“My eyes.” | confirm, “when they’re not disguised. And your smile.” I point out, nodding towards the phone. “She’s yours, Bastien – you can see it plain as day.” Pressing my hand to my belly, I add. “And so is this one.”

Swiping over, I pull up the last video I requested, one Odette sent not a half hour ago. “If you won’t believe me, maybe you‘ll believe them.” I suggest, pressing play.