Pregnant And Rejected

Chapter 19 Bastien Doesn’t Answer My Calls

the scent which startles me, but the realization that I’m smelling it at all. Ever since I lost Luna my wolf senses have been nonexistent – I should not be able to smell anyone this way.

What should and should not be quickly ceases to matter as the man from the bus appears in front of me. He is easily a foot taller than me, with thick black hair and icy blue eyes. At least twenty years my senior, he closes in, “Hello beautiful.”

My heart stops, and I back away carefully, once again inevitably frustrated by Bastien not picking up his phone when I needed him. “Hello.”

A wide smile splits his cheeks, “Oh come on, don’t look like that sweetheart. I want us to be friends”

I shake my head. “I’m not interested.”

“How can you say that when you don’t even know me?” He counters, his ogling stare belying the reasonable tone of his voice.

“I know because I’m married.” I say, sounding much braver than I feel.

“Not for long from the way I hear it.” He replies gruffly. “What’s wrong, the Alpha doesn’t want you anymore angel?”

“Whatever may be happening in the future, at this moment I am still your Alpha’s wife.” I remind him. “Whether he loves me or hates me, if you put your hands on me, you will be challenging him directly.”

so?” The

“Yes.” I insist.

“I don’t think so. If he cared about you he wouldn’t

my wrist, jerking me into an alleyway. I try to cry out but his hand clamps down over my mouth. I thrash against him, biting down on his palm. He jerks away with a pained yelp, then delivers a harsh backhanded slap across my face. I lurch to

he looms over my vulnerable body. His hand reaches toward me, coming within inches of my throat before he is propelled backwards,

gasps. Drake Cavanaugh stands over the man, his booted foot crushing the stranger’ s

at her.” My would be assaulter babbles in

his attention back to his prey. “And

helps me to my feet, waiting for him to jerk awake and attack once more. But he does not move, he lies there on the pavement, blood trickling from his lips. I try to scrub the image

says with a kind smile, “But you seem like a magnet for

laugh, but my nerves are too frayed. “You’re not wrong.” I

You didn’t do anything wrong whatsoever.” He frowns,

my head. “He won’t pick up.” I’ve called Bastien half a dozen times over the past couple of days,

can do for

steadying breath. “You

tea shop, sipping a mug of chamomile and willingly answering the bevy of questions that have poured from

twice in under a week. Of course this is not a guarantee that he is a good person or anyone suitable to confide in,

forward. “Because I’m not staying in Elysium