Pregnant And Rejected

Pregnant And Rejected By My Alpha Mate By Caroline Above Chapter 57

Selene’s POV

From the first moment I learned about the mating mark, I’ve always felt defective. Nevermind that the information came from a flock of bitter she wolves, their words always rang true in my heart. If Bastien truly wanted me, he would have marked me from the beginning.

When i found out that we were truly mates, the wound deepened, like a knife driving in to the hilt with the realization that the loss of Luna had also cost me my fate. If I wasn’t so broken, Bastien would have marked me whether he loved me or not; there is no other way with Alpha’s, they mark what they see as theirs on principle.

There are no words to describe how worthless something would have to be for such possessive creatures to give up their stake. So that’s what I was exactly what Garrick always said: worthless.

It never mattered to me that Luna was gone. I still wanted his mark.

I still needed it.

I just didn’t understand it. I couldn’t understand until Luna returned, and I realized there was still an empty pocket in my heart, one neither my daughter nor my wolf could fill. I thought I simply missed my husband, then Bastien came to Asphodel and I knew what I’d been missing all this time.

Now I’m finally on the verge of filling that void, of fulfilling the destiny the Goddess penned in my name, and it can’t come fast enough. Part of me hates Bastien for failing to see my value when we were married. I want to kick, and scream that I’m the same person I’ve always been. But the other, stronger, part of me needs this like oxygen.

No matter how much fury I still harbor for this man, I cannot undo the threads of fate. My entire existence has been building to this point, and feeling Bastien’s fangs on my flesh is enough to push me over the edge, sending me into rapture before he can pierce my skin.

One second more and it would have been done, but then a blaring alarm shatters the heated moment, a deafening screech that pulls Bastien back from my neck even as I quiver and shake in the throws of ecstacy.

His head goes on a swivel; eyes, ears, and nose all on high alert for a threat. When I finally come down from my high, the fear takes me, slowly eroding my bliss and replacing it with gut wrenching memories of smoke-filled closets. “Fire.” I gasp, shock rocketing through my body with paralyzing effect.

Lila! I think desperately, but then Bastien is shushing me gently, “It’s not a fire, little wolf.”

croak, finding

me, turning off the water and pulling me from the

myself first. I follow him down the hall, dressing as I go, “What’s

my pup now sits up in bed, rubbing her eyes and looking close to tears. He gathers her up and eases her

on

kissing her hair, “We’re going to make it better, just

frustration clear on their faces. “We don’t know what set it off,

protectively over me while I buckle Lila into her car seat. “I don’t trust

of us to stay behind to

answers without hesitation, “I want every guard we have on Selene and

words and tone hammering

monitor the back seat as we drive, and Bastien’s hand clasped firmly around mine on the center console. “You’re going to make yourself sick,

my agitation is probably upsetting her. Pups are so sensitive to the emotions of adults, my panic can only make things worse. I turn

lie shakily,

eyes on me, and his warm hand leaves mine. Just as I’m about to complain, the massive paw closes around my nape. “We‘re safe, Selene.”

the dominant hold out of muscle memory. Bastien trained the response into me from our very first days together, using it to steady me when I spiral and defer to his strength when I feel like I have

need to explain what’s happening to him, the way I might to Drake or another wolf. He knows what I need without asking, and I couldn’t

yet, but she was there. She was there and she was dying with me.

the back of my neck grows borderline painful, does the suffocating heat which engulfs me fade back into the past where it belongs. “That’s it,” The tension seeps out of me bit by bit, my mate’s touch anchoring me to the

seat, swirling with rage, though I know it isn’t directed

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