The Mystical Attraction of Alpha

Cora

I blow lightly on my cup of tea, doing my best to cool it and concentrate on the book that’s open in my lap. But even as I try, my eyes continually drift to the picture window in front of me that overlooks the front of our property, including the driveway where Roger’s going to pull in any minute now.

At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself for the past two hours.

I sigh, frustrated. I sent him a text a while ago asking him to let me know when he’d be home not that I really need to know, I just…wanted to know.

But Roger is notoriously bad at keeping an eye on his phone, and I know that he and Sinclair have had a particularly stressful day today. So, I’do my best to just…exercise my patience.

But I sigh because, even though patience is usually one of my virtues…

Today? I’m finding it a little hard.

Happy!

The baby’s little tap comes skipping down the bond out of nowhere, and I burst into a grin, looking down at myself.

“Oh, so are you liking the ginger tea, little guy?” I ask, laughing a little as I stroke a hand over my belly.

He doesn’t respond because…well, because I asked him out loud, and he can’t hear me, but I smile nonetheless, taking another sip.

Happy? I ask, sending the word and the feeling down the bond to him.

His answer comes back in an instant. Happy happy!

I laugh again, desperately pleased at this, and wondering what’s going to come next with him. Because he’s getting bigger, I can almost feel him growing by the day, and soon he’s going to start feeling all sorts of new things. But will he even have words for them? Will we feel them before he does, and be able to pass the same emotions back and forth, asking questions like we do with happy? Will it be –

But even as I ponder it, excited, headlights flash across the drive and my face bursts into a grin.

taking another sip of my tea before putting it down on the coffee table as I watch Roger park the car, and step

watching his every step and continuing to stroke my stomach.

pulses, making me laugh

is anything but happy,

kid – already with his jokes. God, I

pushing it shut behind him and already looking up the stairs, clearly intent on going right up and not even noticing

me, stopping so fast in

in here?”

say, my voice deep with sarcasm. “Am I… not allowed to sit in our

hanging his head for a second and running a hand through his hair before looking up at me again. ” I’m sorry,” he says, and I can tell

hell of a day?” I

sighs, and

reaching for him and folding my legs to make space on the

up the stairs.

little still. ”

says, hanging his head again, almost begging for a moment. “I just want to go to

Roger’s tough shell, he revealed himself to be funny, and sweet, and full of jokes. This Roger, which exists even beneath that? Earnest,

this side…he must

his side in a second. “Sure,” I

my mate nods to me once, tugging on my hand and pulling me up

say much as when we get up to the bedroom, instead moving smoothly through our evening routine. Roger gives a quick kiss before heading to the bathroom to take a short shower, washing off the day. I’m silent as I change into my nightgown, laying out a pair of pajama pants on the bed for him,

I turn on the fire because I want the warmth and a little light to see by, but otherwise shut off all the lights and climb into bed, waiting, idly stroking

of the bathroom a few minutes later, his face serious and his eyes far-off, thinking through something that I know he’ll tell me about in a few minutes when he’s ready. I can’t help admiring him

head a little and smirks

What am I supposed to do when he shows up all naked in bedroom, the fire highlighting the carved lines of his body in a flickering orange

pants on and moves to his side of the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping beneath them. I scootch across the mattress, pressing myself

murmur, running my fingers through his still-damp hair and cooing softly to him in a way

most of our relationship is based on a great deal of laughter and teasing. But tonight? Tonight, I can tell he needs

know he likes. And Roger, to my content, starts almost to purr with the pleasure of it. Interestingly, for how much we usually want to tear into each other, there’s not too much