Page 51 of Rejected Alpha Mate

I lower my eyes, a wave of sadness washing over me. “Yeah…but it still hurts, Cece.”

Cecelia gives my hands a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “You’ve done your time, Dons. You both have. The only way for you to move forward is for you to be open to it. Open to forgiving him.”

I look up with a feeble half-smile. “I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

Cecelia nods and accepts this, but gestures to the forest. “Are you at least ready to go back to the barbecue? I’m starving.”

I giggle as Cecelia and I get to our feet, and she’s bubblier than usual. I pause to frown at her, my eyes flickering to her belly.

“You’re pregnant again, aren’t you?!” I gasp, and she quickly presses a finger to my lips.

“We both have secrets to keep from Dom,” she whispers. “I don’t wanna tell him right now. He has so much going on.”

I nod slowly, knowing exactly what Cecelia means, because it’s the same for me—it’s why I can’t tell my brother about what happened between Nicholas and me last summer.

The whole ordeal with the dark warlock is a dark cloud hanging over all of us, and it’s evident to see when we return to Nicholas’s house and find everyone at the barbecue discussing Tobias and the imminent threat we’re facing.

“Alpha Beaumont hasn’t found anything on Tobias,” Dominic tells the group, and my heart falls with dread.

“Yeah, well, that wasn’t his pack,” Sean reminds us. “If he’s covering his tracks, he wouldn’t dare go back to Loups de Lune.”

It’s still unimaginable that Tobias was faking his identity the whole time, and while we attended the same college for four years, he was living a double life as a lone wolf out there.

As I stand at the back quietly, I notice that Nicholas isn’t outside with the others. I wander toward Delilah, leaning in and whispering in her ear, “Where’s Nick?”

Delilah shields her mouth with one hand and whispers back, “He’s in the house. His father called him to speak to him privately.”

I nod slowly, brows furrowing slightly as I consider this, wondering what they’re speaking about.

While the barbecue continues outside, my restlessness grows until I find myself sauntering toward the house. As soon as I enter, I can hear their voices drifting faintly into the hallway from Nicholas’s study. I tiptoe closer, curiosity winning out and making me press my ear to the wall.

“I don’t see what the big rush is, Father,” Nicholas says, sounding disgruntled.

“Your pack is waiting on you, Nicholas. Or have you forgotten that you have a pack to run?”

“I have not forgotten, Father,” Nicholas sighs. “But the impending threat affects us just as much as it affects my friends. With Donna emerging as a witch, this is the kind of pressure I can’t put on her.”

My chest tightens when I hear him defend me, even if I don’t know what he’s defending me about.

“Well, I gave in to your request to marry her in the first place, despite my better judgment. Do not disappoint me in this, Nicholas.”

I hear movement, shuffling, as Nolan Bartalow gets to his feet from a chair, and I quickly dodge behind the wall, rounding the corner and bolting for the kitchen before he sees me. His footsteps echo down the hallway until he leaves from the front porch, and I let out the breath I’d been holding.

Nicholas appears soon after, dragging his feet into the kitchen and briefly glancing at me, shoulders slouched.

“Hey…you’re not outside with the others,” he comments, voice sulky as he heads to the bar.

“I, er—” Hesitating, my eyes flicker around until I spot the serving tray on the counter. “I just came to grab those,” I say, pointing toward the tray.

Nicholas nods halfheartedly as he pulls out a bottle of strong liquor from the cabinet. His behavior after meeting with his father is strange, and I only caught the tail end of their conversation, so I don’t know what Nolan wants from him—or me, for that matter.

Whatever it is, it’s affecting Nicholas, and he pours himself a straight glass of bourbon.

“You know, there are beers outside,” I say with a gentle giggle.

Nicholas turns to me, offers me a half-smile, and lifts the bottle. “You want one?”

I should probably say no and return to the barbecue, but there’s something soft, sullen, and desperate in Nicholas’s eyes that has me agreeing. Maybe if I stick around, he’ll tell me what’s going on and what his father wanted. Or maybe I’ll just stick around to be the kind of support he needs right now—because he definitely looks like he needs a friend.