Pregnant and Rejected By My Alpha Mate: Part 3

Odette

“Woah! Slow down little one,” I call as Lila races down a steep hill. We’re in the park for our daily tea-time, which we agreed should always be a picnic on sunny days. While I’m laying out the blanket and unpacking the basket, my granddaughter is racing around the grassy meadow, burning off all her youthful energy. I don’t mind her tiring herself out, but I’d also prefer to return Selene’s pup to her in one piece.

My daughter-in-law has gone to look into buying the Full Moon Cafe, the city’s most popular bistro. Everyone knew the owners were getting on in years, but it was still a shock when the restaurant went up for sale last week. Devoted patrons across Elysium immediately went up in arms, arguing about who should take over and ensuring the beloved menu is carried over to the new owners.

It just so happens that Selene has been trying to figure out what to do with her spare time here and greatly misses the cafe she had in Asphodel, so it seems fortuitous she should take over. There is a small chance the owners won’t want to sell to her, but I think it’s more likely they’ll jump at the chance. Selene is the richest woman in the city, and she’ll take the responsibility seriously. When Selene is finished with her meeting she’ll join us for tea, but until then I get to soak up some one-on-one time with Lila.

“Gamma watch me!” Lila exclaims, doing a somersault and grinning with pride.

“Very nice,” I praise warmly, extending my arms to her. “Now come here rolly polly, don’t you want some sandwiches?”

The tiny wolf toddles over happily, “With cucumbs?!

“Yes with cucumbers,” I answer, carefully pronouncing the word so it will sink into her beautiful little head. Until two weeks ago my granddaughter had never heard of a tea sandwich, now they’re all she wants to eat, but she hasn’t quite figured out the pronunciations yet.

For a while we eat and chat in ease, me telling stories about when Bastien was little, and Lila giggling in delight over her fathers exploits. Part of me worries about putting ideas in her head, but then again, it would serve Bastien right to experience some of the chaos he put me through as a boy.

“Daddy really paint da cat?” Lila chirps happily.

“He did.” I confirm. “Bright blue – the poor thing wouldn’t go near him for weeks afterwards.”

“What was deir name?” She asks curiously.

“Mr Whisk-” I begin, only to be interrupted a moment later.

“Gamma, wha’s dat?” Lila asks suddenly, pointing across the park to a group of people gathered around a street performer.

“It looks like a musician.” I explain, scanning the crowd. “He’s playing a violin, do you know…” My voice dies in my throat. There, just off to the side of the small audience, is a woman I would recognize anywhere.

“It can’t be.” I mutter under my breath. It’s been years since I saw Odile, but she looks exactly the same. She’s dressed in all black, as if she’s still in mourning after all this time. Her once blonde hair is now silvery gray, and though her eyes are covered by sunglasses, I remember their opulent green shade perfectly.

It’s not possible. My wolf says, She was exiled, she has no business here.

It shouldn’t be possible – but there’s no mistake. I counter. I would know Odile anywhere. It’s not just her appearance, it’s the way she holds herself – her posture and way of moving. I’ve never met another woman who could appear simultaneously rigid and fluid all at once. It’s as if she’s made of pure stone, so impossibly still when standing in place, but as soon as she moves it’s with the easy grace of a summer’s breeze.

“Gamma, wha’s wong?” Lila’s little voice sounds on my right, and the next thing I know the sweet pup is crawling into my lap.

I look down to find Selene’s two-toned eyes staring up at me in concern, and offer my granddaughter a soft smile. “Nothing sweet girl,” I lie, petting her tiny cheek, “I just thought I saw somebody I knew once.”

Lila leans into my breast with a tea sandwich clasped in each plump hand, settling in and making it clear she has no intention of moving. Stroking her hair while she takes alternating nibbles of her lunch – first the sandwich in her right hand, then the one in her left and back again – I look back to the street musician.

Odile is gone.

The distinguished widow is nowhere in sight, but I’m certain it was her. I may be aging, my mind is as sharp as ever and if there was ever a face I will never forget, it’s my enemy’s. Just then I scent Selene, and a moment later my daughter-in-law is crossing the meadow in front of us, barefoot and carrying her heels in one hand.

.        She’s grinning at Lila, who is still happily munching away in my lap. “Are you so comfy that you’re not even going to come say hello to me Lila Bean?” She teases.

“Uh-huh.” Lila nods mischievously, sending us all into a fit of laughter.

“She’s a fickle little thing.” I chuckle.

Selene leans down and kisses her daughter’s hair, “Not fickle.” She reasons warmly, “Just a cuddle bug.”

“She gets that from you.” I share, gazing lovingly at the pup, “when Bastien was little I could never get him to sit still. But give this one a snuggle and she’ll be on you like glue.”

When I look up Selene is watching me closely, as if she can read my unease through my smile. She cocks her head to the side in question, and I shake my head, mouthing: later.

She nods in understanding, and I change the subject, “How did your meeting go?”

Selene’s smile is like pure sunshine, and I can scarcely believe this is the same she-wolf Bastien rescued from Garrick all those years ago. It’s even hard to believe she’s the same guarded woman I met two months ago in Asphodel. Marriage and motherhood agree with her, and now that she has her wolf back and her powers are growing, she’s finally becoming the woman she was always meant to be.

“It’s not official yet.” Selene explains, “But I made an offer and they accepted.”

“Oh sweetheart, that’s wonderful!” I congratulate her. “I suppose that means you’ll be needing someone to wrangle this munchkin on a regular basis then?” I ask, referring to the child in my arms.

“Yes,” Selene confirms, “but don’t worry, we can find a nanny if you don’t want to-”

“Over my dead body.” I growl, prompting another laugh.

“Well then,” Selene quips, reaching over to brush a few crumbs from Lila’s cheek, “I suppose that’s that.”

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Bastien

I know something is wrong the moment my mother walks into my study. She’s pale and gaunt, as if she’s seen a ghost. I’m on my feet instantly. “Mom, what’s wrong? Is it Selene? Lila?”

“No, no.” She promises, waving me off. “It’s…” She trails off, sounding uncertain, “Bastien, it’s Odile.”

“What?” I repeat in astonishment.

“I saw her in the park. It was at a distance, but I’m sure it was her.” Mom asserts firmly, “You remember how distinctive she was.”

I don’t know how to respond to this. A thousand thoughts are swirling through my mind. “Tell me everything.”

As my mother recounts the tale, my mind races. Odile was once my aunt by marriage. She married my traitorous uncle and birthed his heir Frederic, and though my father never uncovered any evidence that Odile was involved in my uncle’s attempted coup, we always expected she was an active player in the scheme.

“I believe you.” I tell Mom after she insists she’s not crazy for the dozenth time. “The question is why. Why would she come here? Why now?”

“It can’t be a coincidence.” Mom surmises. “Not with everything that’s gone wrong the last few years.”

Her words hit me like a slap across the face. All this time I’ve been struggling to understand the motive of our enemies, attributing everything to a hunger for power. However, this has always felt more personal than that. “I can’t believe I never considered this before.”

Mom nods in agreement.  “If you ask me, Arabella isn’t the only one who wanted revenge.”

Again I freeze, “What?”

“For Flynn.” Mom clarifies, as if the answer was obvious.

“Are you saying you think she targeted Selene and I because she blames me for Flynn’s death?” I question dumbly.

“Well of course,” She replies, “what did you think it was about?”

Slowly lowering myself into my chair, I bury my head in my hands. “Goddess, I’ve been so blind.” Rubbing my eyes I wonder aloud, “But if Arabella wanted revenge, why focus so much on marrying me?”

Mom purses her lips, “I think the question is what she was planning after you were mated. Who’s to say she planned on keeping you alive?”

Taking a series of deep breaths, “Selene suspected she wasn’t working alone. And we know she allied with Grigore… do you think it’s possible she also allied with Frederic and Odile?”

“I think it’s probably.” Mom confirms sadly. “They’ve all been exiled now, and while Arabella is too well known here to show her face, Frederic certainly is not.”

“He was just a child during the coup.” I recall.

“He could have been here for years and we’d never have known.” Mom agrees, “And even if he wasn’t, I’m sure he is now. Odile wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Staring at my mother in shock and horror, I say, “What the hell are we going to do?”

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