Fill Me, Alpha

13: First Trimester

Tiredly, Grey trudged into his room. He could feel his soaked jacket cling to his skin. It aggravated him, no, maybe that was because of the impending war.

He turned on the light as he looked at the alarm clock next to his bed. It was three in the morning. He grimaced; he knew there would be several later nights in the weeks to come. His eyes caught the animal on his comforter and he looked at it strangely. Walking toward it, he quickly read the tiny note attached to its neck.

New pack member arriving, Nov. 2021.

It dawned on him then what she was referring to. He had put it down in his file. Whatever he was feeling before was immediately replaced with an unadulterated need to see her. He left quickly, unbothered by his wet clothing. He went to Marisol's room and could hear the steady rhythm of her breathing. He went in without knocking, kneeling beside her bed. With his hand running through her hair, he gently whispered her name.

She startled awake but calmed as she realized who it was. "Grey?"

"It's me."

She sat up, worried. "Grey, you're soaked. Were you outside? Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine, Marisol...I...you're..."

For a moment, she looked at him with a bewildered look. But then, she smiled, nodding. "I'm pregnant. The embryo took."

Grey smiled and took her into his arms. She gently fell into his arms and between his legs as they sat on the floor, enjoying each other's company. Strangely, this was the most she felt relaxed in days. As his nose touched her locks of hair, he sighed contently. His heart fell once he realized now she would be even more of a concern; not only was she his mate, but she was also carrying his pup. "Marisol, I need you to promise me something."

She pulled away with a small pout.

"I need you to promise me that no matter what, you will always protect yourself first. If I tell you to run, you run without a second thought."

She shook her head, confused. "What do you..."

"Marisol," he pleaded, stroking her hair. "I need you to promise me."

"Greyson, what's going on?"

"Promise me, Marisol."

Hesitantly, she nodded. "I promise. Will you tell me what's going on?"

"I've put you in danger and I am so sorry."

"W-what do you mean? I told you it's not your fault, Grey."

"I haven't been entirely truthful," he said.

"You lied to me?"

"Not exactly, I just haven't told the entire truth. I do own a company and I do live in this house with my family, but they aren't blood–"

"Grey–"

"Let me finish, please. That movie you like, it was on your TV, Twilight...what if I told you it was real?"

She started laughing. "That what? You're a vampire?"

"Do you remember what Brad said? That there were stone sculptures of wolves outside?"

"Why are you saying this? Are you messing with me?"

"No, Marisol. I am telling you the absolute truth. My name is Greyson Weston and I am not a vampire. I am a lycanthrope. You are on my pack land with other lycans."

"I don't believe you," she whispered, pushing him away. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you need to know so I can keep you safe." He pleaded with her to understand that he was telling the truth. He cursed himself for a brief second. What would have been a better way to tell her? Maybe not now at three in the morning, but in his defense, there would be drastic changes to their lives and she needed to understand why. She had a right to understand what she was involved in.