Alpha Mendoza

Chapter 10

Alessia:

I barely had time to pull the blanket up before the door swung open again.

Seraphina stepped inside like she owned the building.

“Hurry up,” she snapped. “You’re being moved.”

My heart lurched. “Moved? Why? I thought that I was going to stay here for the next few… Grace didn’t tell me anything about moving. Why would I trust…?”

“Grace doesn’t make housing decisions,” Seraphina said sharply. “I do. And whether not you trust anyone here is the least of my concerns.”

Lie.

Sage snarled immediately. She’s puffing her feathers. And she is angry that you are getting the attention that she craves.

Seraphina gestured to two attendants behind her. “Take her things.”

“I… I don’t have things,” I said weakly, glancing around the bare room.

“Then take her,” she said coolly. “Provide clothing as well. She reeks as it is.”

Before I could protest, the attendants helped me stand. My legs trembled beneath me, the sedative still wearing off.

Seraphina smirked. “Careful. Wouldn’t want you to collapse again. The Alpha would be… upset. You know, you are carrying his heir, and the only sole purpose of your living right now is to protect that child.”

Something in her tone made my stomach twist. “Where am I going?”

“You are going where you are guided. You don’t get to ask questions.”

“Am I not supposed to be a guest? I am not a prisoner.” I said, and she scoffed, nodding at the attendants to make sure that I followed.

We walked through the halls, her heels clicking arrogantly, her hair swishing like a triumph flag.

I expected the maternity wing. Or the lower floors. Somewhere out of the way.

Instead, we stopped in a place that had Sage whimper… the Alpha’s private corridor.

He wants us closer to him. Sage said, purring lightly.

My breath caught. “No. This can’t be...”

“Yes.” Seraphina smiled tightly. “This is going to be your room. It should be comfortable given your state.”

The attendants opened the door.

Lavender sheets. Warm lighting. Soft blankets. A fireplace.

The room was beautiful.

Safe.

Close.

Sage inhaled deeply.

His scent is everywhere… I want to stay here forever.

“No,” I whispered. “No, I can’t stay here. This is wrong. You said that I am going to be staying in a maternity wing. What am I doing here?”

Seraphina’s eyes gleamed with triumph. “Oh, you’ll stay. The Alpha made an… executive decision. It was not my choice. I wonder if you were the one who spoke to him.”

My stomach twisted. This wasn’t generosity. This wasn’t care.

This was territory. Power. Claiming. And I wanted to run.

Seraphina leaned in, lips by my ear. “Don’t get excited. It doesn’t mean anything. This room is simply for convenience. Once the child is born, you’re leaving through the same door you just walked in. Until then, you will be able to enjoy the small attention you’re getting.”

My pulse hammered.

She pulled back, smiling sweetly. “I hope you enjoy the view. Personally, I always hated waking up alone in this hallway.”

“If you have a problem with any of this,” I said, voice surprisingly steady, “go tell your Alpha. He brought me here, not you.”

Seraphina’s eyes flashed murder. “You certainly have a mouth. Do you really believe that you are going to have a word against the Alpha’s decision? Or do you simply have a death wish that you can’t seem to reach?”

“And you have insecurity,” I replied softly. “But I wouldn’t bother. I know that my presence here is shaking yours. I will have you know, I have intention in staying anywhere near your Alpha. His bed is yours to warm… if he chooses to call for you.”

“Watch yourself, little girl,” she hissed. “Your temporary use will run out soon.”

***********************************

It was a while since Seraphina left me in the room. I hadn’t spoken to anyone since, even when the maids walked in offering food. I simply nodded at them to set the tray on the table.

I, however, would be lying if I said that I dared touch anything they offered.

The door opened again. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

His presence filled the room before he spoke.

Alexander.

I glared at the sheets instead of him.

“So,” I said sharply, “you’ve moved me here. You have me in your pack. What next?”

He crossed his arms. “I did. Is that a problem?”

“Without asking me.”

“Yes.”

“And you put me next to your rooms like I’m some… pet.”

“That is not what this is.”

“Oh?” I snapped, meeting his eyes. “Then what is it, Alpha? Protection? Territory? Convenience? Because it’s definitely not kindness. And I most definitely don’t want to stay here, so I wouldn’t consider it as an advantage.”

His expression cooled instantly. “You were unsafe in the other wing. The maternity wing is not for an Alpha’s heir.”

“With Seraphina and the other women who would kill me for existing?” I scoffed. “Yes. I figured.”

He didn’t deny it.

I pushed on, anger rising. “Lucien is probably worse now because of this. He could even be dead, and you are not even giving me a chance to find out whether or not he survived.” My voice cracked. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye. And it is all because of you.”

His jaw tightened. “You’re still thinking about him.”

“He is my fiancé, and I could have saved him!”

“He manipulated you,” Alexander said coldly. “And to save him, you would have killed my pup.”

“You don’t know anything!”

“I know he didn’t care enough to protect you,” he said, stepping closer. “And I know Red Moon was about to kill the pup. I wonder why he chose to keep you alive, and why he was willing to keep you alive. What use could you be to him?”

I flinched. He saw it.

His voice softened a fraction, but only a fraction.

“I brought you here because it was necessary. Nothing more.” Liar.

Sage whispered, He sat with us all night. Smelled like concern. He was worried about us. Don’t push him away.

I ignored her.

“If your only concern is the baby,” I said quietly, “just say it.”

He didn’t answer. Which was answer enough.

He turned away slightly, as if ending the conversation.

“Rest,” he ordered. “Grace will check on you soon. You need to eat, by the way. I doubt that starving yourself is going to get you anywhere.”

I looked at his back. Strong. Unyielding. Closed off.

I hated him for rescuing me. I hated him for confusing me. I hated him for being my child’s father. And worst of all… I hated that some part of me felt safer near him than anywhere else.

He reached the door. Paused. Then, without turning around, he said in a low voice:

“You belong here for now. Get used to it.”