Pregnant For The Alpha I Never Met

Father son bond

ALPHA BRAHAM'S POV

Convincing Millie to leave her mother's house had been war.

She'd stood in that living room yesterday evening, arms crossed, jaw set, looking every bit like the woman who'd faced down a mob of reporters without flinching.

"I'll be fine," she'd said, voice steady. "I've been handling things on my own all these years. A few paparazzi aren't going to break me."

"Millie, those people aren't leaving," I'd countered, forcing myself to stay calm when every instinct screamed at me to just throw her over my shoulder and carry her out. "A handful will camp outside your gates for days, maybe weeks, waiting for something to happen. You and Leo deserve better than that."

"I'm used to pressure. I can handle them."

"This isn't about what you can handle." My hands flexed at my sides. "It's about what you shouldn't have to."

"I can't just run away from my mother's house because of some reporters."

"You're not running," Callie had interjected from the doorway, and I'd never been more grateful for her presence. "You're getting rest. You deserve to be taken care of, Millie."

"Callie, I understand your concern, but—"

"No, you don't." Callie stepped forward, her tone gentle but firm. "Your stepmother, Silas, and Martha still have keys to this house. They can walk in anytime they want. At least go somewhere safe until you can change the locks and secure everything. If not for yourself, then for Leo."

Renan was here too. "She's right. This house isn't secure. Not yet."

I'd watched Millie's resolve waver, watched her glance toward the stairs where Leo was strolling down, and I'd known we were close to breaking through.

Then Leo himself got down, his small hand sliding into Millie’s.

"Mama, don't you trust them?" he'd asked, those golden-hazel eyes…my eyes…staring up at her with absolute faith.

Millie had crouched down immediately, her expression softening in a way that made my chest ache. "Mama trusts these people more than anyone in the world, mi corazón. They were my only allies even before you were born."

"So that means I can trust them too, right?"

"Of course you can. They'll take care of you just as much as mama would."

Leo had tilted his head, considering this. "Then why don't you want to go with them?"

"It's not that I don't want to…"

"Then let's go!" His face had lit up with excitement, and just like that, her defenses had crumbled.

She'd looked at me then, something vulnerable flickering in her eyes before she'd hidden it away. "Fine. But Callie and Renan are coming too."

"Of course," I'd agreed immediately, not caring that she was bringing reinforcements. She was coming. That was all that mattered.

Then she'd added, voice firm, "And we're not going to your pack yet. I'm not ready for that. Neither is Leo."

"We'll go to my private residence," I'd assured her. "Just us."

When we arrived and Leo saw the size of the property, his eyes went wide. "Mama, is this a castle?"

"It's Mr. Gothan's house, baby."

"It's big enough to be a castle." He'd looked at me then. "Can I call you something other than Mr. Gothan? It's too long."

My throat had tightened. "What would you like to call me?"

He'd thought about it seriously. "What about... Braham? That's what mama calls you."

"That works for me."

Millie had looked away, but not before I'd caught the shine in her eyes.

………

Now, morning light filtered through the windows of my bedroom, and I was awake before dawn—not because I'd slept well, but because I'd barely slept.

Millie and Leo had stayed. In my home.

Even though Leo had insisted on sleeping in the same bed as his mother, even though Millie had kept careful distance between us all evening, even though Callie and Renan occupied the guest wing like sentries…

They were here.

My family was here.

The thought should have terrified me. Instead, it settled something restless in my chest that had been clawing for four years.

I made my way downstairs, following the sound of voices toward the kitchen.

I stopped in the doorway, just watching.

Millie stood at the counter, her short hair slightly mussed from sleep, pouring water into a glass. Leo sat at the island, swinging his legs and talking animatedly about something, his hands gesturing wildly.

"—and the dragon came to fight for us and killed all the bad people," he was saying. "But mama, he didn't have fire in his mouth!"

"Oh really?" Millie's voice was warm, indulgent. She was completely focused on him, like nothing else in the world existed.

"And you know what's really strange? After he killed the bad people, the dragon turned into a man!"

Something cold slid down my spine.

"That sounds like quite a dream, baby," Millie said, but I caught the slight tremor in her hand as she set down the jug.

"I can draw it for you!" Leo bounced in his seat. "The dragon and the man!"

"I'm sure you can, but first you need to…"

"Bathe, have breakfast, and get ready for the day," Leo finished, grinning. "I know, mama."

She ruffled his hair, and the love in that simple gesture made my chest tight.

This. This was what I'd been searching for. Not just Millie. Not just my son. But this…the warmth, the easy affection, the feeling of home that had nothing to do with walls and everything to do with the people inside them.

“The goddess chose well,” Vorn rumbled inside me, satisfied. “Our mate is perfect. Our son is strong.”

“They're not ours yet,” I reminded him.

“They will be.”

Leo's head turned toward me, and his face lit up. "Braham! Did you sleep well?"

"I did," I lied, moving into the kitchen. "Did you?"

"I dreamed about dragons!"

"So I heard." I caught Millie's eye over his head. She looked nervous, like she wanted to say something but didn't know how.

Before I could ask, Leo tugged on my sleeve. "Can you help me with my bath? Mama always does it, but I want you to do it today."

I froze, not trusting myself to speak.

Millie cleared her throat. "Leo, maybe Braham has things to…"

"It's fine," I said quickly. Too quickly. "I'd be honored."

Leo beamed. "Yay! Come on!"

He grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the stairs. I glanced back at Millie, and she gave me a small nod…permission and warning all at once.

As we reached the top of the stairs, I heard Callie's voice from the kitchen.

"How does a child you raised in Spain speak English this fluently?"

I slowed my pace, curious despite myself.

"He's homeschooled," Millie answered, and I heard the pride in her voice. "I teach him myself. We have a personalized syllabus. He's too young to be with strangers all day."

"So he doesn't have friends?"

"He plays with neighborhood kids sometimes. Goes to the park. Sunday school. But..." Millie paused. "He's very protective of me. Always wants to stay close."

"Wonder where he gets that from," Callie said dryly, and I could hear her smile.

"He's bilingual," Millie added. "Spanish and English. I wanted him to know both."

"Of course he is. Because apparently your child is some kind of genius."

"He's just... special."

Special doesn't begin to cover it, I thought, looking down at the boy currently dragging me toward the bathroom.

The bathroom session turned into an interrogation.

"Where were you when it was just me and mama?" Leo asked as I tested the water temperature.

My hands stilled. "I was looking for you both."

"Why didn't you find us?"

"Your mama is very good at hiding."

"Why did she hide from you?"

How did I explain this to a three-year-old? "Because she was scared."

"Of you?"

"Of a lot of things. But yes, maybe a little of me too."

Leo frowned, processing this. "Are you scary?"

"Sometimes. To people who aren't my family."

"Am I your family?"

My throat closed. "Yes."

"Is mama your family too?"

"I'd like her to be."

He nodded, satisfied with this answer. "What do you want from mama?"

The question was so direct, so impossibly mature, that I had to remind myself he was only three.

"I want her to be happy," I said honestly. "And safe. And I want to be someone she can trust."

"Can you make her happy again? She's happy now, but before…when we were in Barcelona…sometimes she cried at night when she thought I was sleeping."

Pain lanced through my chest. "I'm going to try."

"Good." Leo splashed water at me, suddenly playful again. "I have more questions, but mama says I ask too many sometimes."

"Tell you what," I said, reaching for the shampoo. "Write down all your questions. One answer per day. We have all the time in the world."

His eyes widened. "Really?"

"Really."

He grinned, and it was like looking in a mirror. "I'm going to write down so many questions that you have to spend lots and lots of time with me and mama."

Smart kid.

Like father, like son, Vorn preened.