Page 69 of The CEO Alpha’s Substitute Mate

I pull on Callum’s shirt, hissing, “Reid knows I’m here? How does he know?”

The alpha taps his nose, and I suddenly remember what he said an hour ago about the shifters in this house being able to smell him on me. My face burns. “Never again. I mean it.”

But the protest dies on my lips when I see him watching me, the hunger in his eyes telling me he would be more than happy to have me on my back again in a minute. Damn it. I look away, wishing I could feel as decisive as I sound.

I want to be angry with him for putting me in this position again, but it’s really hard to feel any of that when my body is thrumming and my muscles ache in the most delicious of ways. As I button up the shirt, I frown at Callum. “You do know you’re complicating things between us. I’m here as Luca’s mother. Now we’re sleeping together? I’ll have you know I don’t sleep around, and I’m not happy about this.”

He walks over to me and rolls up my sleeves, his touch tender and his voice grave. “Duly acknowledged.”

“I mean it, Callum.” I worry my bottom lip. “Luca will get confused and—”

He grabs my jaw and forces me to look up at him. “Our private affairs have nothing to do with our son.”

Our son.

The way he says the words has a warmth spreading in me. I try not to let it show.

“They very much do.” I bat his hand away, getting to my feet and looking him in the eye. “He’s going to start noticing things and asking questions, and what will you do once he asks about us? He may be six, but he’s exceptionally smart, especially when it comes to social situations.”

Callum raises a brow. “I’ll tell him it’s none of his business.”

Scowling, I put both hands on his chest and push. “Absolutely not. Besides I just told you I don’t sleep around.”

His hands curl around my wrists, and he holds me in place. “Neither do I.”

His voice is serious enough that my anger drains, only to be replaced by confusion. “Then what are we doing?”

He studies me, and his hold on me gentles. “Luca is mine. You are mine.”

I stare at him, not knowing how to respond to that. His? I’m his? Is this some sort of wolf thing, or is this his weird way of asking me out?

Before I can ask, Reid knocks again and then calls out, “The young master’s awake. His fever is gone.”

I’m out of that bed before he finishes the sentence. Uncaring of how I’m dressed, I throw open the door to a startled Reid and rush past him. I pass a few staff members who hide their smiles or smirks, I really can’t tell, until I reach Luca’s door.

Salar is in the chair by the window with his sleeves down for once. My son is sitting up against the pillows with his hair standing off his head in eleven directions, and there’s color all through his face. Three steps get me to the bed, and then I throw my arms around him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Everything hurts, Mom.” He gives me a tired look.

I kiss his forehead, and he nestles into my chest before stiffening and pulling away. When he looks at me, his expression is irritated. “Why do you smell like him?”

“Like who?”

He hesitates and then looks toward the doorway where Callum is now standing and whispers, “Like him.”

My face turns a bright red, and Salar coughs awkwardly. Luca sniffs me again, and I make a startled sound. His little brows furrow, and he wraps his arms around me, glaring at Callum. “She’s my mom!”

Callum stares at him before walking over to us. I don’t know what he’s about to do, but I shoot him a warning look nonetheless. Luca’s hold on me tightens, and for a moment, I almost think I’m imagining a strange rumbling in his chest. When I look down at him, his eyes are no longer gray but a deep golden.

“L-Luca?” I stammer out.

He’s growling. My blood grows cold, and before I can react, Callum grabs him by the back of his neck, a similar sound erupting from his own throat, only so much more terrifying. I sit there frozen in place, and then Luca’s growl begins to dim down, turning into soft whimpers, and he buries his face in my chest, mumbling, “My mom. My mom.”

I hold him closer despite my fear and whisper, “Of course, baby. I’m yours.”

He’s weeping now, something so unlike him that it shakes me to the core. Callum is no longer growling, but his expression is stiff and his eyes are still golden. When he speaks, his voice is raspy. “Enough. She is not yours.”