Page 11 of His Beast

Okay, now I really am pissed off.

“There is no one better, Alec.” I reply, defensively. “I went to that stupid event as a favor to you, if you remember, not because I was looking for a partner. If you called to insult my mate, my partner, my relationship, then I’m hanging up. I have better shit to do.”

“I didn’t call you to fight!” Alec backpeddles, panic rising in his voice. I can hear the low rumble of an Alpha in the background, and I fight the urge to tell him to fuck off. Zayn may not have had anyone to stand up for him in the past, but he does now, and I’m not tolerating anyone insulting him. Not even Alec. “I wanted to tell you something, and I was just taken aback. The reputation of a Valla isn’t a good one, I don’t want you hurt or worse.”

“Nothing will happen to me. Zayn isn’t defined by his designation any more than you and I are defined by ours. He’s good to me, he makes me happy.”

“That’s ultimately all I want for you, Q. I’ve found my happiness, I want you to experience that too.”

“What did you want to tell me?” I inquire, already over this conversation. A large smile spreads across his face, and my heart plummets. I already know what he’s going to say before he’s even opened mouth.

“I’m pregnant!”

“Already?” The words are out before I can stop them and I wince, jealousy replacing my anger.

“Mhm! My heat came shortly after the Night of Scarlet and I’ve been feeling rather unwell the past few weeks. The first clue should’ve been how I couldn’t stand the scent of Richard’s brown sugar and rosemary glazed pork chops. Anyway, we took a test last night. And two pink lines!”

It’s been at least a month and a half since the event, and I thought it would be too soon to have children, yet I can’t help the jealousy that’s flared up at his announcement. In the past few days since the conversation Zayn and I had, I realize that I wanted the future he’s envisioned for us, with a child to call our own. I want it so badly that I’ve begun to resent my impending heat because I know this wasn’t the right time to try and conceive, and I’m forced to face the fact that we will have to use protection. I know it won’t be forever, but my inner Omega doesn’t give a fuck about logic. A text comes in from Zayn, but I swipe it away without reading it, involuntarily returning to the conversation.

“I’m happy for you,” I say, half-heartedly, forcing a smile.

“Thank you! I’m really excited. My brothers are as well, and I honestly love that my nephew will have a cousin around his age.”

“How is Blake and their Omega?”

“Doing well. Apparently Morgan is already talking about having another baby. I don’t know if I could be pregnant that close together. We’ll see how this pregnancy goes first.”

Nodding, I pretend to do something off screen, not really wanting to be part of this conversation any more. Why am I so upset that Alec is pregnant? He’s my best friend so it doesn’t make sense. I watch the banner notification appear on my phone, telling me that motion is detected at my front door just as I hear it chime open, the strong scent of smoked birch reaching me from my position on the couch. Zayn’s scent is strongest when he’s done at the gym, waiting to shower at home now because some days the strong scent soothes me in ways I can’t explain, and today I couldn’t be more grateful to have that stronger scent.

He comes up behind me and leans over the edge of the couch, ignoring my video call to lick his mark on my neck, sending shivers down my body, before he nuzzles against it. Turning my head, I return the greeting, burying my face into his neck to breathe in his thick rich scent. He’s still in his gym clothes, hair piled high on his head in his usual messy bun, the sight of him drawing an appreciative purr from my throat that his inner Valla answers with a song of his own. I loved that sound, deep and soothing.

“Hi,” he whispers, smiling softly.

“Hi.” I return his smile, leaning forward to kiss his lips.

Alec clears his throat and I turn back to my phone screen to see him blushing with large eyes, shifting in his seat as if he’s uncomfortable. Good. Let him see how my mate reacts to me and how I greet him—with the love and affection he deserves. Fuck his earlier words saying that I could do better. I didn’t want better.

“I’ll let you go, you seem busy,” Alec remarks, his gaze drifting to Zayn, who doen’t seem to notice him.

“Keep talking, I’ll take a shower.” Zayn mutters softly, leaning in to kiss me once more before leaving.

Despite what he says, it gave me an out of the call, so I said raise my eye brow at Alec—as if challenging him to say something—before proving my goodbyes. As I start dinner, I’m lost in my thoughts to the point that I feel rather overwhelmed. I have so much going on in the next few weeks that I don’t know how to compartmentalize everything. My next book releases tomorrow, followed by Zayn’s fight a week from today, and my heat is supposed to arrive shortly after that. We have no idea how the fight is going to go, and there is still the situation of Zayn’s debt. It makes sense that right now isn’t the best time for biology to dictate how my heat goes, and I find that I’m rather upset about it and can’t shake the hyperfixation. Pulling down the box of pasta as the water bubbles loudly on the stove, I’m forced to remind myself that this is temporary and my turn will come.

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t even notice Zayn until he’s behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me against his chest, resting his head atop of mine. The scent of soap and smoked birch invades my nose and I tilt my head backward, resting it against his big chest as I awkwardly add pasta to the boiling pot.

“What’s got my little bee thinking so hard?” Zayn’s rough voice vibrates across my back while he nuzzles my neck, his size once again making me feel small. I’ve become addicted to that feeling, almost craving it like I crave my nests when I need comfort. The way his arms wrap around me, or his body enveloping mine, protecting me from anything that could ever come our way. We had begun a routine of watching mindless television in the evenings on the couch, where I had begun to build a third smaller nest, and I looked forward to curling up against him every night and feeling cozy in his embrace. But right now, it’s distracting as fuck while trying to cook.

“Alec is pregnant.”

My voice is devoid of any emotion, sounding robotic even to my own ears, as if I’m discussing the weather. While I am getting better at it, our bond is still new, and I instantly feel the flood of emotions that came from him. Happiness, excitement, eagerness, impatience, but also hesitation and worry, all flooding through the bond before they were abruptly cut off as he gains control and processes how to proceed.

“Bee—” he starts, but I shake my head.

“Timing isn’t right, Zee.”

I pull out of his arms, my Omega lamenting at the absence of his warmth as I gather the rest of the ingredients from the fridge to make the sauce and the frozen precooked chicken I use when I don’t really feel like spending all my time standing at the stove. He takes the bag of frozen chicken from me and places it on the counter before reaching over and turning off the burner. Sliding his hand under my chin, he lifts my face toward him, but I turn my gaze away, unable to look at him. He stands there silently until the moment becomes uncomfortable and I try to move away, but he loops his arm around my waist, lifting me upward to set me on the counter, pinning me in place with his larger body.

The height means we’re now at eye level, making avoiding his gaze even harder. Patiently he waits for me to look at him. When I finally do, I notice his hair is loose, draping over his face, but his sage green gaze still pierces through my soul.