Page 17 of Alpha Ruined

Her mother would say it’s a waste of a day, and if she ever caught Bree doing it, she’d wake her up by yelling at her.

So she only naps when she’s feeling under the weather or extremely exhausted.

But, after her encounter withhimand the near miss with the prison alarm, she decides to lie down for a bit.

She also plans to never do something that reckless again.

The alarm scared her, but the Alphascared her more.

It wasn’t just the way he acted, either, like he saw right through her. It was the way she was affected by him.

If that alarm didn’t go off, she doesn’t know how long she would have stayed down in the musty prison basement with him.

At best, he’s an arrogant prick that enjoys smirking way too much, and at worst, he’s dangerous.

As she wakes from her nap, she still can’t get him out ofher mind. She heads into the office and gazes out the window, taking in the view of trees.

She wonders where he’s staying.

She wonders what his name is.

And why the hell was he in the prison, anyway?

It doesn’t matter, she tells herself.Don’t let him distract you from what you’re here to do.

It’s not like she’ll ever see him again after this.

But her womb contracts, and she gasps at a sharp cramp in her gut.

That pain is entirely too familiar.

“Oh, absolutelynot,” she hisses, rubbing at her stomach.

It’s too soon for any type of Heat cramp, and she’ll be damned if that handsome creeper is the reason hers starts earlier than expected.

Lovely view of the outside forgotten, she heads into the bathroom and takes her suppressant, adding an extra dose just in case.

As long as she doesn’t see him again, she has nothing to worry about.

Her phone buzzes on the nightstand, and she makes a face as she answers it.

“Hey Mom.”

“Hi, Bree-Bree. I’m just calling to check in. How’s the town?”

Her mother never calls to justcheck in, and when she uses that horrid nickname, Bree knows something is up.

“It’s really pretty,” she says lamely. “It’s a little chilly, but not too much.”

“Oh, good. Then you can wear your sweaters.”

Bree blinks. “Yup.”

“That’s good, Bree-Bree.”

An awkward silence falls, and Bree is the one to break it.

“Okay, well?—”