Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother
Chapter 248: _ Believe in Her

Chapter 248: _ Believe in Her

María José and I... we’d do anything to remain closer but the universe still wants us apart. For now, that is.

I closed my eyes, forehead pressing to hers again, letting her scent soak into my lungs. Sweet and warm, like rose petals dipped in sunshine. I could feel her heart thudding against mine; too fast and too scared.

"I don’t want to either," I whispered, brushing my nose along hers. "But we have to do this. For us."

Her hands gripped my shirt harder, as if her fingers could claw through the fabric and find the certainty she needed buried inside my ribs. "Why does it always have to be this hard? Why can’t we just... I don’t know... run away to Portugal and sell churros on the beach?"

Oh, there it was again; the sense of humor.

"Because," I said with a dry laugh, "I’m terrible at deep-frying. You’d end up widowed by a churro explosion. And... my dear wife, we don’t want to end up as feral carnivorous rogues, do we?"

She huffed a breath. It was half a sob, half a laugh, and I felt her relax just a little beneath me. I kissed her nose—light, staying there for as many seconds as I could before I pulled back just enough to see her eyes.

"In four days," I said, steadying my voice, "we’ll be married."

María José blinked. "What?"

"In four days," I repeated, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, "you’ll be standing beside me at the altar. Not Rosa. You."

She jerked upright, our bodies still entangled on the couch but her spine suddenly stiffened. "You’re marrying me? As in... four days from now? Are you having a stroke, Axel?"

"Nope," I said, popping the ’p’. "Just a revelation. I’ve made up my mind. I’m marrying you. Rosa can marry the devil, for all I care. Actually—scratch that, I wouldn’t wish her on him either."

I meant it.

She gaped at me, mouth opening and closing like a stunned goldfish. "You can’t just—just decide that, Axel! That’s too soon! The plan isn’t even successful yet! We don’t have anything on her!"

"Yes, we do." I tilted my head, eyebrows raised. "We’ve got a pregnancy."

And then, to my utmost surprise, her expression turned murderous. "I’m pregnant?"

W-what?!

I could really throw my head back and laugh my lungs out right now. María José was so cute when she was clueless. It kinda reminds you that despite all the trauma and abuse, she was still just a naive eighteen-year-old.

And I love her for it

Well, fuck laughing because right now, nothing was funny even when something was funny.

Thus, I winced. "No! I mean Rosa is. Or she says she is. That’s our lead."

"That’s a confession, not a lead!"

"It’s both! Look, either she’s lying, in which case we expose her and end the whole thing, or she’s telling the truth and it means I’m not the father—unless I’ve started sleepwalking and donating sperm to my enemies in my dreams."

She groaned, dragging her hands down her face. "Axel..."

"Have a little faith, María," I said softly, placing a hand over hers and peeling it gently away from her face. "This? You and me? It’s already written somewhere. We’re just catching up to it."

"But what if this makes things worse?" she asked, and for once her voice wasn’t fierce or furious—it was small. "What if the witch gets mad? What if this paints a bigger target on my back?"

I wrapped my arms around her and pressed our bodies close again. "Then let him come," I whispered into her hair. "Let him bring his little threats and his creepy smile. I trust you to survive it. I trust you to stall him, to watch, to listen. You’re the strongest person I know."

She was quiet for a moment, then her fingers curled into my chest like she was scared to let go. "You really believe we’ll get out of this?"

"I believe in you," I replied, without hesitation. "And I believe in what we’re building. So yes. We’ll get through it. And then we’ll finally get to live."

She sighed again. It was a long and resigned, like a queen accepting a crown made of thorns. "Four days?"

"Four," I confirmed. "And when we’re done exposing the witch and the faker and all the freaks, we’ll disappear somewhere only the two of us know for our honeymoon. Afterward, I’ll become the Alpha, we’ll lead a happy family and I’m even willing to get matching aprons."

"Ugh," she groaned. "You’re really going to make me fall in love with you all over again."

I smirked. "Good. Maybe this time it’ll be faster and less denial."

If only we could get a chance to do it all over again...

She laughed then—finally, truly... and threw her arms around my neck, crushing her mouth to mine in a goodbye kiss that nearly undid all my resolve.

It wasn’t a kiss filled with lust this time. It was filled with longing. With the ache of separation and the desperate cling of hope. It tasted like promises whispered into the night, like "don’t die" in a dozen unspoken dialects.

We held each other for a long time. Her body memorizing mine. My hands slid into her hair one last time. My heart thundering like it knew the moment I walked out the door, something would shift forever.

She didn’t cry. I didn’t cry. But something inside both of us cracked quietly, like a plate set down too hard on marble.

"I’ll wait," she said softly, fingers slipping from mine.

"I’ll come back tomorrow," I promised.

And then, with a breath that scraped my throat raw, I walked away.

I am so getting that phone for her tomorrow.

******

The ride home was brutal.

Every damn tree I passed looked like it had María José’s face peeking from behind it. Every bump on the road rattled through my spine and made me question whether I should turn back. And don’t even get me started on the moon—it was mocking me with its big, stupid, glowing face.

"She’ll be fine," I muttered to myself. "She’ll be fine. You told her everything. She knows what to do."

But knowing wasn’t the same as surviving. Knowing wasn’t armor. And now that I was alone in the quiet of my car, the voices of doubt were loud as hell.

What if he gets to her? What if he’s already there?

I clutched the steering wheel tighter. "No. If he wanted to hurt her, he would’ve done it already. He’s playing some long, manipulative game. He won’t blow his cover that easily."

Hugo, that baatars has been silent lately. It was as if he knew there was a looming war and he was conserving all the energy for later.

He gets like that sometimes: quiet and only speaks when necessary. I’d always let him because sometimes, maybe I also need to think for myself without a real voice in my head.

However, in this case, it just made the loneliness press harder. Alone is loneliness. With María José is... bliss.

I tried to remember her face—the smile, the laugh, the breathy moan when I’d kissed her neck. I burned those images into my brain like battle armor. I needed them. I needed her.

I could have hovered around to try to catch a glimpse of the witch, protect her from afar, and be prepared to interfere whenever it felt like something had gone wrong

However, I couldn’t risk it or take any chances. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I ruined this for us. The witch seemed powerful and I bet he’d be able to smell any foul play.

He needed to see that she was alone. Scared and under his mercy. Argh—it sucks to even think about it.

By the time I got home, my entire body felt like it had been dragged behind a truck.

The guards greeted me with curious expressions, but I waved them off. No time for questions. No time for anyone. I needed a shower, a stiff drink, and maybe to scream into a pillow for twenty minutes.

Instead, I marched into my room, pulled off my jacket, and stood at the window, staring out into the dark like it might offer me some kind of clarity.

The stars didn’t answer. Jerks.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

"Four days," I whispered to no one. "Just four days."

And please Moon Goddess... let her be okay until then.