One Night. One Mistake. Ch 8

 

Chapter 8 

Elle’s POV 

I couldn’t help but stare as Brad sliced through his rare steak with surgical precision. There was something mesmerizing about the way he ate- a strange combination of refined etiquette and primal hunger. 

A human server approached, offering me a small silver tray with a steaming antibacterial towel. I took it hesitantly, wiping my hands before returning it to the tray. The server pulled out my chair with practiced efficiency, positioning me directly across from Brad. The air between us 

felt charged with an uncomfortable tension. 

“You didn’t have to come personally,” I said, breaking the silence. My voice sounded smaller than I intended, betraying my discomfort. 

Brad looked up from his plate, amber eyes flickering with cold light as he dabbed the comfier of his mouth with a napkin. “This is simply an Alpha’s responsibility,” he replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “Nothing more.” 

The message couldn’t have been clearer if he’d written it in neon: our relationship was purely obligation, a duty to the mate bond and nothing 

else. No emotions involved. 

I nodded, understanding completely. Lowering my gaze, I began to eat, focusing intently on the food rather than the intimidating werewolf 

across from me. 

Without warning, Brad’s energy shifted. The air around us thickened with his Alpha presence, making it suddenly difficult to breathe. “You’ve already had three pieces of salmon,” he stated, his voice dropping into that commanding tone that seemed to bypass my brain and speak 

directly to my body. 

Before I could protest, the chef swiftly removed the salmon platter from my reach, bowing slightly to Brad. The display of absolute obedience 

was jarring. 

“Are you seriously monitoring what I eat now?” I asked, torn between amusement and irritation. 

“The pup needs balanced nutrition,” he replied without hesitation. “Too much of one thing isn’t beneficial.” 

I blinked, struggling to process that this powerful Alpha werewolf was genuinely concerned about my diet. Before I could form a response, Brad turned to the chef. “Prepare the special nutritional broth for pregnant mates. Immediately.” 

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Just as I opened my mouth to refuse whatever weird werewolf concoction they were about to force on me, my phone rang. The familiar ringtone 

made my heart stutter as I glanced down at the screen. 

Jason Miller. 

Grief and anger surged through me like an electric shock. I flipped my phone over quickly, hiding the screen against the table. My throat tightened as I tried to maintain my composure. 

“You’re not answering?” Brad asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. I could feel his focus intensify, and I remembered too late that werewolves could hear heartbeats. Mine was probably racing. 

“It’s nothing important,” I mumbled, returning my attention to my plate and taking another bite though I’d suddenly lost my appetite. I forgot 

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:33 pm PPTM 

Chapter 8 

that werewolves could also smell lies. 

Brad’s nostrils flared slightly, but to my surprise, he didn’t press further. An awkward silence settled over us, thick and suffocating. When he finished eating, he stood abruptly sad left without another word, his departure as cold and efficient as everything else he did. 

After the staff cleared away our lunch dishes, I finally picked up my phone. The screen showed a missed call from Jason Miller. 

I stared at his name, feeling a complex mixture of emotions churn in my stomach. Since that night I’d accidentally gotten pregnant with an Alpha werewolf’s child, I’d cut all contact with Jason. Never answered his calls, Never replied to his messages. My silence said everything I couldn’t bring myself to put into words. 

Why was he still trying to reach me? His texts acted as if nothing had happened. 

For a brief, bitter moment, I wished he would just disappear. Maybe then I could begin to heal. 

By evening, Brad appeared at my hospital room door again, followed by a team of human chefs in pristine white uniforms. After my emotional afternoon, my appetite had vanished completely. I stared at the carefully prepared meal designed specifically for pregnant humans mated to werewolves, feeling nothing but apathy. 

“You’re not eating, Brad observed, his amber eyes scanning me with that unnerving intensity. 

“I’m not hungry,” I said with a shrug, pushing the plate away slightly. 

Brad’s brow furrowed. He extended his right hand, and immediately a server placed an intricately carved bowl bearing the Rayne family crest into his palm. The bowl contained what looked like a thick, creamy substance-some kind of specialized nutritional supplement. 

What happened next shocked me to my core. Brad dipped a spoon into the mixture and extended it toward my lips. The Alpha werewolf, CEO of Rayne Group, was attempting to feed me personally. 

I froze, staring at him in disbelief. The human chefs around us seemed equally stunned, their eyes practically bulging from their sockets. 

“This child absolutely cannot be compromised, Brad commanded, his voice laced with Alpha authority. “Eat.” 

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His words made it clear-he cared only about the Alpha heir in my womb, not about me. Still, the gesture itself was unprecedented. I could see 

the shock on the faces of the staff. 

After two reluctant spoonfuls, my body rebelled. I clamped a hand over my mouth and bolted to the bathroom, barely making it before violently emptying my stomach. 

When I emerged, pale and trembling, Brad’s expression had darkened, his nostrils flaring slightly as he detected the unpleasant mixture of 

scents. 

“You need to eat,” he insisted. “I don’t care if you’re hungry or not. I won’t let my heir starve.” 

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Chapter 8 

Taking the bowl from him with shaking hands, I forced myself to swallow spoonful after spoonful of the revolting mixture. How could werewolves think this tasted good to humans? It was like drinking liquid chalk infused with herbs that should never be combined. 

When I finally finished, Brad’s eyes flashed with satisfaction. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, revealing the tip of a sharp canine-an actual smile, however slight. 

The chefs exchanged glances of pure shock. 

This pattern continued for days. Brad would appear at mealtimes, supervise my eating, and leave without much conversation. The entire medical center buzzed with whispers about the Alpha’s unprecedented attention to a human matè. 

It wasn’t until later that Alex Gray, Brad’s human assistant, told me the truth: Brad had been ordered by Elizabeth, the Council Chairwoman, to 

personally ensure my proper care. 

I laughed bitterly at the revelation. Of course. This confirmed what I already knew-we weren’t together by choice but by circumstance. An 

accidental activation of a mate bond. No foundation of feelings whatsoever. 

I wondered if my morning sickness disgusted him. With his enhanced werewolf senses, hearing and smelling me vomit must have been 

revolting. 

Yet he kept returning, day after day, fulfilling his duty. 

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After One Night with the Alpha