After a decade with Alpha Kohen Rice, I accidentally answered his phone.
"Oh, Kohen, our Daisy just had a litter of puppies," a soft voice cooed, displayed simply as “Puppy.”
“The Alpha is in the shower. Call back later,” I replied coolly before hanging up.
That night, Kohen was frantic, grabbing clothes strewn across the floor and throwing them on as he rushed out. Meanwhile, I wiped away every trace of myself from our "home," removing everything.
I boarded a flight to another country.
Three years later, Kohen tracked me down on a small island resort. He couldn't take his eyes off the little boy beside me, the spitting image of him. His eyes reddened as he asked, “Is he mine?”
---
Kohen, the Alpha of the Silverfang Pack, was brimming with energy, while I was so worn out I could barely keep my eyes open. My phone kept ringing. Half-asleep, I accidentally picked up.
“Kohen! Our Daisy just had a litter of puppies!” The voice was sweet and gentle as could be, but it jolted me awake instantly, as if struck by lightning. I glanced at the caller ID: “Puppy.”
“Alpha Kohen?” the voice chimed in again.
I took a deep breath and responded evenly, “The Alpha is in the shower. Call back later.”
There was a pause, then silence as the call ended.
When Kohen emerged from the bathroom, a towel hung low on his hips. Water trickled down his muscled form, seeping into the fabric. Fresh nail marks on his skin—my doing.
“Why don’t you catch some more sleep?” he suggested, his gaze darkening at the red marks on my collarbone.
As he leaned in closer, I handed him his phone. He frowned, snatching it from me, setting it aside before pinning my hands with care, his breath tickling my skin.
“She called,” I mentioned. “Said your Daisy had puppies.”
He froze, realization flooding his features. He scrambled, hastily pulling on his clothes as he hurried out.
I sat alone in the “home” we had designed together, watching him run to another woman.
