The Alpha’s Forbidden Pregnant Mate

My chest constricted with each step I took down the endless corridor toward the Great Hall. Dawn’s first light crept through the tall windows, casting everything in ethereal silver and violet hues that reminded me of her eyes.

Crystalline blue orbs, luminous as winter starlight, haunted every corner of my mind. The werewolf princess I’d encountered beneath the moon’s embrace had claimed not only my waking thoughts—she’d invaded my dreams with silken whispers and phantom touches. Her luscious curves had made my mouth water with desperate hunger. Her intoxicating scent of wild roses and midnight rain had stirred my blood to molten fire.

I wasn’t naive. The moment our gazes locked at the peace summit, recognition blazed through my very soul. I knew what she was, what the fates had destined her to be—my mate.

When I’d held her in the moonlit gardens, nothing had ever felt so perfectly right. Nothing had ever been so devastatingly wrong…

Damn the gods…

She was forbidden to me. Her people had torn my heart from my chest when they’d slaughtered my dearest companion. Kieran had been my brother in all but blood. We’d ridden into countless battles together, saved each other from death’s embrace more times than I could count. Then came that final, fatal night when his lifeblood painted the earth crimson as he died in my arms. He’d thrown himself between me and a werewolf’s snapping jaws, taking the death blow meant for me.

My heart clenched as his dying words echoed in my memory.

“Swear to me,” he’d gasped, crimson frothing from his lips. “Promise me you’ll protect my sister. She has no one else in this cruel world.”

I’d clasped his trembling hand and vowed, “I’ll do more than protect her. I’ll make her my wife.”

Relief had washed over his bloodstained features before his eyes turned glassy and vacant, his final breath escaping like morning mist. Then he was gone, leaving only silence.

Both Kieran and I knew how his beloved sister, Rosalina, had cherished secret feelings for me through the years. Though I’d never returned her romantic affections—seeing her only as a dear sister—I knew wedding her would bring my fallen friend peace. The gratitude in his dying eyes had confirmed it.

Yet now… now that I’d found my true mate…

“Hellfire,” I cursed, raking fingers through my midnight hair.

“Lysander,” a commanding voice called from the shadows ahead.

My head snapped up to find my father approaching. King Malachar loomed before me, his brow dark as storm clouds, nostrils flaring. His violet eyes blazed with otherworldly fire.

Lips curling back, he growled, “Follow me.” He whirled away, his obsidian cloak billowing like raven wings.

My heart plummeted to my stomach.

What in the nine hells?

Spine rigid, I followed my father down a side passage. He paused at his chamber doors, gesturing for me to enter first. Raising a questioning brow, I swept past as he trailed behind, sealing the door with a resonant thud.

I surveyed the opulent room quickly. Silvery light slanted through the bay windows, the velvet window seat empty. The massive four-poster bed was perfectly made, deep sapphire covers tucked precisely beneath the frame. An ancient dire wolf pelt sprawled across the polished floor. An ornate dresser dominated one wall, while the left side opened to a luxurious bathroom with marble floors and a sunken bathing pool. My mother was nowhere in sight.

“What’s this about?” I demanded, my nerves on edge.

My father circled me like a predator, hands clasped behind his broad back. I tracked his every movement, coiled tight as a hunting cat. Finally, King Malachar stopped before me, eyes narrowed to violet slits.

“Why do you reek of werewolf?” The words were forged in steel. His nose wrinkled as he inhaled deeply. Fury twisted his sharp features. “A female werewolf’s essence clings to you like sin.”

Horror clawed at my chest, followed swiftly by disbelief. I quickly examined our bond mentally. It remained incomplete, hovering as a shimmering line between us. The ethereal cords glowed brilliantly—mine a deep violet flame, hers a radiant silver fire touched with gold. Relief flooded through me. We weren’t permanently bonded yet.

Can he sense the mating bond? How?

My father must have read the questions written across my face. “As your King, I possess the power to perceive the bonds that tie my people’s souls together. That includes yours.” He stepped closer until we were a breath apart, forcing me to stare into eyes that mirrored my own. “As your father… I sensed something had changed the moment I laid eyes on you. One scent told me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” I snarled, fists clenching.

“Don’t play games with me,” King Malachar hissed, shoulders taut with barely restrained rage. “I know you’ve been intimate with a female werewolf.”

My eyes flared wide. “Like hell I have,” I snapped. My blood boiled at his accusation. Did he think so little of me that I’d betray our people—betray my sacred promise to Rowan? I was pledged to his sister, for the gods’ sake!

King Malachar scoffed. “Please.” He brought his face close to mine. “I can smell her on your very skin!”

My mind flashed to embracing the princess in the gardens. Her brilliant sapphire eyes had fluttered closed as she’d melted into my touch, lips parted for the kiss that never came. Even now, my mouth watered for a taste of those perfect lips—to savour the feel of her soft curves pressed against my hardened body.

Desire stirred low in my belly, threatening to consume me.

I clenched my jaw, forcing down the lust that rode me mercilessly. “You smell her because we held each other,” I admitted through gritted teeth. “But I did not bed her!” My gaze implored his. “I would never betray my people like that. It’s unthinkable.”

My father searched my eyes, as if seeking the truth in their depths. I felt his penetrating stare straight through to my soul. I held his gaze, unwavering. Finally stepping back, the king granted me space. My lungs expanded as if they’d been starved for air.

Drawing a deep breath, my father said, “I believe you, son.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “I know how deeply your hatred for the werewolves runs.” His brow furrowed, confused. “But that still doesn’t explain why a female werewolf’s scent clings to your skin like a lover’s perfume.”

My jaw worked as I weighed my next words. Could I truly confess this to my father? That I’d found my destined mate among our sworn enemies? King Malachar was just and fair, but he was also a dominant alpha with a fierce temper.

I drew a steadying breath and straightened to my full height. “I met my mate at this summit. She’s…” I paused, watching cold realisation wash over my father’s face, his eyes widening in shock. Bile rose in my throat. “She’s the werewolf princess, Seraphina Nightclaw.”

Tense silence stretched between us like a blade. King Malachar shook his head slowly. “It cannot be,” he whispered. “Are you… are you certain?”

I dropped my head, tugging at my hair in agitation. “I wish to the gods I wasn’t, Father. But the female is my mate.”

My father turned away, his back ramrod straight. He placed his hands on his hips and bowed his head. For the first time in my life, the great King Malachar was speechless. Pain lanced through my heart, seeing him reduced to this because of me and my bond with our enemy. My fists trembled with the urge to destroy something. The dark powers within my core swelled, seeking release.

My father turned sideways, rubbing his chin as he cast me a calculating look.

The fine hairs at my nape rose in warning.

What is he thinking?

“This could work…” King Malachar murmured, giving a slow, contemplative nod. “This may be precisely what we need after all these centuries.”

I raised a brow, studying him through narrowed eyes. “What? What are you planning?”

My father glanced at me as if suddenly remembering my presence. He straightened and faced me fully. Moving closer, he said, “We must hurry to make the summit on time.” With that, he swept past me and exited.

I whirled, gaping at his retreating form. “What could work?” I demanded. Hurrying after him, I matched his quick strides. “Father, what in the gods’ names were you saying back there?”

“Don’t take that tone with me,” he warned, shooting me a sharp look. My jaw clenched. He looked ahead again. “Besides, you’ll discover it soon enough.”

Ice-cold dread slithered down my spine. Whatever my father was scheming, every instinct screamed that I would despise his plan.