Claimed by the Alphas: Part Six by Viola Rivard

CHAPTER ONE
     
     
    Mila had gone to sleep being held by Asch. In spite of everything that had happened, she’d wanted to do a whole lot more than just be held by him. It had been two weeks since she’d seen him, smelled him, and been touched by him. The man could kiss like nobody’s business, and while Caim was still discovering the ways to please her, Asch knew every dip and curve of her body, and he knew just how to touch and tease her. Tired from a long trip, the alpha had been immune to her feminine wiles, and had insisted that she get her rest, and that there’d be time for that later.
     
    But when she awoke , Asch was gone. She fumbled around in the bedroll, squinting into the darkness, but there was no one there. For the first time in a while, Mila had woken alone. She sat for a moment and rubbed her head, feeling disoriented. Briefly, she wondered if she’d dreamt of the cats attacking and of Asch’s return. Then, her stomach turned on her.
     
    Mila shot up from the bed, nearly stumbling over the blankets and furs. Clearing the room in a frantic dash, she barely made it to her tub before losing her dinner. After the meager portions of venison, came bile, followed by dry heaving. When it finally seemed to pass, Mila felt as though all of the energy had been wrung out of her. She sank to the floor and leaned her head against the rim of the tub, grateful for the feeling of cold metal against her hot flesh.
     
    She placed her hand over her stomach, knowing that she hadn’t dreamt any of it. Asch was home, the cats had attacked, and she was pregnant. Her stomach lurched again, as if in confirmation. She squeezed her eyes shut, wincing as the wave of nausea passed.
     
    She looked down at her belly. “So this is how it’s going to be, kid?”
     
    Was it too early to talk to it? It probably didn’t even have ears yet. Or fingers, or toes. Or did it? Mila ran a hand through her hair and frowned. How far along was she? One week, two weeks, when does the count even begin? How long would she be pregnant? Nine months, but was that at the beginning or at the end of nine months? Wasn’t she supposed to take vitamins?
     
    Question after question raced through her mind, only to crash in a horrific pile-up when confronted with her complete ignorance and lack of preparation. Her thoughts spiraling towards self-loathing, she didn’t hear anyone approaching until the flap was pulled back on her doorway.
     
    Brae stepped in, looking as lovely as ever. Her snow-white hair was gathered in a thick braid and tossed casually over one shoulder. Mila had trouble making out her expression in the darkness, but she could tell that Brae was smiling broadly.
     
    “Mila,” she said emphatically. “I’ve missed you.”
     
    Reacting on instinct, Mila opened her arms. Brae dashed over, scooping Mila up into her arms. For once, it didn’t bother Mila that they were both naked. She hugged Brae’s cool body tightly, her eyes misting over at her friend’s familiar touch.
     
    “I missed you, too,” she said into Brae’s neck.
     
    Mila let Brae hold her for a couple of minutes, until she realized that she was mostly leaning on Brae for support. She pulled back, keeping a hand on Brae’s shoulder to remain steady.
     
    “ Do you need to rest?” asked Brae, looking concerned. Mila waved her hand dismissively.
     
    “No, no, I’m okay. How are you? How did things go with um,” she searched her foggy mind, and then snapped her fingers, “Blackthorn! How did that go?”
     
    Brae shook her head, smiling. She put her hands on Mila’s shoulders. “Don’t worry about that stuff. I want to know about you. How are you feeling?” Her grin widened. “What did Caim do when he found out?”
     
    Mila blinked at her, momentarily confused. At Brae’s expectant look, realization dawned on her. “Oh! You mean the baby. Yeah, he was happy,” her brows furrowed, “at least I think he was. We didn’t really have a whole lot of time