Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 54

Chapter 54

“Drake,” she whispered, panic rising in her scent. “What’s happening to me?”

“It’s just a heavy period, I lied, keeping my voice as neutral as possible. The words felt like ash on my tongue. “The doctor

said the combination of alcohol poisoning and severe gastritis triggered excessive menstrual bleeding.”

She stared at me, her eyes searching mine. She’d always been too perceptive for her own good. Always could see through my

bullshit. Would she now?

“My period isn’t due for another week,” she said. “I’m always regular.”

I shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “The doctor said stress and alcohol can disrupt your cycle.”

A new scent hit me-fear mixed with something like realization. My heart rate accelerated. Shit. Did she know? Had she

suspected?

“Drake… what if I’m pregnant? What if this is something worse than a period?”

My face went rigid. The question hammered at my defenses. Had she known all along?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said quickly. “It’s just your period, made worse by all the alcohol you consumed.”

I could see suspicion in her eyes. She always could read me too well. Ten years at my side had taught her every microexpression, every tell. Just like I knew hers.

“I think I should talk to the doctor myself,” she said.

Fuck. “He’s busy with other patients right now,” I replied, too quickly even to my own ears. “Rest. I’ll have him come by later.”

She leaned back against the pillow, clearly too exhausted to press the issue. Thank god for small mercies. I was counting on that exhaustion to buy me time to make sure the doctor stuck to our story.

I watched as her eyes closed, her face relaxed in artificial sleep. I studied the curve of her cheek, the sweep of her lashes, trying not to think about whose features our child might have had. Would they have had her golden hair? My eyes? Her gentle nature or my stubborn pride?

Fuck, what was I doing? Mourning a child I never wanted with a woman I was pushing away? Pathetic. Weak. Unworthy of an

Alpha.

Yet I couldn’t stop the thoughts, couldn’t stem the tide of might-have-beens that crashed through my mind.

1/3

I left the hospital as soon as Elsa fell back asleep, instructing a nurse to call me when she woke again. In the parking lot, I sat in my car, staring at the bloodstains on the light gray floor mats.

Her blood. And our child’s.

The mixture of emotions churning inside me was unwelcome and intense. Disgust at the mess. Anger that she’d been drinking so heavily while pregnant, even unknowingly. And something deeper, more painful-a hollow ache I refused to acknowledge

but couldn’t deny.

I called my driver.

“Replace all the floor mats in the car,” I ordered, my voice tight. “Get black ones this time, not gray.”

“Yes, sir. Anything else?”

My eyes caught on the small silver wolf charm hanging from the mirror and the subtle scent diffuser Elsa had chosen years ago, claiming it would help with my stress headaches. And goddamn her, it had worked. Every time I got in this car, her scent

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