Page 9 of The Pregnant Wolf Omega Next Door

Zenith huffed. “There’s enough space in there.”

“I’m not going to ask to check your pants,” Emre blurted, instantly regretting his entire existence. “I’m not going to ask if you’re wearing underwear, either.”

Zenith laughed, bright and hearty.

When the food was plated, Zenith brought it over to Emre’s bed, sitting on the opposite end of the mattress from Abbie. The pup looked at him curiously, then scampered over and sniffed his knee.

Zenith froze. He looked bewildered, then amazed. His face softened.

Emre accepted the smaller plate of food, his heart thumping. “That’s Abbie. She’s eight months old, and she likes being scratched behind her ears.”

Zenith carefully reached down to do that. Abbie wriggled around onto her back and nipped at his fingers; Zenithlet her.

“Abbie! Don’t bite!” Emre yelped.

“It’s fine,” Zenith said, perfectly willing to be Abbie’s chew toy. No other alpha had been this laid-back about it. “She’s beautiful.” He grinned when she grew bored and raced off, his gaze drifting to Emre’s swollen belly. “Is your other baby also...?”

“Also a wolf pup.” Emre rubbed his belly. “Makes me crave raw meat.”

Zenith grinned, suddenly proud. “Your steak is rare; I only seared it on the outside.”

Emre’s heart fluttered. “That’s... You’re doing a lot for me.”

Zenith shrugged easily and didn’t look away. “You’re special.”

Emre didn’t know what to say to that, so he stuffed his steak into his mouth. And belatedly remembered his manners.

This left him staring awkwardly at Zenith, the slab of meat hanging from his teeth. “Um.”

Zenith laughed. “Go ahead and eat it. I just hope you’ll enjoy my food.”

Emre tore off some meat and swallowed, moaning at its tenderness. “It’s so good.”

Zenith cleared his throat, his gaze turning intent.

After a lifetime of his pack telling him he should behave primly and demurely so alphas would think he was acceptable, it was amazing to learn that he could drip steak juices everywhere, and Zenith would still look at him like he wasdesirable.

“Oh,” Emre mumbled, shocked.

He tried to eat more tidily and failed, but Zenith stuck around anyway, watching him and Abbie.

Actually, Zenith had pushed claws out of his own fingertips, and he was using them to carefully separate his steak into smaller pieces.

“You don’t use cutlery?” Emre blurted.

Zenith shrugged. “I thought I would try it this way, since you seem comfortable doing the same.”

Only then did Emre see the clean knives and forks on Zenith’s other side, forgotten.

He gulped, oddly touched.

Then he wondered what the chances were, that someone like Zenith would want a nobody like him. There was somethingotherabout Zenith, Emre knew. Something powerful and strong. It almost felt... familiar.

“How old are you?” he blurted.

“Not too old. A hundred and twelve.” A shadow flickered in Zenith’s eyes. Then the alpha blinked, and it was gone.

Emre gaped. “That’s ‘not old’?!”