Alpha Symptoms

Chapter 67

okay so I wanted to end it at the last chapter but I wasn't satisfied with it enough because I still feel like there are a lot of unanswered questions. please leave a comment of any questions you have after this chapter so I can resolve them in the epilogue and the bonus chapters. happy reading!

Emerald's POV

I woke up excited that day. Damon had told me we were going to go have a small barbecue with everyone for dinner, away from the madness that still was the pack. I loved the pack, I really did, but I had been back less than a week and people were still crying, jumping at me. It was just a little bit... overwhelming. Especially after we had had a party already to celebrate my return, where I had spoken with most of the pack.

I was a buzz of excitement that entire day, and I think Damon was amused with me. He hadn't told me much about it besides that we were going to a barbecue with friends, and I had been questioning him all day.

Finally, the time arrived to get ready, and I had been so excited until I opened my closet. Nothing fit me anymore, and if it did it didn't fit the same. Everything was too big.

I had sat on the bed staring at my closet for a while, and by the time Damon had come it of the shower and noticed I hadn't done anything, I wouldn't have had enough time to get ready.

"Why aren't you getting ready?" He had asked, softly drying his black hair with a towel.

I turned and shrugged. "I'm not feeling so well. I don't think I'm going to go." I lied, acting like this wasn't my plan. I wanted to go, but I didn't have anything nice to wear that fit.

Damon raised his eyebrow, but he didn't look like he believed me. He came over and stood in front of me, blocking my view of the closet.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his hand coming up to my face to pull the fallen strands of hair out of my face.

"I—I'm just not feeling well, that's all." I lied again. It hurt to lie to him, but I wasn't going to tell him about the clothes issue. Not after I had been telling him I was making an effort to gain weight and that I thought I was, even though neither were true. Every time I ate, I remembered how Nikolai would call me fat and make me lose weight. I couldn't gain any more pounds. What if Damon thought I was fat?

Damon looked me up and down, before his eyes stopped on my stomach. "You aren't—no, you can't be. Are you pregnant?" He asked, his voice quiet.

We had been safe. I had made sure. I was not ready to be a mother, nor was he ready to take on another responsibility.

"No, it's just a little cold. No babies." I explained.

Damon looked back into my eyes again. "You don't get sick easily. Werewolves don't get sick easily." He shut his eyes and stepped back away from me, running a frustrated hand through his hair. The movement made his arm muscles flex, which were on full display due to him just having gotten out of the shower in only a towel. I stared.

"I am trying to be as understanding as I can be, but you aren't telling me the truth about anything anymore. You're constantly lying to me, and I can't do anything for you to make you happy if you don't start telling the truth. I just want you to be happy." He finished, his voice exasperated.

I felt a pain in my chest. I didn't realize he had caught on, and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him.

I stood up and walked over to the foot of the bed, pacing, my hands pulling my hair back. Now I couldn't lie.