WITH THE ALPHA

Part 9 ; Not yours? , Yours!

"Watch your words, Deviana. She is my mate!" Damian growled, the threat in his voice vibrating off the walls.
I merely smirked, turning around to waltz over to the head of the table and unceremoniously drop into Damian's vacant leather chair. My eyes flicked to Derick, then drifted across the room to the visiting delegates, before I spun the chair around to face the happy couple.
"Does your mate know I'm pregnant with your pups?" I asked smoothly, twirling a lock of hair around a well-manicured finger.
Carlisa gasped, a look of sheer, unadulterated shock washing over her face before she whipped around to glare at Damian. She slammed her palm against his chest. "Is this true?!" she shrieked. Damian didn't answer; he just leveled a murderous glare directly at me. I let out a light chuckle, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.
If I didn't make it out of this room alive by sunset, so be it. It was well worth the show. I didn't have much to live for anyway—not my scattered sisters, not these unborn pups, and certainly not some mystery mate. My life was already a complete hazard; adding more people into the mix only felt like extra dead weight.
"I hope you're ready to face the consequences of your actions, Deviana," Derick growled from across the table, slamming a heavy fist down. "This is blatant disrespect! Do you not recognize your Alpha?"
"Shut it," I commanded coldly.
Audible whispers broke out among the council. Both Damian and Derick let out furious, syncopated growls.
Damian marched toward me with a slow, lethal stride, and I braced myself for the blow. "Hit me right here, baby," I taunted with a bitter laugh, tapping my own cheek.
He raised his hand, broad palm winded back to strike, when a deafening roar tore through the boardroom. The sheer power of the sound rattled the floorboards, freezing everyone in place. A collective wave of panic and awe gripped the room.
Damian stopped dead, his eyes darting toward the far end of the long conference table. I followed his gaze, landing on a man sitting with an expression of quiet, lethal fury. He tapped his fingers lazily against the polished wood, looking utterly bored, yet his eyes burned with terrifying intensity.
"Is this how an Alpha of Werewolves acts? Shameful," the man murmured, lifting his gaze to lock onto Damian. "A absolute tragedy that our shared genes ended up here."
"Alpha Zehr, I offer my deepest apologies—" Derick began, rubbing his temples frantically, but the man held up a single hand to cut him off instantly.
"You were about to strike a woman. Right in front of me," Zehr stated smoothly.
"She lacks basic manners!" Damian barked back, attempting to defend himself.
"I don't think I made my point clear enough." Zehr pushed his chair back, the soft scrape echoing like a thunderclap in the silent room. He rounded the table, every slow, deliberate step radiating an oppressive authority that made everyone in the room stiffen. "You were about to strike a woman in front of my eyes. Not just any woman—my mate."
A collective gasp rippled through the room. "Your mate?" Derick breathed out, his face draining of color.
"Yes. Is there a problem?" Zehr asked, a half-smirk playing on his lips as he mocked Damian's ash-pale expression.
"Your mate is a whore!" a high-ranking Scarlet Black pack member yelled out from the back.
"I know," Zehr replied seamlessly, shrugging off the insult as if it were a mild observation. "That doesn't make her any less lovely in my eyes."
He stepped up to my chair, and my breath hitched. Zehr dropped to one knee before me, taking my gloved hand and gently pressing his lips to the back of my knuckles. "In fact... she's more than lovely the closer I look."
I stared at him, my mind spinning. What is wrong with this man? Did he not hear what they just said about me? How can he display this kind of devotion after everything I've done?
Up close, his features were breathtakingly sculpted. He had plush pink lips, dark lashes framing hunter-shaped copper eyes that seemed to pull you into an endless abyss, and jet-black hair that fell loosely across his forehead. I watched as he tried to brush his dark locks back, only for them to fall right back into his eyes. Reaching out impulsively, I helped him, gently tucking the strands back myself.
"Oh, spare me the ridiculous drama," Carlisa scoffed, rolling her eyes as she reached out to grab Zehr's shoulder. "You can't possibly accept her, Zehr! She's carrying this pack's pups!"
Zehr slowly repositioned himself, standing up tall. I looked up at him, genuinely curious about his answer myself.
"I know I'm pregnant," I interjected, looking up into his copper gaze. "I don't expect you to accept me like this. You'd probably just kill the pups once they're born anyway, so it's better if we just go our separate ways—"
A low, warning growl rumbled from deep within his chest, cutting me off instantly.
"I am your mate, and we are destined to be together," Zehr said, his voice firm and unwavering. "I will not let outside circumstances dictate our future."
"But Zehr—" Carlisa tried to interrupt again.
Zehr whipped his head around and roared viciously at her. "Shut it! It's Alpha Zehr to you."
I blinked, a sudden spark of arousal fluttering in my chest. God, I love a commanding man.
"And I don't know where you got the absurd idea that I would harm your children," Zehr continued, turning his gaze back to me with a surprisingly soft expression. "I don't possess the primal, destructive instincts of a basic wolf. We Lycans are not ruled by feral beast minds like you Werewolves."
"So what are you saying, Zehr?" Damian demanded, stepping forward.
"I'm saying I accept her. Fully," Zehr stated, rubbing his brow in annoyance at the constant questioning.
"You can't take her," Derick and Damian said in unison, stepping up shoulder-to-shoulder to block his path.
"And why is that?" Zehr asked coldly, lowering his hand to rest near his hip.
"Because she isn't leaving this pack," Damian growled, his golden eyes flaring. "Not while she carries our blood."