Alpha’s Regret-My Luna Has A Son

Chapter 9

Valen POV

The sun was searing my eyes out of my head as it lit up the back of my eyelids. I was just about to force myself up when Marcus burst into my room, the door slamming into the wall loudly, the noise rattling my already pounding headache.

“Ah, good you’re up,” he says just as I sit up, rubbing my eyes. I wave him off, but he doesn’t leave. Instead, leaning on the wall beside my dresser.

“What?” I ask, my head pounding in my skull. I look around my room to find some redhead in my bed and groan, praying I used a rubber. She was tangled in the sheets, and just seeing her there irritated me. Stupid dick; why does it always pick bimbos.

“The rogue girl in my room, where did she go?” Huh? What the fuck is he talking about? I was too hungover for his dramas this morning. I stare at the woman in my bed. Her hair spread out on the pillow while ignoring my Beta.

“Oi, whatever your name is, get up,” I tell her shoving her shoulder. She groans, rolling over flashing us her tits. I growl at her, and Marcus snorts.

“Get rid of her,” I tell Marcus, getting up to pee. I push the bathroom door open, my senses coming alert. I could smell some faint scent in here. It made my mouth water but was so faint, making me wonder what chemicals the cleaning lady was using.

“Valen, the girl in my room, where is she?” Marcus asks, following me to the bathroom.

“What girl?” I mutter, shaking my dick before pulling my pants up. I spot the trash can and see a used condom, thank fuck for that. I think to myself.

“The rogue girl, Everly. I picked her up last night and brought her here,” Marcus says, and I pinch the bridge of my nose trying to remember last night.

My head was pounding, but I remember coming home, and the slag in my bed was whining about a rogue before it clicked, coming back to me. But I couldn’t remember her face. However, something was nagging me about the situation.

“Wait, you brought her here?” I ask, peering over at my Beta leaning on the bathroom door. Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“Yes, and she has a name Everly, her and her son; I found them sleeping at the train station.”

“What?” I ask, horrified looking at him.

“She had no kid with her,” I tell him, and he looks at me, his lips pulling back over his teeth.

“Valen?” He growls; if he was anyone else. I would knock him on his ass for taking that tone with me, he is lucky he is my best friend, or he would be lying unconscious on the floor.

“Grab my keys; I didn’t know she had a fucking kid. I never would have kicked her out last night if I had known,” I tell him.

“Are you fucking serious? It was pouring with rain,” Marcus snaps at me.

I suddenly felt terrible, praying I didn’t hurt her; I couldn’t remember. My memory is hazy, and I am sure I was still pretty intoxicated with the way the ground kept moving as I walked.

The woman in the bed stirs, sitting up and rubbing her eyes before running a hand through her hair. I roll my eyes at her grabbing some shorts from my walk-in and a shirt.

“Get your shit and get out,” I snap at her, scooping up her dress and chucking it at her.

“Baby, what’s got into” fuck me, why they gotta be such cling ons.

“Don’t baby me, get the fuck out of my bed and packhouse,” I snap at her. She wasn’t one of my pack members. God knows where I picked her up from.

“Out now!” I yell at her, forcing my Alpha aura over her. She jumps up, tugging the dress over her head before grabbing her shoes. She shoulder barges Marcus on her way out the door, and I grab my keys off the dresser. Hoping I didn’t destroy my car again driving home drunk.

“You’re not driving; you still look half tanked. Hurry up, maybe she went back to her car,” Marcus says. I feel guilty as shit knowing I kicked the girl out in the rain with a baby. If Marcus brought her here, she must have been in dire straits because Marcus never brings anyone to the packhouse.

“What did you say her name was again?” I ask, wondering why he was so interested in this rogue.

“Everly, she smelt familiar…” he says thoughtfully.

“And I can officially say you aren’t the only freak with eyes like your father.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her son, he had the same eyes as you, freaky as fuck, could almost pass him off to be your son,” he chuckles.

I shove my feet in my shoes, growling at his words. That’s the last thing I needed, an illegitimate child. It would be another thing for my father to breathe down my neck about.

“What you never know, you have a new girl on your arm every night probably have fifty kids you are unaware of,” Marcus laughs.

“How old is she?”

“Dunno, but I could tell she hadn’t shifted yet, so must be young,” he says with a shrug.

“Well, not mine then; I won’t go near jailbait.”

“She wasn’t that young, probably eighteen. Well, nearly seeing as she hadn’t shifted,” he says.

“Did she say what pack she is from?”

“Nope”

“Well, come on, let’s see if we can find her. Maybe they might have room at one of the hostels to put her in for a few weeks” They really need to get rid of that law. We have a few what the other packs would call rogue whores in our Pack, disgusting how the other Packs just turn their backs on them.

I sat in the passenger seat of Marcus’s car, the motion making my stomach turn as I press my head against the window. I must have nodded off because I woke up to Marcus shaking my shoulder. Looking up, we were pulling into the transition on no man’s land.

“That is her car,” Marcus says, pointing to a rundown wagon.

“Well, go on, see if your damsel in distress wants to be saved,” I tell him, waving him off. It was pretty overcast today; the storm last night was massive, giant puddles in the car park had ducks swimming around in them, making my guilt worse knowing I forced a woman and baby out in this weather. He looks in the windows, and I sigh, tossing the door open and walking over to him.

“She isn’t here; I wonder where she went?” He says, looking around before walking off toward the train station.

“I will see if the guards are on and if they have seen her,” He sings out over his shoulder. I peer in the windows of the busted-up wagon. The thing looked like a death trap.

The car’s rear was like a mini grocery department of baby items, tins of formula, and nappies. Canned food, a duvet, and a pillow. Hardly any personal items, yet I could see a photo album jammed between the passenger and driver’s seat.

Marcus comes back, shaking his head. CCTV shows she left this morning with a bag and her son.

“Might have gone home?” I suggest, and he shrugs. Walking to his car. He opens the backdoor before pulling out a baby capsule. I help him by placing it beside her car before rummaging around for a pen and paper.

“Leave a note with your number. You think she would contact you?” I ask him, and he nods, finding an old envelope, scrawling his number on it, and putting some money in it to use a payphone if she hasn’t got a phone. He places the note inside the capsule; I look around at the clouds. It looked like rain was going to come back.

“It will get wet, give the note and car seat to security to give to her,” I tell him, and Marcus nods, walking off toward the train station with the capsule in his arms. Not much we could do when she wasn’t here, and I needed to go crawl back in bed or get my stomach pumped; either would do if it meant getting rid of this sickly feeling in my guts and this pounding headache.