Bully Alpha Firefighter: Rejected Mate Pregnancy Romance, page 1
Bully Alpha Firefighter
Rejected Mate Pregnancy Romance
Honeyville Firefighter Shifters Book 1
Blue Thorne
Copyright © 2024 by Blue Thorne.
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of the book only. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form, including recording, without prior written permission from the publisher, except for brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1 - Wendy
Chapter 2 - Ayden
Chapter 3 - Wendy
Chapter 4 - Ayden
Chapter 5 - Wendy
Chapter 6 - Ayden
Chapter 7 - Wendy
Chapter 8 - Ayden
Chapter 9 - Wendy
Chapter 10 - Ayden
Chapter 11 - Wendy
Chapter 12 - Ayden
Chapter 13 - Wendy
Chapter 14 - Wendy
Chapter 15 - Ayden
Chapter 16 - Wendy
Chapter 17 - Ayden
Chapter 18 - Wendy
Chapter 19 - Ayden
Chapter 20 - Wendy
Chapter 21 - Ayden
Chapter 22 - Wendy
Chapter 23 - Ayden
Chapter 24 - Wendy
Chapter 25 - Ayden
Chapter 26 - Wendy
Chapter 27 - Ayden
Chapter 28 - Wendy
Chapter 29 - Ayden
Chapter 30 - Wendy
About the Author
Books by Blue Thorne
Chapter 1 - Wendy
I swallowed as I stood in front of the door. The fogged glass made me freeze, knowing what waited for me behind it. My fingers shook as I tried to put the key into the lock, missing it three times in a row. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the brisk air to fill my lungs.
I had contemplated staying at a hotel, but I knew that would be stupid. If I were being honest, I'd rather sleep outside with the snow than enter the house. But I had to go inside, so I needed to remind myself I was okay. I was only going to be here for a short time, and then I was getting out of this town as fast as I could.
The key slipped into place, and I unlocked the door. I swung it open and stepped inside. My entire body tensed up as my eyes took in my childhood home. Nothing had changed since I left seven years ago.
Tears welled in my eyes as I thought of all the wonderful memories, but that’s how they will always remain—just memories. I would never sit at the kitchen island and catch up with my mother over what happened during the day. I wouldn't walk by the bathroom and see her curling her hair, humming along to some song she loved. I was never going to say any of the things that I'd been wanting to say for years.
I pulled my suitcase inside, shutting the door behind me. I slid my shoes off and hung my jacket up when I noticed pictures lining the entryway and down the hallway. I had almost forgotten how much my mother loved to take photographs. I walked down the hall, looking at each of them.
I remembered birthdays and Christmases fondly from when I was young. There were pictures of us on vacation to warmer places, and I smirked, remembering how we would always return with such bad sunburn.
I slipped into the kitchen, looking for my mother, even though I knew I wasn't going to find her. My heart ached, spotting all her pots and pans that hung above the island, knowing I would never see them used again.
I rubbed my eyes, exhausted from the plane ride in. I turned and stiffened as my eyes landed on at least ten more pictures staring at me. I scowled because these were a little more recent. These photos were taken when I had become more self-conscious about my weight. When my entire world flipped upside down.
I looked away and headed through the doorway into the living room. Everything was the same from when I remembered it. She had the piano crammed in the corner, and the couch was pressed under the bay window, leaving a glare on the TV. She had plants that scattered the room, which pulled the space together nicely.
And the photos. God, she had even more photos in here. She had photos of high school and a couple right before graduation. She had my ribbons on top of the piano with a couple of awards I’d won. Just looking at everything made me feel like the wound was fresh all over again. I swallowed, feeling a ball form in my throat as I tried to hold myself together.
I can’t stay here with my past staring at me.
I quickly shook my head and reached for the first frame.
I spent twenty minutes tearing everything down: every award, ribbon, and picture that reminded me of my joy. I grabbed a box and tossed it all inside. I headed up the stairs, and my body froze.
I spotted the bedroom doors, mine to the right and my mother's to the left. It felt like someone had dumped an ice bucket over my entire body. It was one thing for me to see the main space, but it was entirely another thing for me to enter my room.
I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, and the little voice in my head was screaming for me to get out.
Just leave. You don’t have to do this. She isn’t here anymore.
I set the box down and went back down the stairs. I grabbed the front door handle and paused. Could I really just run? Could I just leave everything behind?
I’d done it before, but this was different. My mother was no longer here, and if I really wanted any closure, it was now or never.
I let go of the door and turned back to the stairs. I didn’t need to go upstairs. Correction: I refused to go upstairs, but that was fine because everything I needed was down here.
My phone rang, and I jumped. I turned, looking at my purse, and saw my screen lighting up. I grabbed it, seeing it was Julia, my friend from Ohio. I answered it and softly smiled. “I’m still alive,” I said, knowing what her first question would be. “I just arrived.”
“Well, I'm glad to hear it,” she said, comforting me. What are you doing? Did you get in there yet, or are you still standing on the porch?”
I headed down the entryway back to the living room and frowned when I spotted a photo I missed. I grabbed it, turning it face down. “Yes, I’m inside. I forgot how many photos of me my mother had, though.”
“Which makes me question, when was the last time you’ve been home?”
I hadn’t told anyone why I left. When I moved to Ohio, I decided to keep my past in the past and move forward. When people asked, I always just lied and said I had no time. It wasn’t entirely wrong because I was busy.
In truth, I didn’t fit into the shifter world, and growing up, everyone made sure I knew it.
Julia was my closest friend, and she didn’t even know the truth about everything that happened to me, so I wanted to keep it that way.
I shrugged, sitting down on the couch. “I just never found the time. She came to visit me when she was free. She understood how important work was for me, so it wasn’t a big deal.” Another lie.
My mother had often asked me to come home, but I’d refused. I left the pack and everyone behind. I didn’t want to come back and reopen the wounds I worked so hard to close. And now I had no choice.
“I’m only here for little more than a week, and then I’m coming home. Her funeral is next Sunday, and I’ll be back that following Monday morning.”
I could hear shuffling through the phone before Julia spoke up in a questioning tone. “You’re going to sell the house and everything within that time? Isn’t there paperwork and meetings you have to go to? What about bank accounts and everything you want to keep? You’re going to need more time than a week and a half, Wendy.”
I shrugged because I knew that I didn’t. “No, I’ll list it, but the realtor can handle the rest. I already spoke with her, and she said she would. I don’t really need to be here because I can do everything else through email or phone calls.”
Julia went quiet, which only happened when she had something to say. I sighed, leaning forward on the couch, and rested my hand on my knee. “What? I know you want to say something. I can physically feel the way you're probably biting on your lip.”
Julia sighed softly. “I just feel it’s fast. Your mom died, Wendy. Don’t you have to grieve? I know you're trying to get this all done and move on, but it doesn’t feel healthy.”
I grieved seven years ago when I left. I’d grieved over everything, and now I had moved on. I didn’t want to feel because then I would think of everything else. I didn’t want to think about how she was so focused on making me a mini version of her that she never saw me for who I was. I didn’t want to think about all the shit I was forced to take when I was younger. I'd have to think about him.
I felt tears bloom, and I quickly wiped them away. I shook my head, reminding myself that I was no longer that weak girl anymore. “I have a deadline at work.”
Julia’s voice dropped into irritation. “Wendy, again, this is your mother. You have time off from them. Everyone would understand if you didn’t come back right away.”
I did have time off. My work gave me a month off, which I told my boss I wouldn’t need, but he told me to take it. I had no idea what I was going to do with the rest of my time, but I sure as hell wasn’t staying in Honeyville for a goddamn month. I’d burn the fucking place down before I’d agree to that.
“I have to go,” I said, ending the line before she could say anything. I loved Julia like a sister
I turned and frowned when I spotted a photo of her hanging over the piano. I scowled, taking in her perfect hair and her sweet smile. I remembered her last words to me when I was moving out, and they sent a chill down my spine.
“Wendy, I didn’t raise you just to give up! I have worked so hard to give you this life. I’ve invested so much in you, and you just want to throw it away! Do you have any idea what people are going to say to me!? This is a pack! You can’t just decide to leave!”
We had been fighting, and I had snapped. It was the weekend of graduation, and she wanted to throw me a party. My mother had explained she got me a shadowing position at her job, but instead, I dropped the bomb that I wasn’t walking at graduation and that by the time everyone was throwing their hats in the air, I was going to be on a plane to Ohio.
I squeezed my eyes shut, still remembering the pure rage that filled her eyes. She’d been furious. She didn’t understand why I wanted to leave. She said everyone has a hard time in school and has a first heartbreak. But I wasn’t like everyone, and everyone, including her, had made that clear.
Everyone else had been able to shift, but I hadn’t. Everyone was finding their mate, but I didn’t. Everyone was so excited for the future, but I wasn’t. I knew that I would never thrive in town, and I’d made the decision to leave.
When I left, I hadn’t heard from her for several months before she showed up at my place. Our relationship had been complicated to begin with, but it became even more strained after that. We never spoke about our fight, but it had changed everything.
I grabbed my suitcase from the front and pulled it down to the living room. I threw it onto the couch and sat down next to it. I sighed. “Just a week and a half, and I’ll be out of here.”
I opened my suitcase, and my eyes landed on my spell book. Moving away had been the best thing for me because I found out that I wasn’t just a failed shifter like everyone had thought. I was a witch.
I opened the book, my fingers grazing over the pages. It comforted me, and I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking of which spell I should practice.
I had been trying to learn what I could from another witch I’d met. She told me I had a lot to catch up on since I never learned anything from when I was little. It made me a little angrier at my mother.
My mother had been so focused on getting me to shift for years that I never tapped into my powers until I was an adult. I couldn’t blame her for not knowing since my father was the result of a brief affair. She’d still get a bit misty-eyed talking about how hard she’d fallen for him, but then he’d left, and she couldn’t trace him. She clearly had no idea he’d been a witch. Though I wonder if that’s why he’d left, knowing their relationship would never be accepted by the pack.
I shook my head and looked back at the book. I stared at the words, allowing them to center me, and smiled. “All right, let’s try a healing spell…”
Chapter 2 - Ayden
I flipped through the newspaper, drowning all the guys out as they arrived for their shift. It was still early, and the only pressing issue today was deep cleaning the kitchen, which none of us liked to do.
"Hey, Alpha, are we still cleaning the kitchen today?"
I could hear my dragon smirk at the name; even after all these years of hearing it, he still purred like a goddamn cat at the title. I worked hard to earn it, and we both knew it.
I glanced up from the paper, spotting Lucas and Miles standing in front of the fridge with the door wide open. Lucas was about 6'0 with pure black hair and light green eyes. He always held a very serious expression, even now.
Miles stood next to him, just a few inches short with a buzz cut. He smirked at Lucas, an idea forming in his head.
"How about you smell the oldest container in here and let us know."
I smirked as Lucas glared at Miles, clearly annoyed—the two often butted heads because of how different they were.
Miles grabbed a container and opened it, waving it at Lucas, who took a step back, pulling a hand up, ready to hit him. "It's too early for your jokes, man. Knock it off!"
I looked between the two of them and then into the fridge. "Does it smell like a dead carcass when you open it?"
Miles looked over his shoulder at me. "Slightly."
"Then you have your answer," I said, looking back at the newspaper, ignoring them as they continued to bicker back and forth. I flipped the page, and my eyes paused on one of the names in the obituary. Rose Lynne Huffer. I felt my heart flutter thinking about Wendy Huffer.
I hadn't thought about her in a while, besides at graduation when everyone was wondering where she was. Well, it was more like everyone was whispering about different rumors about her.
"What are you looking at so intently?" Owen stopped next to me, tossing his gym bag onto the ground. Even coming from the gym, he looked like a model. He had light blond hair and the sort of bright blue eyes that the girls fawn over. I couldn't even insult Owen because he was nice, too nice sometimes.
"The obituaries," I said, going with the simple answer. If I had said the name, Owen would have known there was more to it since we had gone to high school together. It would bring up the past and the question everyone had wondered. What happened to Wendy?
He shook his head, grabbed a banana off the counter, and peeled it. "You really shouldn't read those. It puts you in a mood."
I rolled my eyes, looking back at it. I read through the little details with it. I frowned, realizing she was one of the six that were involved in the pile-up we had a week ago. We ended up only saving one because of how bad everything was.
Was there going to be a funeral? If so, would Wendy show up? I'd heard through the grapevine that she'd moved away. No one had any idea where, and no one dared ask her mother.
The fire bell rang loudly, and everyone stopped moving, looking over at me. I set the paper down and watched as the phone for the station rang. Lucas answered it, his eyebrows quickly knitted together as he listened for a moment. His eyes snapped at me as his eyebrows went up.
"Fire on 45th street, Alberton road. House 345."
I knew the address. That was Roses's house, which meant only one thing. Wendy was home. Suddenly, I felt my heart skip a beat, and I curled my hands into fists.
"Gear up," I said, pushing out of my chair. Everyone was moving, hurrying down to the fire trucks, slipping into their gear. We were all ready and leaving within a minute's flat. I knew because I just timed them all last week.
We were heading down the road, and I turned my headset on. "Lucas, what's the details?"
Lucas's voice snapped through the headset in a calm voice. "Small house fire. Started in the living room, the neighbors called it in."
I suddenly felt my heart flutter. I scowled, hating the timing. It had been happening over the past two days. It wasn't my excitement either: It was like knowing something was coming back to haunt me.
My dragon grumbled with discomfort, and it made me pause for a moment—just a moment before I shook it off. We didn’t have time for this.
We pulled up at the house and could see smoke coming from the back, and everyone looked at me for their orders once more. "Justin and Owen go around back. The rest of you, we're going through the front. Get the hose ready."
We were moving, and I headed to the front, taking in the porch. There was a bench swing and flowers potted all over the porch. I swallowed, feeling my heart skip a beat once more.
I could smell wood burning, and the guys were speaking into their headsets. "We are in the back. Looks like it's just the living room so far, but it's heading up. We need to get moving."
We didn't have a lot of time. I quickly kicked the door down, and smoke poured out of the house. Heat instantly hit me, and I could hear Miles behind me. "Fuck!"
I stepped inside, taking a quick glance around. I'd never seen the inside of the house, and to my surprise, it looked bare. My eyes froze when I spotted legs in the living room doorway, and I realized someone was lying on the ground. My heart stopped beating.
I moved quickly, hurrying across the space. "I found someone."
I grabbed her, scooping her into my arms, noticing she was clutching a book tightly to her chest. Her eyes snapped open, and I felt a heart rush over me. I knew it wasn't from the fire. It was because I was holding Wendy. She started to wiggle, kicking her legs as I hoisted her up.
