Twice Tempted: Between Two Alphas (Mia and Cameron)

Chapter 95

Chapter Ninety-Five

I make it three steps down the stairs before I realize how stupid that plan is.

I don’t have my wolf. Eric would catch me before I made it off the airstrip.

One hint of betrayal from me, and he’d call the whole mission off.

Cam has our daughter right now. Eric is my link to Cam.

Eric can’t use his Alpha commands to compel me right now, but he doesn’t need to when he holds my

daughter’s fate in his hands.

So I join him at the bottom of the stairs. His face twitches, indicating that he’s communicating with

someone in his pack.

I want to ask who it is and what they’re talking about. I hate being in the dark like this. Without my wolf,

I’m not just cut off from half of myself—I’m cut off from everyone around me.

“Was that Cam? Is it about the baby?”

“I didn’t mean to call you that,” he says. “She was…well, I thought she was—”

“I don’t care about that,” I lie.

It stings. How could it not? I’ve spent half my life jealous of my sister. In the grand scheme of things, I

suppose we’re even—I kept Mia’s mate from her for years, she slept with mine—but thinking of Mia

and Eric together hurts.

Mia’s always had options. I’ve never had that luxury. Everything I have I’ve fought for tooth and nail, but

in the end I always wind up in the same place: with nothing.

“Eric, if there’s news about Merilee, you have to tell me,” I say.

“I will. But right now, you need to pull yourself together and follow my lead. We’ve got company.”

I tense, ready for an attack. But looking around the airstrip, I don’t see anyone but Eric and his flight

crew. They’re unloading our minimal baggage and getting the jet ready to fly back to Eric’s pack lands.

Whatever threat Eric sensed, I can’t find it.

Then a man approaches us from the hangar. He’s in a fur-lined cap, heavy work boots, and a waxed

coat. His face is lined with age. The knees of his canvas pants and the elbows of his jacket are well-

worn. He’s the picture of a born and bred Alaskan—and definitely human.

Not a threat, then.

“Are you MacPhearson?”

Eric approaches him with a broad, friendly smile.

“Yes. You must be Bill, our pilot.”

The men shake hands, but Bill eyes me warily the whole time.

“Quite a trek up here from California,” he says. “The place you folks are headed is pretty remote. This

is the most civilization you’re going to get. Fairbanks is a city by Alaska standards, but it’s no

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Eric slides an arm around my waist and pulls me close to his side like it’s the most natural thing in the

world. I try to put a few inches of space between us, but he’s holding me too tightly.

“My wife is from here. We just got married, and she’s giving me the grand tour of her home state,” Eric

explains.

Bill’s eyes flick to my coat and then up to my face.

“You look mighty nervous for someone coming home,” he says, not bothering to hide his suspicion.

I suppress a groan. Of course he’s suspicious of us.

From his point of view, this situation is littered with red flags. A large, domineering man just stepped out

of his private plane, trailed by a sickly, visibly miserable woman, so they can take a one-way flight into

the wilderness with insufficient supplies and experience. It’s a recipe for disaster.

Bill’s looking out for me, but I don’t need his help. I need his plane. So I do what Eric told me and follow

his lead.

“I’m happy to be home,” I reassure Bill. “We just had a bumpy flight so I’m not feeling my best.”

“If you think that jet was bumpy, you’re not going to be too happy with my plane, ma’am,” he says.

“I’ll be fine,” I insist. “I’m already feeling better.”

“I’d never let anything happen to her,” Eric agrees. “Her well-being is my top priority.”

The words ring true because Eric means them. As much as he might want to push me off a glacier, he

won’t do it.

Bill huffs out a sharp breath but doesn’t push the issue. He heads off to load our bags, muttering to

himself about “tourists with more money than sense.”

Eric keeps his arm locked around my waist. His grip is sturdy like he’s afraid my knees are going to

give out and I’m going to collapse. Or like he knows I thought about running.

“It was Cam,” he says quietly. “He and Mia are delayed. They’re going to bring Merilee to meet us as

soon as possible, but there’s been a…complication.”

Terror races through me. Okay, maybe there is a risk of me collapsing.

“Is Merilee okay? Did she get worse?”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s not Merilee. She’s the same as before.”

I don’t like the way he’s frowning. Whatever the complication is, it’s rattled him.

“Tell me, Eric. This delay affects my child. I deserve to know what’s going on.”

He sighs and squares his shoulders like he’s bracing himself for something.

“It’s Mia. She’s pregnant.”