THIRTY-SIX

ARIA

Something was wrong. The way he'd dashed out of the penthouse told me that things were far from okay. I thought he was overdoing it by moving his work home to keep an eye on me. It's not like I was invalid or in some kind of trouble, and I didn't like that the whole atmosphere was strained and awkward while he was around, but I became overly worried when he left.

Mostly, I hated sitting back and not knowing what was going on with him and not being able to help out. I was worried that I'd spend the next nine months being treated like a prisoner, or that I'd always be a weakling in a pack of mighty werewolves, and my job ends at carrying a child for their alpha. I could do more than that.

The pack doctor advised that I exercised regularly, but my mate's idea of exercising involved walking around his rather large penthouse. He offered to set up a gym in the penthouse if it was absolutely necessary, so long as I don't get to leave the house. He was doing too much, and I'm not exactly