Covet

| Hallmarks of a Lie

There was a commotion outside the bedroom. The cardboard box—its purpose fulfilled—and the empty foil packet joined the test in the small trash.

The boom of Carlyle's voice was nothing in comparison to the authoritative tone of an Alpha. Luke wanted in and I knew it wasn't fair on Carlyle to hold the fort on his own. I stood, proceeding to the doorway, taking a deep breath before I opened it.

The noise outside ceased abruptly, and both stopped mid-sentence.

"It's okay." I smiled, although faint, and nodded. "Carlyle, he needs to know," I whispered, a silent apology to the man who had been more than just a friend today.

Carlyle's concerned eyes met mine, an unspoken question there. He knew the gravity of what my test results were because it was impossible to hide them from him. His eyes held mine for a moment longer, conveying a silent promise; no matter what, he would stand by me, as he had Lucille.

Luke stepped around him and into the room. Carlyle's posture, rigid and defensive only moments before, softened at the sight of me stepping forward.

"Is it fucking true? Is it, Dana? How could you both have been so reckless?" Luke demanded.

His words stung, igniting a new fire behind my eyes. My hands clenched into fists at my sides; a primal urge surged through me, compelling me to shift and unleash the full brunt of my frustration on him at his careless words; the truth heavy on my own tongue yet locked behind my lips. "How is a baby reckless? You of all people should be happy for us. I'm not stupid enough not to know this makes things twice as complicated, and.."

Luke stood motionless, his expression unreadable. "Stop for a second, Dana..." Luke's arms lost all strength as they fell against his sides.

Ignoring him, I continued. "And I haven't even begun how to navigate what this means or what comes next, but..." The words hung suspended and I couldn't finish them because I didn't have the next answers myself.

"I was talking about Antoine..."

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Luke sank onto the bed. "Does Paul know?"

I shook my head. "Not yet. I only just..."

The floorboards outside the bedroom protested under the weight of heavy, purposeful strides. Paul's boots—always more like thunder than footsteps—signaled his approach before he even appeared in the doorway.

"Does Paul not know what?" His voice boomed through the suddenly too-small room, each syllable laced with a sharp undertone of accusation.

Our heads whipped around in unison. I moved fast toward him and Paul went from wild looking to dejected instantly. "Paul, before you say anything, I need you to listen."

"Did you finally do the deed, Luke, as soon as my back was turned?" His gaze sliced to Luke's over my shoulder.

There was only one way to tell him without blurting everything else I needed to keep confident. "You have my permission."

A glimmer of shock flashed across Paul's face, his features betraying the implication of my full consent. He inched forward, the hardwood floor creaking beneath his weight. His breath hitched, the corners of his eyes tightening as he readied himself to delve into my memory, to witness the truth bare and unvarnished for himself.

Ready to relieve the day in as vivid detail as possible, I prepared to show him every moment. There was a storm in his eyes, and I waited patiently for it to rescind.

I let my mind unravel, from the time he left this morning, to my time with Carlyle in the woods, to Mr. Thompson, Antoine, and then finally the bathroom and those vibrant twin-pink lines.