Mated To My Obsessive Stepbrother

Chapter 301

Chapter 301

KESTER.

1 pulled into the driveway like I had a fucking purpose.

Because I did.

My guards straightened the second my car rolled to a stop. I didn't wait for them to salute or do the whole formal protocol bullshit -I rolled down the window halfway and barked, "Empty the trunk. Everything. Take it inside, now."

They moved fast, reaching for the trunk, but even they had to pause for a second when they opened it.

Yeah.

That shit was full.

I'd gone overboard, and I didn't give a single fuck. If anything, I was pissed I hadn't gotten more.

I had an idea what pregnancy does to women, messing with their appetite and all that. So, I was prepared.

There were grocery bags packed with everything she'd ever so much as glanced at. Her favorite chocolate chip cookies-the specific ones with sea salt flakes on top that only one damn bakery in town got right. I bought the whole shelf.

Snack packs of dried mangoes, that exact brand of spicy trail mix she claimed made her lips "tingle just right."

A box of imported instant noodles from Korea she once mentioned in passing while scrolling on her phone.

Even the stupid purple yogurt she liked that I used to make fun of her for? Bought a dozen.

"Be gentle with that top bag," I warned one of them, "Her strawberry licorice is in there. If it's crushed, you'll be mopping floors for

a month."

this... garlic butter noodles?

liked better, so I stopped at both. There's also that garlic bread from the place that gives you two dips. She liked the spicy one

spoken more than three or four words at most

turning me into

a fuck. She could turn me into anything she deemed fit, and

from the place downtown that had the lavender frosting she liked to lick off with her finger before eating the rest. I hated how that image stuck

her to

a tablet-something light and easy to use if she wanted to scroll or read or whatever while curled up on the couch. A laptop, too. Something solid,

for quite a while,

1/3

Chapter 301.

the car, rolling my shoulders, the cool night air hiting

said to one of the guards, pointing at

from Velour, that stupidly expensive brand

asked me for it. But I'd seen the way her eyes sparkle rings, the little moonstone anklet I knew would look obscene on

reels. The delicate chains, the minimalist bought the

one of them

eyes scanned the place. She must be in

everything on the dining table. Food, too. Don't mix

"Yes, Alpha.

20

ist right. A box of strawberries. A bag of powdered sugar donuts. Even the weird pickle-flavored chips I hated smelling. The guards were finishing up, dropping the last of the food on the dining table, when I noticed the faintest trace of her scent drifting into the living room from upstairs. My gaze snapped up

her eyes already scanning and processing what she was looking

did she look even more beautiful

in all the right ways. More curves, more glow, more beauty. It didn't make her less of

of the stairs, her brow furrowing slightly as she took in the scene. The entire fucking living room was overflowing with bags, boxes, takeout containers, and God

she asked slowly like she

it.