After One Night with the Alpha (Brad and Elle) novel Chapter 5

**TITLE: The Billionaire Who Claimed My Heart and Who Broke Fate for Me 5**

**Chapter 5**

**Elle’s POV**

A month had slipped by since that fateful night with Brad Rayne, a night that had altered the very fabric of my existence. In an effort to escape the whirlpool of thoughts swirling in my mind, I had thrown myself headlong into my work. I took on extra tasks, stayed late at the office, and buried myself in endless reports and meetings—anything to keep my mind occupied and distracted from the gnawing uncertainty that had settled in my chest.

Yet, despite my best efforts, my body felt distinctly different these days. A constant fatigue clung to me, and the mornings were particularly brutal, often accompanied by waves of nausea that rolled through me like an unwelcome tide.

Today was worse than usual. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed mercilessly, their brightness piercing through my skull like a thousand tiny needles. Even the usual comfort of my morning coffee had turned against me, its once-familiar aroma now making my stomach churn violently.

“West! The report needs to be completed by noon,” Mrs. Jenkins barked as she dropped yet another folder onto the precarious mountain of paperwork on my desk. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she scrutinized my face. “You don’t look well. Are you feeling alright?”

I nodded mechanically, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Yes, Mrs. Jenkins. Just tired.”

As she walked away, I felt a prickle of unease. My gaze drifted across the room, landing on two werewolf executives who had come down to HR for some paperwork. They were staring at me, nostrils flaring slightly as they exchanged hushed words. One of them took a tentative step towards me, but his colleague grabbed his arm, whispering something urgently in his ear.

A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I gripped the edge of my desk, my knuckles turning white as I fought to steady myself. My vision blurred, and an unfamiliar warmth began to radiate from my eyes, an electric sensation that coursed through my body in a way I had never experienced before.

“Elle?” Sarah, a coworker from the desk next to mine, called out, her voice sounding distant and muffled. “Are you okay? Your eyes…”

My heart raced in my chest, each beat echoing a sense of impending doom. Something was terribly wrong, and I could feel it deep within my bones—a shift, a change that I couldn’t quite comprehend. Panic clawed at my throat as I tried to stand, to reassure everyone that I was fine, but my legs betrayed me, refusing to support my weight.

“Help her!” I heard someone shout, the urgency in their voice barely registering as darkness began to close in around me.

The last image etched in my mind before I succumbed to the void was the shocked faces of my colleagues, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.

When I finally regained consciousness, I was met with the steady beep of a heart monitor. The stark white ceiling loomed above me, and the sharp, antiseptic smell confirmed my suspicions—I was in a hospital. But this was no cramped human clinic; this room was spacious and filled with advanced medical equipment that I had only ever seen in glossy magazines.

At the foot of my bed stood a doctor, his attention fixed on a tablet as he furrowed his brows in concentration. He was undeniably a werewolf—tall and imposing, with that innate grace that seemed to flow effortlessly from him.

“Ms. West,” he said, glancing up as he noticed I was awake. “How are you feeling?”

“Confused,” I admitted, my voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. “What happened?”

“You fainted at work. Your colleagues called for emergency services,” he explained as he approached me slowly, his intense gaze locked onto mine in a way that made me feel both vulnerable and exposed. “I’m Dr. Reeves. May I check your eyes?”

Before I could respond, he shone a penlight directly into my right eye, then my left. I felt my stomach drop as he inhaled sharply, a sound that sent a wave of dread coursing through me.

“What’s wrong with me?” I asked, panic bubbling up within me.

“Your heterochromia… it’s exhibiting unusual properties,” he said, carefully choosing his words. Yet, I could see the barely contained excitement flickering in his eyes. “The different colored eyes you were born with aren’t just a cosmetic difference. They’re… reacting.”

“Reacting to what?” My voice trembled, laced with fear.

“That’s what we’re trying to determine.” He set down the penlight and picked up my chart, his expression growing serious. “Ms. West, I’m going to tell you something unexpected. According to your blood work, you’re approximately six weeks pregnant.”

What the hell did he just say?

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