Wolf Like Me

Leah POV (Age 23)

It wasn’t like Leah never got jealous; she did. The thing was that she had years to master keeping a lid on those feelings, pushing them into the little neat box where they remained. Her mate was beautiful and a female alpha. Such alphas were rare, and so it meant that there were omegas fawning after them.

As her stomach and the bean grew, Leah’s hormones shifted again.

“Good morning, angel,” Fatin said against her neck, placing a kiss there as her hand rested on Leah’s stomach. “Do you want some food and a smoothie?”

“Peanut butter porridge bowl and a banana smoothie?” Leah enquired, pouting at Fatin. She was not above pulling the guilt strings to get her morning food.

“Okay, cutie. Go sit down. You’ll be on your feet a lot today.”

They were heading out to a birthing class that was a nightmare to get to. The parking was about a ten-minute walk away, and then they had stairs. Really, the host could have used their brain and held it elsewhere. Instead, she was putting a hoard of pregnant women through Ninja Warrior training.

Yet Leah was determined to go. They had so much still to learn, and her back pain had gotten to the point of being seriously uncomfortable in the last two months.

...

Leah stared at the stairs and huffed.

“We don’t have to-”

“I can do this. It’s like four flights of stairs. It’s doable.”

Fatin held her arm, helping her up them. “I don’t feel so great about this,” she admitted, wincing when Leah missed a step and tripped.

“Babe, calm down. It’s a few stairs.”

A grumble sounded beside her, but Fatin relented, the pair slowly climbing the stairs one at a time.

“Stop complaining,” Leah chided when Fatin swore at the next step she almost missed. It was particularly hard to see her feet now with how big her stomach was.

“I’ll stop complaining when my wife stops taking on ridiculously dangerous tasks.”

“They’re stairs.”

“They’re pillars of death, Leah.”

“Ohmygodstop. You are so dramatic; with each passing year, you turn more and more into your father.”

“My dad is not dramatic!”

“When Rana got covid, he called an ambulance. She had a minor sore throat.”

Fatin scoffed, helping her up the next set of stairs.

“Sue me if my family are protective of our mates. We care.”

“When I coughed on my cereal yesterday, you spent an hour watching videos on how to aid someone who is choking and then signed yourself up for a first aid course.”

“You can never be too prepared. I think this is the door,” Fatin said, opening it for Leah.

The room was packed with mated pairs and single moms who were unmated or widowed.

As they sat down, the instructor had the partner sit behind the pregnant omega. Fatin’s legs were positioned on either side of her, warm and comforting.

“You want to focus on where the baby puts the most tension on your partner’s lumbar. For most, it’s the lower spine and back. You can feel the spine and then press your thumbs in on either side. Here you can rub small circles and press downward towards where the lower back meets the buttocks.

“Fuck that’s sore,” Leah groaned.

“Probably from what we did last night,” Fatin teased.

“Stop, there are people around.”

“All omegas get horny as shit in one trimester or another.”

“Please don’t say that word so loudly.” Leah flushed.

Fatin’s mouth pressed against her ears. “Why? Does saying it turn you on?”

Her voice was so low that it rose goosebumps on Leah’s arm. Yet before she could reply and whack her, the omega next to them giggled.

The sound went through Leah, who knew what it was with the alluring scent that came with it. It was flirtatious and flaunted right in front of her.

“Happens to the best of us,” the omega said, winking at Fatin.

Oh, Leah could punch her in the tit right now.

“Maybe you should find someone to handle that for you then,” Leah said, earning a shocked look from Fatin.

“I’m more of a free spirit. Can’t be tied down to one alpha, if you get what I mean.”

Fatin shuffled awkwardly behind her, thighs rubbing against Leah’s hips as she moved.

“I prefer being tied down,” Leah retorted. “Fatin is great with cuffs, aren’t you babe?”

“Leah.”

“Maybe I just need to find the right woman to tie me down then,” the omega added, looking right past Leah at Fatin.

“Maybe you do. I’m sure you could find someone somewhere that’s appropriate. You know, anywhere but at a birthing class,” Leah seethed.

“Everywhere in life is an opportunity.”

“An opportunity to move the hell away from my mate.”

“Honey.” Fatin wrapped her arm around her bump, resting her palm on her stomach. “You’re stress is worrying the baby.”

“Yeah, you should relax,” the omega smiled at her, raising a brow in a challenge.

“Maybe we should go?”

Leah shook her head at the suggestion just as the instructor moved on to take them through the next subject.

The jealousy that she had spent over a decade toning down and reserving bubbled up and brimmed over. Clenching her jaw, she breathed shakily through her nose, reaching for Fatin’s hand and moving it to her thigh.

She was not above tactical warfare. It just so happened that Leah had never had to use it.

As Fatin moved to work on her shoulders, Leah turned her head so her mouth was by her ear. “Later, when we get home, I want you to bend me over the sofa and take me.”

“Shit, Leah.”

It was dramatic to want to change her mate’s scent to rub it into the omega’s face, but Leah was feeling exceptionally petty.

“I want you to leave bite marks inside my thigh, claim every part of me as yours.”

“Fuck, Leah don’t-”

She felt Fatin’s fangs drop, brushing against her neck as Fatin concealed them. It was no good. The room smelled like them and them alone now, a heavy mating scent punctuating the air. It wasn’t unusual for it to happen; wolves sometimes felt the need to bite one another when emotions changed.

“I’ll be so good for you. I’ll lay down, and you can ride my mouth-”

Fatin slipped her fangs into Leah’s neck, marking her in front of the class. It was different from the mark given during sex; there was no climax with it. Fatin was marking her protectively, not as deep, only puncturing the surface. Marks, like all touches, varied but even protective marks risked pregnancy in wolves with fangs like Fatin’s.

The woman running the class laughed, drawing attention to them. “Marking your mates frequently is not advised,” she said. “As good as it feels to have that claim, it can run havoc with your hormones.”

“Leah has bond health issues,” Fatin said as she pulled away. “The doctor suggested frequent biting would ease it.”

“In that case, mark away.” She turned her attention to the class. “Now, let’s cover breathing.”

“What was that?” Fatin asked as they got home.

“What was what?”

Fatin pinned her against the door, breath coming heavily. “Did you really have to make me scent in public?”

Okay, so Leah hadn’t considered that. It was the equivalent of having a hard-on and everyone knowing. Then again, most alphas wore their scents proudly. Fatin had never been embarrassed by hers before.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not something I’m used to.”

“You’ve scented in public before.” Plenty of times when they danced at parties, and it was frequent with newly mated couples.

“I have, but not because you’ve done that.”

Leah worked her jaw, eyes watery. “I didn’t like that omega.”

“I could tell,” Fatin said, holding Leah’s hips. “I would never-”

“I know.” She did.

“Then why?”

“I was a little jealous, okay?”

Fatin frowned at that. “You never get jealous.”

“I do, but pregnancy makes it a lot harder to deal with. I mean, come on, she was practically bending over for you to offer herself up.”

“You’re jealous,” Fatin repeated, a grin spreading across her face. “That’s kind of hot, babe.”

“Don’t mock me right now. I hate feeling like this.”

“I’m not mocking you,” Fatin said. She pulled Leah closer. “Do you want a massage?”

“A massage?”

“You said this morning you were in pain again. Let me get the oil, and I can spend the afternoon at home with you.”

“You have coffee with Dot.”

“I’m sure she will more than understand the fact that my wife needs to know she’s my priority.”

“I know that.”

“You do,” Fatin agreed. “But a reminder of the fact that you’re the only person I love in life could never hurt. Also, your scent is yet to calm, and I don’t think I could leave with my scent smelling like a damn metaphorical hard-on.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising. You have nothing to apologise for. If you feel this way, it’s valid. Hormone-caused or not, all I want is to ease your worry.”

“Will you use the mango oils?”

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“I love you, Leah Rilke.”