Chapter 24

Sebastian's POV

I catch myself on the ground and look to my right side. Miranda sits beside me, grasping her non-tethered ankle in pain. I kneel and undo the velcro attaching our ankles.

“Are you okay?” I ask, trying my best to conceal the worry in my tone. She looks up at me, her green eyes big and slightly watery.

“Yes…it’s just my ankle. I think I rolled it,” she breathes out with a pained chuckle.

Without thinking, I slide my arms underneath Miranda and pick her up with ease. She gasps and I smirk, moving through the teams of linked parents with ease. Miranda hesitantly wraps her arms around my neck to stay stable.

“Where is the medical tent?” I ask a nearby teacher. Their eyes are shocked to life and they stammer for a couple of seconds before pointing to a nearby white tent that has a red cross on it. I nod as a thank you and head in the tent’s direction.

“What are you doing?” Miranda asks. I shrug and keep my eyes forward.

“You’re hurt,” I cooly reply, “you need medical attention.”

I look around to make sure that I don’t walk us into someone or something. If people were pretending to watch us before, they are openly doing it now. I pay no attention to them, though, since I am very used to people having their eyes on me.

The titular role of Alpha King has been attached to me since birth. The role comes with a lot of baggage, such as constantly being in the public eye and not having a moment of privacy, even at my son’s school event.

“It’s just a sprained ankle.” Miranda rolls her eyes and looks away. Her head stays still but her body fidgets in my arms. She must feel uncomfortable with everyone watching. My pace quickens and I glare at the people who stare and take pictures of the two of us.

I slide through the flimsy doors of the tent. A doctor and nurse look in our direction. It’s practically empty inside besides a few young kids and their mothers.

The doctor gestures to an empty cot. It has pristine white sheets and a small pillow towards the back of the cot. I set Miranda down thinking that she’d lay down, but instead, she sits right up and swings her legs over the edge of the cot.

I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. She mimics my movements and tilts her body away from me.

“I appreciate you carrying me here, Sebastian, but I am perfectly capable of handling this on my own,” her words are as fiery as she is. It amuses me.

“Just accept the help, Miranda, it is not the end of the world if you do,” I muse. Her head snaps in my direction and I can see the fire behind her eyes.

“I guess you can say that she fell harder for you,” a voice breaks the tension between Miranda and I. We both turn to see a doctor standing behind us. He has a cheery smile on his face, a smile that is a little too cheery, and we look back at each other with raised eyebrows. “Are you two not married?”

“No!” Miranda and I say in sync. She gives me a side eye and I scoff, looking away.

“Oh! My…my apologies then!” The doctor awkwardly chuckles. He clears his throat and looks at Miranda’s ankle. “Did you sprain it?”

“I think so, yeah,” Miranda shoots me a glare. I shake my head no and smile a condescending smile. She crosses her arms over her chest. The doctor’s eyes flicker between us as if he’s watching a tennis match.

“Well, I can go get some wrap and an ice pack for your ankle…and I’ll see if we have some crutches for you to use.” The doctor says.

I nod to him and step in front of Miranda, closing off his view of her. I narrow my eyes at him. He gulps and clutches his stethoscope.

The doctor turns on his heel and leaves. He waves his hands to a nurse who approaches with a tray of items. The nurses quickly slide cloth barriers to separate us from the rest of the people inside the medical tent.

“Who’s Ella’s father?” I ask with my back facing Miranda. My arms are crossed over my chest. I tap my foot against the dry ground below us.

“Excuse me?” Miranda scoffs.

“You heard me.” I turn and face her. I inch closer to her. Her knee bumps into mine and I look down at her. She glares at me and yet I can tell that she’s putting her walls back up. “Who is Ella’s father?”

Moments pass and I watch the wheels in Miranda’s brain spin. She purses her lips and narrows her bright green eyes at me, never looking away. She takes her time to respond and it is driving me crazy.

“Why do you want to know? It has nothing to do with you,” she slowly says the words. They’re calculated and thought out.

“Just tell me, Miranda,” I begin. My voice shifts to its Alpha demeanor, “As your Alpha King, I demand you to tell me.”

“Remember what I said to you before, Sebastian?” Miranda shoots up from the cot. She stands in the slim space between me and the cot. I cement my feet in the ground.

“Yeah? What is that?” I immediately counter.

Miranda’s nostrils flare. She steps around me and creates space between us. I grab her arm and pull her back to me.

“I said I would never bow to you.” Miranda spits the words out. I inwardly flinch. She tears her arm from my grasp. Miranda winces when she sets her foot on the ground but pushes through the pain. She purposefully bumps into my shoulder and walks away

“All of the things Lily said about you were right,” I say in an attempt to get her to stop. It works. She freezes and keeps her back to me. “You don’t even know who the father is, do you?”

Seconds pass and neither of us says a thing. The tension builds between us. All I can do is stare at her back and the slight curls in her hair.

“You sleep around with no regard for anything,” my voice slices through the silence. Her shoulders flinch. “You hold no regard for yourself, your future fated mate, nor do you care about how this will impact your daughter.”

“Don’t you dare talk my child,” Miranda immediately snaps. She storms up to me and points a finger in my face. Her eyes are just as wild as her expression is. “Don’t you ever say a word about my daughter ever again. Do you understand me? I will not let someone like you disrespect her.”

“I think you’re the one who has done the disrespecting, Miranda. Not me.” My words are like venom. I hope they hurt. My wolf lowly growls inside me, not appreciating the tone I’m using with Miranda. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, quickly pushing him away, not needing any input from that animal right now.

When I open my eyes, Miranda is gone. Her absence leaves a void in my chest, a void that is filled with pent-up anger and frustration.