Pregnant With Four Alphas' Babies: A Reverse Harem Romance Chapter 90: The Fate of the Next Luna

*Emily*

I am so gorgeous… none of those stupid fucking Alphas even deserve me. Yet, they think they want that stupid Breeder bitch instead. They must have been brainwashed from that bitch herself.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, brushing out my long, dark hair, waiting to hear from the pack healer, Dr. Penderghastly, that the Breeder and her babies are all dead. Surely, she will make some sort of an announcement soon.

I wonder if cousin Gene has an intercom here. If he does, he’s never used it, but I can imagine the doctor coming over the PA system and saying, “Excuse me, everyone, may I have your attention please? I’m here to tell you that the big nosed Breeder with the giant stomach is dead. Since no one likes her anyway, we will just dump her body in the lagoon out behind the castle where all of the wastewater goes. She will be floating with shit. Now, go on about your business.”

I laugh to myself, and when my new maid, I-Don’t-Fucking-Give-A-Shit-What-Her-Name-Is, or Idfgaswhni for short, gives me a strange look. I glare at her. She cowers immediately, ducking her head.

A hard knock on my door has me startled at first, but then delighted, as I imagine that I’m finally going to be getting the news that Alpha Morris’s murderous task from yesterday was carried out successfully, and sadly–although surely nobody will be shedding tears–the bitch is dead.

“Well, don’t just stand there, Ida,” I demand to the maid, because that’s easier than Idfgaswhni, “get the Goddessdamn door!”

She hops over to open it, and I see that worthless Beta, Adam, standing there. I roll my eyes. I doubt they’d send him to tell me that, after lingering all night in the infirmary, the bitch Breeder has died due to her stab wounds. “Yeah?” I say, not even looking at him.

“Your cousin would like to speak to you in his office. Now,” he says, glaring at me, like he thinks I’ve done something wrong.

As he starts to walk away, I ask, “About what? Emily doesn’t just hop up and run because someone tells her to.”

“Even if it’s the king?” he asks with much irritation in his voice. I shrug my shoulders and continue to run my brush through my hair. “Well, Emily needs to get her ass into the king’s office before Adam puts his boot through it.”

I stand, turning to face him. “How dare you speak to Emily that way! Don’t you know who I am?”

“How dare you speak to Adam that way! Don’t you know who I am?” he asks, his shoulders back and his chest pushed forward like a fucking peacock.

I roll my eyes again. “You’re no one!”

“I am the Beta of this kingdom,” he announces, looking into my eyes. “I am number two to the king!”

“So you’re the king’s shit?” I ask him, and I can’t help but laugh. He narrows his gaze. “I’m going, asshole, but not because you told me to. Emily doesn’t do what anyone tells her to do.”

“Emily needs to grow up and stop referring to herself in the third person like a moron,” Adam says as he follows me down the hallway to King Gene’s office. I want to turn around and slap his face, but I just keep walking.

“Oh, there you are,” King Gene greets me rudely from behind his desk. I swear that piece of furniture gets bigger every time I’m here. “What took you so damn long?”

“Your stupid Beta wanted to give me his life story on the way,” I tell him as the Beta in question slams the door behind me. I sink down into a chair. “What is this about? Is it the Breeder? Is she dead?”

His face doesn’t change as he looks at me for a long moment. “No,” he finally replies. “You have to stop trying to kill people, Emily.”

I moan. “I didn’t do it,” I assure him. “Besides… sometimes people need to be killed.”

“Not her!” he yells with an emphatic tone. “Not yet! Now listen, your mischievous behavior has put me in a bad position with these four powerful Alphas. They’ve made threats against me, and now, well, I only have one thing left to do to appease them, and while I’m sure you aren’t going to like it, I’ve already agreed to it.”

My stomach sinks down all the way into my designer shoes. “What the fuck did you do?” I demand.

His eyes widen. “Don’t you take that tone with me, you little bitch! I’m the king!”

I say nothing, but I feel tears stinging my eyes. Emily is losing, and Emily doesn’t like that.

“You are going to marry Alpha Stephen. He’s here to collect you.”

King Gene’s words seem definitive, like there’s nothing I can say to change his mind, and that makes me want to hurl the stapler off of his desk at his head. “What?” I ask, still in shock.

“That’s right. It’s the only way I can keep the Alphas from rising up against me.” He folds his arms across his measly little chest.

I shake my head. “No. I won’t do it. Alpha Stephen is older than my grandfather, our grandfather, and his dick is as limp as a biscuit just put into the rising drawer. No. You can’t make me.”

“I can make you,” he threatens, leaning forward and glaring at me. “And I will make you. And I don’t want to hear another word about your sexual misconduct, Emily! I thought you were a pure, virginal woman who would make an excellent Luna, and it turns out you have more stickers on your ass than Phileas Fogg’s suitcase!”

“Who the fuck is Phileas Fogg?” I ask, but he just shakes his head.

I figure he’s probably some friend of the king’s I haven’t met yet. Another short, incompetent old man. Just like my soon-to-be husband.

“But Gene!” I exclaim.

“That’s King Gene to you, young lady,” he corrects. “There’s nothing you can do about this, Emily! It’s done. Now, if it makes you feel any better, the Beta of Alpha Stephen’s pack is a nice, strapping young gentleman. Perhaps you can find some solace in his embrace?”

I stare at him for a moment, one eyebrow raised. “Do you have a photograph?”

He grumbles under his breath and reaches into a bottom drawer of his desk. A moment later, he pulls out a spiral-bound book that looks like something a kindergarten teacher would put together for a class project. On the cover, it reads, “Who’s Who in the Kingdom: A King’s Guide to Remembering People’s Names.” It’s laminated….

He opens it up, flips through a few pages, and slides it across the desk to me.

Instantly, my eyes bulge. “Wow! He looks exactly like Alpha Reece!” My eyes drop down the page a bit, and I realize that’s because the picture is of Alpha Reece. Under the photo, it says, “Alpha Reece” and has his pack name.

“Son of a bitch,” King Gene mutters and flips the page again. “Here.”

This time, I am faced with a man who is nearly as good-looking as Alpha Reece. It says, “Beta Barnabas,” under his picture.

“Barnabas?” I repeat.

King Gene shrugs. “So what? He goes by Barney.”

I almost laugh. What a ridiculous name. “Is he a big purple dinosaur? Is he a bumbling deputy in a small town?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” King Gene asks me, and I feel better about his Phony Flogg comment earlier, or whatever the hell he said.

“Fine,” I huff with a sigh, knowing there’s nothing else I can do to persuade him. I assume something has happened to Alpha Morris since he didn’t kill the Breeder. He must’ve gotten caught. I don’t want to take the fall for that.

“Great,” King Gene says, sliding his book into the bottom drawer of his desk. He stands and walks me to the door, and when it opens, I expect to see Beta Adam there, but instead, it’s Alpha Stephen.

“Already?” I ask.

“Well, you should go pack your bags,” King Gene declares.

I groan under my breath. “That’ll take ages.”

“You have maids for that, I believe,” he says. “Ones you haven’t made murder anyone yet….”

I don’t acknowledge anything. I just head back to my room, Alpha Stephen behind me.

Once there, I command the maids to start packing my bags, and I stand back, thinking about what this means.

Will I never be queen now?

“Say,” Alpha Stephen begins, placing a hand on my back. “I thought… on the way home… we could….” He winks at me and makes a snapping sound between his cheek and teeth.

My stomach rolls over. “I don’t think so,” I tell him.

“Come on! I already took my medicine.” He laughs and pulls me close enough to him that I can smell his sour mayonnaise breath.

This is going to be a long ride home….

“Take your time, Ida,” I instruct. “Don’t wrinkle my gowns.”

She looks over at me and smiles before she shoves one of my expensive dresses into a suitcase, ignoring every word I say.