His Luna’s Rejection, Her Alpha’s Mistake

Chapter Seven

Della woke up early the following day, the sun streaming through the windows of her cosy flat. She made herself a cup of coffee and sat on the small balcony, taking in the peaceful view of the bustling street below. It was a new day, full of possibilities, and she felt a sense of optimism washing over her.

As she sipped her coffee, Della heard a faint rustling from the alley behind the café. Curious, she set down her mug and peered over the railing. Surprisingly, she saw a tiny kitten darting between the trash cans, its fur matted and dirty.

Without hesitation, Della sprang into action. She hurried downstairs, grabbed a bowl of milk from the kitchen, and went to the alley. The kitten hesitated initially, but the hunger in its eyes won out, and it cautiously approached Della.

Gently, Della set the bowl of milk down on the ground and took a step back, giving the kitten space to drink. It lapped the milk greedily, its small tail flicking back and forth in contentment.

As Della watched the kitten, a plan began to form in her mind. She couldn't leave this poor creature to fend for itself in the alley. Without a second thought, she scooped up the kitten and returned it to the café.

Mrs Thompson and Michael were already preparing for the day, but they looked up in surprise as Della entered with the kitten cradled in her arms.

"What do we have here?" Mrs Thompson asked with a smile, coming over to inspect the tiny feline.

Della explained how she had found the kitten in the alley and expressed her desire to take care of it. Michael's eyes lit up with excitement, and he immediately offered to help set up a small bed and food dish for their newest cafe resident.

She felt glad for finding the helpless kitten, and Mrs Thompson seemed to have taken to the little one.

It wasn't busy in the cafe, and Della washed her hands and

She decided to help Michael set up a cosy corner for the kitten. Mrs. Thompson suggested placing the bed near the warm kitchen area, where they could closely monitor the little one throughout the day.

With careful hands, Della and Michael arranged a soft blanket inside an unused crate, propping it up with cushions to make it as comfortable as possible. They also placed a small water dish and the food dish beside it. The kitten, having finished its milk, watched them with curious eyes, its head tilting from side to side.

"Looks like we're going to be a full house now," Michael chuckled as he placed the kitten gently into its new bed. The tiny creature sniffed around momentarily before curling up, seemingly content with its new surroundings.

Della smiled, watching the kitten settle down. "It feels good, you know? Saving a little life. It makes you forget your troubles for a while."

Michael glanced at Della, a soft expression in his eyes. "You have a big heart, Della. It's one of the things I—" He stopped himself, perhaps realising he was about to reveal too much, and shifted the topic. "Mrs Thompson will officially name you the cafe's kitten rescuer."

Laughing, Della played along. "I'll gladly accept the title. Every cafe needs a rescue kitten to complete the picture."

The rest of the morning passed in a warm atmosphere, the kitten's presence somehow bringing an additional layer of homeliness to the cafe. Customers cooed over the new addition, and Mrs. Thompson regaled them with the story of Della's rescue. Della couldn't remember the last time she felt this included, this needed.

As the lunch crowd began to wane, Della took a moment to step back out onto the balcony, sipping on a tea this time, reflecting on the turns her life had taken. Not long ago, the idea of finding sanctuary in a city cafe, far from her past life, seemed unimaginable. Yet, here she was, feeling more at home than ever before.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Michael joining her, two cups of tea in hand. "Tea break?" he offered, handing her one of the cups.

"Thanks," Della accepted, smiling. They stood silently for a moment, watching the world go by below.

Michael took a deep breath as though gearing up to say something significant. "Della, about what I started saying earlier..."

Della turned to him, heart racing at the severe tone of his voice. The air between them felt charged, full of unsaid words and emotions bubbling under the surface.

"Yes?" she prompted, meeting his gaze.

He hesitated, then looked directly into her eyes. "I care about you, Della. More than as a friend or a coworker. I know you have a lot going on, and I don't want to burden you with my feelings, but I also can't keep pretending they don't exist."

Della's breath caught in her throat. The confession sparked a flurry of emotions within her – surprise, fear, and a daring sliver of hope. She had grown close to Michael and valued his friendship and the safety he represented. And yet, she realised, part of her had started to hope for something more, too.

"Michael, I—" She started her feelings a tangled mess. The weight of her past, her responsibilities, and the uncertainty of her future loomed large. But looking into Michael's earnest eyes, she felt a pull towards honesty. "I care about you, too. But I'm scared. I'm not sure if I'm ready to—"

Michael reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. "It's okay, Della. We don't have to figure it all out right now. I'm here for you, whatever you need, however you need me. I just wanted you to know how I feel."

Tears pricked at Della's eyes, moved by Michael's kindness and patience. Here was a man willing to stand by her despite the chaos of her life. Maybe, just maybe, they could navigate the uncertain waters of the future together.

"Thank you, Michael," she whispered, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. But thoughts of Xavier made her look away. “Umm, I better get back to work now,” she mumbled and excused herself.

A few moments later, Della was back in the cafe, where she busied herself and pushed aside the negative feelings swimming within her. But she suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over her as she tried to steady herself behind the counter of the café. Her vision blurred for a moment, and she felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. She knew something was wrong, but she tried to push through it, not wanting to worry anyone.

Michael, who had been in the kitchen preparing pastries, sensed that something was off and quickly stepped out to check on Della. His eyes widened in concern as he saw her pale complexion and trembling hands. "Della, are you okay? You don't look well at all."

Della tried to force a smile, but the room spun around her, and she stumbled, nearly falling to the floor. Michael caught her just in time, his arms wrapping around her to steady her. "We need to get you to the hospital now," he said firmly, his worry evident.

Mrs. Thompson, who had come out of the back room at the commotion, gasped in concern. "What happened, Della? Are you feeling unwell?"

Della could barely find her voice as she whispered, "I-I think something's wrong. I feel so dizzy and lightheaded."

Without wasting a moment, Michael scooped Della up and carried her out of the café, Mrs Thompson following closely behind. They rushed to the nearby hospital, where Della was immediately taken to the emergency room for examination.

As the doctors ran tests and checked her vitals, Della felt fear and uncertainty wash over her. What could be causing her sudden illness?

Finally, the doctor came back with an excited expression. "Della, I have some surprising news for you. You're pregnant," she said.

“Wow.” Micheal let out a low whistle as disbelief poured from him.

Della's mind reeled as she tried to process the doctor's words. Pregnant? The shock of the revelation left her momentarily speechless, emotions welling within her like a tumultuous sea. Her thoughts immediately flickered to Xavier, memories of their time together flooding back, bittersweet and poignant. How they had longed for a child together, the disappointment she had felt every time she failed to fall pregnant—the pain of his betrayal with Anna and the news of her pregnancy behind Della’s back. But as quickly as they came, she pushed them away. No, this was her life now, in the city, away from the pack and Xavier's betrayals. Even her own Wolf had retreated since Xavier’s betrayal.

Michael's voice snapped her back to the present, his face a study of worry and care. "Della, are you okay? Do you need anything?"

Staring into his understanding eyes, she blinked a few times. Here was a person who had shown her nothing but kindness, who had helped her when she had been at her lowest. Yet, how could she burden him with this? Even though they had grown close in the short time since meeting, her situation was complicated, entwined with secrets and a past that seemed determined to follow her no matter how far she ran.

"I'm... I'm fine, Michael," she managed, offering him a weak smile. "Just a bit overwhelmed."

Della felt the weight of her new reality settling on her shoulders. She carefully considered her options, considering the logistics and implications of raising a child on her own, in a new city, with a job in a café, far removed from her past as a Luna. The idea was daunting, but a relentless determination flickered her spirit.

Michael, ever observant, watched Della closely, sensing the turmoil churning within her. He wanted to offer support, to ensure she knew she wasn't alone, but he also respected her need for space to process the sudden news. As they reached the café, he hesitated before speaking.

"Della, whatever you need, know my grandmother and I are here for you. You're not alone."

Her eyes met his, and in them, Della saw a sincerity that touched her deeply.

"Thank you, Michael," she said, her voice laden with appreciation. "That means more to me than you know."