Ch. Sorry Hayden, I’m Seven Months Pregnant with Another Man’s Baby 102 Sorry Hayden, I’m Seven Months Pregnant with Another Man’s Baby 102

Chapter 7 

Mason didn’t return until after midnight. 

Knowing my place, I settled onto the small couch in the corner. 

He ignored my presence completely, showered, and went straight to bed. 

Mason wasn’t heartless. I’d read about his condition in those psychology texts. 

Some past trauma had broken something inside him, leaving him with deep-seated trust issues He 

trusted no one, only himself. So he armored himself in this shell of rage, but beneath it, he was 

fragile. 

Last time, trying to survive Caleb, I’d devoured those books, desperate for a way to handle a psychopath. I’d only gotten partway through before Ava killed me. 

Fortunately, the parts I had read focused on conditions like Mason’s. 

I got up and prepared a herbal tonic, then approached him cautiously. “Mason, you’ve had a long day. Drink this. It’ll help restore your energy.” 

In truth, I’d added calming herbs and… something else meant to foster affection. I’d gathered the ingredients myself from Whispering Ridge. My goal was to help him regulate his emotions and, selfishly, to make him care for me. 

In my past life, constantly tending my own wounds, I’d studied medicinal texts. That’s where I’d learned about these plants. 

Mason, however, wasn’t having it. He shifted into his full wolf form, a massive, jet-black beast, and lay on the bed, eyes closed, seemingly meditating. 

Time for a little manipulation. 

“I spent all afternoon simmering this for you,” I said with a sigh. “Didn’t let anyone else touch it. But if you don’t want it, I’ll just… find someone who does.” 

No reaction. 

I pushed further, my voice taking on a wounded tone. “It’s fine, Mason. I don’t mind. So what if the future Alpha’s mate becomes the subject of gossip?” 

I emphasized the words “Alpha’s mate.” 

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Chapter 7 

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That did it. His eyes snapped open. He shifted back to human form, snatched the bowl from my hands, and downed it in one gulp. 

A smile of satisfaction spread across my face. Emboldened, I reached out and stroked his tail. “Mason… could I maybe… hold you when we sleep?” 

“No!” His tail lashed out, pushing me away firmly. 

I didn’t push my luck. I scurried back to my couch. 

The next morning, I had another bowl ready. Perhaps to avoid my nagging, he took it and drank it 

immediately. 

A few days of this medicated tonic, and his irritability should begin to ease. Thinking of his past self, unchecked, unable to manage his turmoil, I actually felt a pang of pity for him. 

Now he had me. I was his wife, and I was determined to help him heal his psychological wounds. 

Of course, it was also for my own sake. I wanted to rely on him to live a safe, secure life. 

But the tonic alone wasn’t enough. I needed to move to phase two of my plan. 

Chapter 7 

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