Pregnant Runaway Mate of the Alpha Prince, page 1
part #37 of Forbidden Alpha Kings Series
Pregnant Runaway Mate of the Alpha Prince
A Fated Mates Secret Baby Shifter Romance
Lira Flux & Elara Haze
Copyright © 2025 by Lira Flux & Elara Haze
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
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Contents
Pregnant Runaway Mate of the Alpha Prince
Content Warning
1. Ella
2. Harris
3. Ella
4. Harris
5. Ella
6. Harris
7. Ella
8. Harris
9. Ella
10. Harris
11. Ella
12. Harris
13. Ella
14. Harris
15. Ella
16. Ella
17. Harris
18. Ella
19. Harris
20. Ella
21. Harris
22. Ella
23. Harris
24. Ella
25. Ella
26. Harris
27. Ella
28. Harris
29. Ella
30. Harris
31. Ella
32. Harris
33. Ella
34. Harris
35. Ella
36. Harris
37. Ella
38. Harris
39. Ella
40. Harris
41. Ella
42. Harris
43. Ella
44. Harris
45. Ella
46. Harris
Epilogue
Pregnant Runaway Mate of the Alpha Prince
My fated mate is the heir to the throne.
I’m pregnant with his baby…
But he’s engaged to someone else.
I work in my family’s café,
but I’m beaten more often than I’m paid.
As an omega who can’t even shift,
I can’t defend myself.
But for one night, my fairy godmother intervenes,
and I go to a masquerade ball at the royal palace.
That’s when I see him—Harris, the alpha prince and heir to the throne.
His burning green eyes draw me in immediately.
We can’t resist the unprecedented connection between us…
And as we sneak off to spend some time alone,
the mating bond clicks into place.
But the clock strikes midnight, and I have to leave.
The prince won’t let me go.
He hunts me down and brings me back to his castle.
He becomes viciously possessive when he sees the scars my stepmother gave me.
“Who did this to you?”
And then I find out I’m pregnant…
but Harris is engaged to another woman.
I run, but he chases after me again.
It will take a lot of groveling to make this right.
And Harris’s enemies are after me,
and they’ll do anything to hurt him…and me.
But even if Harris can protect me…
Will he accept me once I tell him how weak I am?
Or will he reject me…and our baby?
Content Warning
This story is intended for mature 18+ readers and contains themes that may be sensitive to some. It contains explicit language and sex scenes.
1
Ella
I had to fight for my tiny victories.
Today, that meant stealing a lunch break away from the bakery.
“This cafe is really cute. When I saw the sweets I knew I had to take you,” Beth grinned.
“I can’t stay out for long.”
“You can get lunch,” she teased. “It’s my treat anyway.”
This was what I signed up for when she texted me that morning. If I really wanted to stay out of trouble I would have spent my break at home.
Turning a corner, I was shocked at a massive group of people. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, but it looks interesting.”
The cobbled road clicked beneath Beth’s heels as she pulled me toward the crowd against my desire to go to lunch instead. A surprising number of people were gathered around talking, which could only mean gossip was in the air. I spotted more than one person with a newspaper gripped in their hands, confirming it.
“What do you think they printed today?” she laughed.
I shrugged, looking for any sign of a familiar face that might land me in trouble.
I had to return to the bakery in a timely manner or my stepmother was going to make life more difficult than she already had. If my stepsisters saw me out here they’d rat me out in a heartbeat.
Regardless of how much I needed an escape, I didn’t need to risk getting hurt extra when I had a long week of shifts ahead of me. My bruises were still tender from the day before. If I let myself get caught out here, I risked my stepmother leaving permanent damage.
I was Vivian’s only employee.
Truthfully, I’m not sure I could be called an employee when I was beaten more often than I was paid. This let my family business stay alive, though. It was worth it.
“Is the cafe near here? Maybe we should just go eat.” I wanted to pull her attention from the paper before I got punished for her being distracted.
“Ella we’re not going to miss out on gossip just because of Vivian’s bad mood,” she laughed. “I’ll defend you if you’re late.”
I rarely read the local paper, it was mostly just opinion pieces since there wasn’t much actual news to print. Beth, on the other hand, was hooked on it. If she had to pick between buying breakfast and buying a newspaper, she’d pick the paper every time.
Countless newspapers were being passed around, and I couldn’t make out the main headlines. Beth pulled me in further, and I watched as she instantly snapped a paper from someone else’s hands.
“Wait, that’s mine—”
The paper’s rightful owner tried to stop us, but Beth pulled me by my sore arm. I kept my head down and tried to match her pace quickly.
“One sec,” Beth laughed.
I rolled my eyes at her while letting a smile slip. She’d been like this since we were kids. There was no way I was going to change that now.
We rounded a corner into an alley, and she pulled out the paper for us to see.
“Do you think they’ll follow us?” I tried to catch my breath. She ignored me, but I couldn’t stop looking toward the alley entrance to ensure nobody tailed us.
“Ella, look at this,” she nudged me.
The entire front of the newspaper was one large headline.
“Castle Opens For One Night: King Henri Seeking Bride For Prince!”
“Wait, have they done this before?”
Beth shook her head. “I’ve never seen them open the castle like this. Isn’t it dangerous for the clan to have this much access?”
“It doesn’t seem smart.”
“They’re saying anyone can come,” she turned the page and read it further. “They’re going to let in the first two hundred eligible women into the gate.”
“What makes someone eligible?”
I wouldn’t let myself fantasize about getting into the castle, but I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like. Someone could change their life just by going to this event, much less if they danced with royalty.
Maybe Vivian would treat me differently if I made it in. If I proved I had value outside of baking.
The thought almost made me laugh when I let it sink in a little. There was no way in hell she’d ever see me as anything besides annoying and cheap labor.
I could dream, though.
“They’re probably only going to let in women with big wallets and a tiny waist,” Beth teased.
“Well, we’re definitely out.”
“Don’t speak for me! I don’t know about you, but I’m getting into that party.” She turned the paper over, looking for secret information she might have missed.
“Why?”
Although I’d always dreamed of an escape, Beth wasn’t exactly the marrying type.
“Imagine the customers I could get? Do you know how many new dresses I could sell if I showed up in a new one I created for the ball?”
“Who’s calling it a ball?” I laughed. The term seemed antique, unlike something she’d actually want to attend.
Beth lifted the paper and motioned to a paragraph. “It says here that people are expected to wear masks and disguise themselves as part of the ball. That it’s a high-end social event.”
“I could see you getting in, then,” I agreed.
“The prince is handsome, though, isn’t he?”
She lifted a page and revealed a picture of Prince Harris that didn’t look official. He was walking out of a
Handsome was definitely an understatement.
His dark hair was loose on his face in this picture, like he was caught escaping something far more sordid than a meeting. Angular jawline, straight nose, and those eyes. I kept going back to his eyes.
I needed to focus.
“Come with me! I’ll create a dress for you: you could be a great mannequin for a second design.”
I laughed and shook my head. “No way, absolutely not. I can’t even shift. Imagine if they found out a latent clan member tried to get on the dancefloor with the prince? They’d call it treason.”
“You’re not going to date Prince Harris, obviously,” she teased. “All you have to do is let me clad you in something as pretty as you are, and we can enjoy free food and good music.”
“Vivian would never let me,” I reminded her.
There was no way she’d let me anywhere near the castle.
Knowing her, she’d already heard of the ball. She was off picking out designer dresses for her daughters and scheming for ways to get them into the event early. She’d try it herself if she was young enough to woo the prince.
“Fuck Vivian,” Beth said quickly. How quick and harsh she was with it surprised me, and I caught myself watching the alley entrance as if she’d show up on cue. “That crazy woman will probably be fighting castle guards to let her daughters in. She won’t even notice you’re gone.”
“She’s probably already noticed I’m gone right now,” I reminded her.
“She’s the worst,” Beth sighed.
The image of Vivian waiting at home for me, standing on the other side of the door like a tightly wound spring, made my stomach churn. What if she really did already know I was gone?
My phone hadn’t rung yet, so there was a chance I was okay.
“I need to head back.”
Rain was starting to come down, and I couldn’t fight off my anxiety any longer. I was pushing my luck.
“No, stay. We were going to get lunch,” Beth’s voice softened. If I had lived with a typical family, I could have had lunch with her. That wasn’t my life, though.
I shook my head and stepped aside. “I really should go. I don’t want her flipping out on me.”
“You deserve better. Why not just move into my spare room?”
“I’m not leaving my father’s shop,” I reminded her. That was the only thing I had left that was really his. I couldn’t let it go. “I’m going to have to really think about going, okay? Don’t start making the dress or anything.”
“The ball is in less than a week. I’m going to start making the dress.” Beth handed me the paper, motioning to the date. She wasn’t letting me wiggle my way out of this. “Even if you can’t go, I can just sell the dress.”
I nodded, still feeling guilty.
“Text me when you return to the counter to ensure she didn’t catch you.”
“I will.”
“You better,” she teased. I shoved the newspaper back into her hands and hugged my purse against me as I headed back into the streets. We were supposed to get lunch during the half-hour. I could sneak away from the bakery, but I couldn’t risk wasting any more time.
If Vivian found out I even knew about the ball, much less had a vague plan to sneak out with Beth, that would be it.
She’d chain me to the bakery’s counter if she could.
Fortunately, I loved baking as much as my father did. My earliest memories were of him and my mother working together to create incredible treats and delights on the same counters I worked behind every day.
He would end up covered in flour, but he’d make little cakes with berries and bake buns shaped like cats and birds for my breakfasts.
My father could make anything possible if he wanted to.
As his daughter, I hoped I could make a tiny piece of his dreams a reality in the bakery.
The city slipped by me quickly, and I focused on the ground ahead.
A couple of wolves slipped by my left hip, and I found myself envying them terribly. Being able to shift seemed so natural to everyone. Even Beth took it for granted. I was stuck being an indentured servant to Vivian because I couldn’t shift and prove my worth to the clan.
If I could shift, my mom wouldn’t have fled the clan.
Maybe my father wouldn’t have died chasing after the idea of her even years later when he remarried.
It wasn’t healthy to put the weight of their deaths on my shoulders, but I didn’t know any other way to live. Vivian, despite how cruel she was, always helped me remember.
I had to prove my place in this clan.
If I couldn’t make myself useful, I would have no value.
Rounding the corner, I entered the bakery and quickly pulled my apron over my head. Tying it behind my back, I checked the dough I had covered before I left. It was half-risen, and I would need another half hour before I could knead it again.
Although my father treated baking like an art, I’d come to respect it as more of a science.
Less sugar, melting butter instead of leaving it cold, and adding or removing eggs could change everything about a recipe until it creates something new. A new arrangement of ingredients could make anything. All I had to do was try.
Recovering the dough, I pulled out some cupcakes and ensured they were cool enough to start icing. Regardless of how many customers I had, a day working in the bakery could fly by as long as I kept baking and working.
The front door’s bell clattered against it as I opened a new bag of powdered sugar.
“Welcome. How are you doing today?” I had to avoid stopping mid-sentence as I realized who it was.
Vivian stepped in from the downpour. The rain polka-dotted her dress, an almost absurd look compared to how purposeful every other part of her appearance always was.
She sneered at me. “You took a long break today,” she spat out. Rounding the counter, I avoided eye contact as she quickly assessed the entire space. Vivian was hunting for some cardinal sin I could have committed that would allow her to lay hands on me again.
“I stepped out for ten minutes to get some caffeine.”
It was a lie, but I wouldn’t bring up Beth and anger her even more.
She sighed. “We had a customer knocking on the door while you were gone. Do you know how bad that looks?”
“Did you help the customer?”
Vivian’s face tightened as if I’d cussed her out.
“No, I was upstairs in the house. Don’t be insolent,” her tone was vicious. “I looked down from my window and saw a customer standing there, and waited for you to answer the door. By the time I realized you weren’t here she started walking away.”
I messed up. I shouldn’t have gone at all. I was lucky she didn’t have cameras in the bakery, but having the house next door didn’t feel that different from constant surveillance. Vivian could see the guilt on my face, and her lips curled into a grimace.
“If this business closes because of y—”
The door opened, and I immediately paid attention to the new customer instead of her. At least our customers were generally sweet.
“Welcome! How are you doing today?”
An older man came in quickly, smiling and eyeballing the display case. “Just escaping all of that rain for now,” he explained. I noticed a damp newspaper under his arm and prayed that he wouldn’t try to discuss it with us.
If Vivian didn’t know, I didn’t want to be there when she found out.
Her hunger and ambition terrified me.
“Yes, I just wanted to grab a couple of things. Please give me the biggest cinnamon roll and a massive apple fritter. I got one last time that was the size of my head,” he laughed.
Vivian gave me a quick look of disapproval, and I knew I was going to get yelled at later about making the baked goods too big. She wanted things small and expensive, regardless of what our customers wanted or expected.
“We always aim to please,” her voice was saccharine as she took over the register while I gathered his goods. “That’ll be eighteen.”
The price she quoted him was five dollars more than the actual price.
He didn’t falter.
Instead, he set his paper on the counter and pulled out his wallet. I could feel Vivian’s attention hone in on the headline before I even saw her reading it. Of course.
