Be Careful With My Heart, Alpha Reginald | Read Free Preview
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Chapter 1
Nimue POV
“You’re trying to kill me.”
I burst into laughter and looked over my shoulder at Reginald, who was struggling behind me with a basket full of grapes hanging from his arm.
“You’ve been saying that for six months,” I teased.
“Because work in the vineyard is pure torture,” he groaned dramatically. “I swear these grapes are heavier than they appear to be. I don’t think they are the same as the grapes in other vineyards.”
“They’re normal grapes, Alpha.”
“Former Alpha,” he corrected quickly. “Apparently I’m just poor now.”
I laughed harder. My voice sailed softly through the quiet vineyard as the evening wind brushed through the grape leaves around us. The workers had already gone home hours ago, leaving only the two of us under the fading orange sky.
Reginald finally reached me and dropped the basket onto the wooden cart with a loud grunt.
“That’s the last one,” I said.
“Thank the Moon Goddess.” He wiped sweat from his forehead and leaned against the cart, breathing heavily.
I crossed my arms. “You’re such a wreck. For an Alpha, sorry, former Alpha, you are so weak.”
His mouth dropped open. “Weak? Nimue, I used to have servants do the dirty work for me.”
“And now you have muscles to do the dirty work yourself, bag of lazy bones.”
He narrowed his eyes at me before suddenly grabbing my waist. I squealed as he pulled me against him.
“Take it back,” he warned.
“Never.”
“Take. It. Back.”
“You’re so weak, Reginald Hathaway.”
He gasped as if I had stabbed him. Then he buried his face against my neck dramatically. “This is not fair.”
I could not stop smiling. Six months ago, I barely spoke to this man. Now, I could not imagine my days without him.
When Reginald first arrived in our village after Alpha Gerald cast him out, everyone thought he would run back to his father within a week. Honestly, I thought so too. The first day at the winery, he complained about dirt on his boots for almost two hours. By the third day, he got blisters carrying grape baskets. By the fifth day, he almost fainted because he skipped breakfast and tried showing off. I still remembered laughing at him while he sat in the mud, looking offended at life itself.
But somehow, he stayed. And somewhere between long workdays and stolen smiles in the vineyard, I fell in love with him without noticing.
Reginald suddenly kissed my cheek. “What are you thinking about again,” he murmured.
“Nothing… nothing at all,” I said.
“You’re beautiful.”
I froze slightly. He always did that, slipping sweet words into conversations so naturally that my heart never had time to prepare.
Reginald smiled softly when he saw my face heating up. “There she is,” he whispered. “My shy little princess.”
“I’m not shy.”
“You couldn’t even look at me the first month we met.”
“That’s because you were annoying.”
“Annoyingly handsome, you wouldn’t stop staring.”
“And arrogant,” I added.
“I’m still handsome.”
I rolled my eyes and started walking toward my cottage before he could see me smiling again. The small house sat near the edge of the vineyard beside rows of grape trees. It was old and tiny, but it was home.
The moment we entered, Reginald threw himself onto one of the wooden chairs dramatically. “I deserve payment for my suffering.”
“You already ate half the grapes while working.”
“That’s not payment.”
I shook my head and lit the candles around the room while he watched me quietly. The cottage became warmer instantly. I turned toward the kitchen table and nearly smacked Reginald’s hand. “You’re stealing bread now?”
“I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving.”
“That’s because you work me like a slave.”
I snorted softly while arranging plates on the table. Then I noticed he had gone quiet. When I looked up, Reginald was staring at me.
“What?” I asked softly.
He leaned back in the chair slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “One day,” he said quietly, “you’re going to own a winery bigger than every vineyard in this pack.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I’m serious.”
I laughed nervously and shook my head. “Reginald…”
“No, listen to me.” He stood up and walked closer. “You know more about this business than people twice your age. The workers respect you. Even the managers listen to you.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means everything.”
I looked away quickly. Nobody had talked about my dreams seriously before, not after my parents died, and especially not as an omega. Owning a winery was impossible for someone like me. I barely went to school. Most days, I still worried about money.
“You really think I can do it?” I asked quietly.
He stepped closer until his hands rested gently on my waist. “I know you can.”
Oh Moon Goddess. I loved this man too much.
Reginald brushed his fingers softly across my cheek. “You doubt yourself too much.”
“That’s because life has not given me reasons to do otherwise.”
“Well, life is stupid.”
I laughed softly. Then his eyes dropped to my lips. The room suddenly felt warmer, quieter. The way he looked at me made my breathing uneven.
When Reginald kissed me, it started softly. His lips brushed mine like he was tasting something precious, something fragile. I had been longing for him to do this, so I melted into him immediately, my small hands rising to clutch his shirt. I could feel the solid mass of his chest beneath my fingertips.
He tilted my head back gently, deepening the kiss slowly and deliberately. My knees buckled slightly, and his arm wrapped around my waist instantly, holding me steady against his massive frame.
"Easy, my darling," he murmured against my mouth.
I trembled. He was so big, so warm. Everywhere I touched him, there was hard muscle and heat.
"Reginald..." I breathed.
His hand slid up my back, his fingers tracing my spine through the thin fabric of my dress. I shivered. His touch was reverent, almost worshipful.
"I'm nervous," I admitted.
He pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were dark and tender, but there was a hunger underneath that made my stomach flip.
"We can stop anytime," he said. "Say the word, and I'll hold you all night without another touch."
I shook my head. "I don't want you to stop. I want this. I want you." My voice wavered, but the conviction was real.
He kissed me again, deeper this time, and I felt his hand slide down to the hem of my dress. Slowly, he gathered the fabric, lifting it over my hips. The cool air bit my thighs, and I gasped against his lips.
"You are so beautiful," he breathed, looking down at me.
I felt exposed, bare. His fingers found the waistband of my panties, and he paused. "Tell me if you want me to stop."
"Don’t stop."
He slipped them down slowly and deliberately, letting them fall to my ankles. I stepped out of them, suddenly aware of how naked I was from the waist down while he was still fully clothed.
"Your turn," I whispered, reaching for his belt.
He caught my wrist gently. "Later. Tonight is about you."
He lifted me effortlessly, and I gasped, wrapping my legs around his waist. My dress bunched around my hips, and I could feel the rough denim of his jeans against my bare thighs. He carried me to the bed and laid me down. Then he stood over me, looking down with desire in his eyes.
"You're so beautiful, Nimue."
Tears pricked at my eyes. "Don't make me cry."
He smiled softly, then lowered himself over me, bracing his weight on his elbows so he wouldn't crush me. I felt so small beneath him, so protected. He kissed my neck, my collarbone, the hollow of my throat. His lips trailed lower, and his fingers found the buttons of my dress. One by one, he undid them, pressing kisses to the newly exposed skin.
When the dress fell open, he stopped. "Damn, Nimue."
I was completely bare now, save for the dress pooled around my waist. His eyes roamed over me, and I saw his throat move as he swallowed.
"I've dreamed of this," he said roughly.
"Touch me."
His hand came to my breast, cupping it gently. His thumb brushed over my nipple.
“Reginald…” I breathed when he broke the kiss to trail his lips along my jaw.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” His voice was low, rough with want, but he moved with careful restraint, like he was holding back a storm. He lowered his head and took my nipple into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue made me cry out, my fingers tangling in his hair.
“Yes, like that…” My hips bucked involuntarily.
He moved lower, kissing down my stomach. “You’re perfect,” he said.
He spread my thighs gently, and I trembled when I saw the size of his hands against my pale skin. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh, then the other, working his way up. My breath hitched when his mouth hovered over my entrance.
“Let me taste you,” he murmured, and before I could answer, his tongue swept through my folds.
I bucked and cried out, clutching the sheets. He licked slowly and deliberately, circling my center with the flat of his tongue, then pulling it between his lips. Moans spilled from me. “Oh god, Reginald, mmm…”
He hummed against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my body.
“I need you,” I sobbed, tears streaming down my temples. “Please, I need you inside me.”
He crawled up my body, removing his clothes. I looked down, and a fresh wave of fear hit me. He noticed.
“Hey.” He cupped my face, wiping my tears. “Look at me, sweetheart.”
I did.
“It’s just me. I’ve got you. I won’t hurt you more than I have to. Breathe with me.”
I inhaled shakily, and he kissed me while he pressed against my entrance. When he entered, inch by inch, I gasped into his mouth. My walls stretched around him, and I squealed in a mixture of sweet pain and pleasure, but his hands never stopped stroking my hair, my cheeks, and my hips. He paused when he was halfway, letting me adjust.
“I love you,” I said as tears escaped my eyes.
“I love you too, Nimue. More than you know.”
He thrust forward the rest of the way, and I cried out from the intense fullness. My nails dug into his shoulders. He stayed still, letting me feel him, letting the pressure settle. Then I stared deeply into his eyes, pleadingly, before I whispered softly against his lips, “Be careful with my heart, Alpha Reginald.”
“I promise,” he groaned, his pace increasing. “Damn, you’re so tight.”
The wet sounds of our bodies filled the room.
“I’m close,” I whimpered, the pressure coiling in my belly.
“Give it to me, baby. I’ve got you.”
The climax crashed over me like a wave. I arched off the bed, a throaty cry tearing from my throat, and my walls clenched around him. He groaned and thrust a few more times before spilling inside me, his body shuddering. He collapsed onto me and buried his face in my neck.
“Reginald?”
He pulled back, trying to smile, but it failed. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t deserve you.”
I touched his cheek, my heart aching. “Why would you say that?”
He didn’t answer. He just kissed me again, softer this time.
Chapter 2
Nimue POV
The morning sun filtered fresh rays through the small window of my cottage, I appreciated the subtle warmth on my skin as I teased and turned in between tangled sheets. I stretched my hand across the bed, a soft smile already forming on my lips as I prepared to meet Reginald’s warm embrace.
My fingers brushed against the cold empty part of the bed.
I opened my eyes, blinking against the light. The spot beside me was completely vacant. The sheets were cold, meaning he had been gone for hours.
Or maybe I was just assuming things.
"Reginald?" I called out, drowsily, in between sleep.
Silence answered me.
Uneasy feelings began to settle into the pit of my stomach. I sat up, pulling the blanket around my shoulders, and looked around the small room. Everything looked exactly as it had last night, except for a small piece of folded paper resting on the table.
I could only manage a smile as I assumed maybe he stepped.
I don’t know how much I had slept, but I loved the joy that bubbled inside of me.
But then, not waking up to Reginald by my side was so unusual it had my heart drumming violently against my ribs.
Normally he would be curdled up at a corner sleeping or mischievously watching me while I slept. Every time my eyes met those dreamy eyes of his, I envision having three pups for him, wishing and praying they would look just like him.
I scrambled out of bed, barely noticing the chill of the wooden floor against my bare feet. My hands shook as I picked up the paper. I opened it slowly, my eyes scanning the hurried handwriting.
I'm sorry, Nimue. I can't do this life with you. I'm leaving for America. You're better off without me.
The words blurred. I read them again. And again.
America.
The paper slipped from my fingers, fluttering to the floor. I collapsed into the wooden chair, the very chair he had been sitting in just hours ago when he told me I would own a winery one day. The very chair where he had laughed and stolen bread from my hands.
I struggled to gather myself together as my heart beat dubbled it’s rhythm.
There was no way this was real.
I rubbed my hands around my neck, the back of my neck and forehead just to be sure I was not dreaming, my temperature spiking almost instantly.
It was all a lie.
This letter was a lie.
Reginald could not have abandoned me.
No way was this possible.
My mind flashed back to how he had smiled in my face, made love to me until the early hours of the morning, and whispered promises of love.
It was difficult to reconcile all the sweet things he had done with this damning reality that he did all those things all along knowing he was going to abandon me.
What even hurt me more was that he had taken my innocence, held my heart in his massive protective hands of his, and crushed it without a second thought.
"You coward," I whispered into the empty room, tears finally spilling over my eyelashes and scalding my cheeks. "You miserable coward."
Alpha Reginald had left me.
He promised he would be mine and I would be his forever.
What becomes of my orphaned heart now?
And while I understood he didn't want the hard work. He didn't want the mud, the whispers of the villagers, or the struggle of building a life from nothing. He had assured me he was going to make sure we lived comfortably and not had to rely on the pennies we earned in the winery.
I was very much okay with the pennies we earned as long as I got to share with Reginald, he had become my world. So apparently, Reginald Hathaway, chose his comfort over me.
I looked down at the dried grape flower resting on the table. It was the one I had given him months ago, a silly token to make him stop complaining about carrying baskets. He had left it behind. It could only mean that nothing we built here mattered to him.
Deeply engulfed and suffocated by grief, I wanted to curl up in the blankets and sob until the pain went away. I wanted to scream at the Moon Goddess for allowing me to trust him.
What the hell was I thinking trusting a Man.
What in the hell was I thinking a wealthy heir of the Hathaway pack would settle for an impoverished, dumb and wretched omega like myself.
The whole time I was delusional and stupid, and this was my stupidity being paid forward.
“Ügh! Oh!” I struggled to breath trying to contain the myriad of emotions coursing through me.
But as I sat there in the quiet cottage, staring at the note, the grief slowly began to harden into something else.
I prayed to the moongoddess for strength to move on.
I remember I had begged him to be careful with my heart, and he had broken his promise within hours.
I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my hand, breathing shakily.
It was high time I came to terms with my reality.
I was an omega, half -educated, delusional day dreamer, left alone in a village that already looked down on me. I had no money, no family, and now, the man I loved had abandoned me. If I let this break me, I would destroy myself.
I stood up, walked over to the note, and picked it up. I tossed it into the small fireplace, watching the flames consume his apologies until nothing but ash remained.
I woud survive.
If Reginald thought I was better of without him, why would I sit here and waste away, crying over a privileged coward?
I walked to the window, looking out at the vast rows of the vineyard. The sun was fully up now, and the workers would be arriving soon.
"I will build that winery, Reginald," I whispered, my voice no longer trembling. "You would not meet me the same way you left me, I will make sure you pay for this heart ache, even the moon goddess will not save you from my wrath."
Chapter 3
Nimue POV
It was funny how quickly time could rewrite a person's life.
I say this so much has changed in my life over the past couple of years, six years to be precise. I do not know if what I feel is gratitude bubbling inside me or perhaps I was nervous. I managed to hide my emotions perfectly as I sat before the vanity mirror in the master bedroom, watching the omega maid put the finishing touches on my hair. My dark curls spilled elegantly over one shoulder, styled to absolute perfection. I simply leaned back, we had been doing my make up for over three hours, allowing her to do her work, admiring how the stunning black dress I wore hugged my curves. It made me look completely feminine, yet radiating an undeniable she-power.
"You look absolutely breathtaking, Luna Nimue," the maid murmured, adjusting the silver diamonds resting on my neck.
"Thank you, Mara," I replied, offering her a soft smile, “I guess this will be all for now, or there’s more?”
“No…not at all Luna” she replied with her head bowed.
Before I could rise, the doors to the bedroom opened. My son, Reggie, trotted inside, holding a tiny toy wolf tightly in his small hands. He looked up at me with wide, dreamy eyes, his dark curly hair perfectly framing his little jaw. My chest instantly filled with warmth. There was something about the way he stared at me that had me thanking the moon goddess for making me his mom.
"Mommy?" he called out, a hesitant tug on my dress drawing my attention.
"Yes, my love?" I murmured, leaning down to smooth his collar.
"Is the guest here yet? Dad said we cant eat until the guest arrives. I am hungry"
Before I could answer, a deep, authoritative voice spoke from the doorway. "Our guest should be arriving any moment now, my boy. Why are you so hyped up?"
My husband stepped into the room. He looked commanding as always in his tailored suit, but his expression softened beautifully the moment his gaze fell upon Reggie and me. Over the past few years, my loving husband had and still has been my anchor. From the moment we married, he had been an unwavering pillar of support.
He walked over, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "I will go down to greet him first. Wait for my call, Nimue."
"Of course," I replied calmly.
After he left, a solemn silence settled over the room. Mara began organizing the cosmetics on the vanity, but my heart rate gave an uncharacteristic spike.
I tried not to give off the impression that I was nervous or anticipatory of our guest, but I was. Six years was enough to be a good liar.
Nearly about an hour later, for the seventh time today, another knock rattled the door. An omega maid stepped inside, bowing her head. "Luna, the young Alpha from overseas has just arrived. Your husband requests your presence when you are ready."
"Thank you. Tell him I will be down shortly," I said.
But as the door clicked shut, a strange paralysis gripped me. I stared at my reflection. The young Alpha. My stepson.
I took a deep, shaky breath, suddenly unsure if I was ready to face the ghosts of my past. I delayed, picking up a lipstick I didn't need, smoothing my already immaculate dress. Minutes bled into one another.
And I remained painfully unsure.
The door opened again, and Mara stepped back in, looking anxious. "Luna? Your husband sent me to check on you. Is everything alright?"
"Yes," I lied, my voice tight. "I’m coming."
Holding Reggie’s small, warm hand, I finally stepped out of the bedroom and into the long corridor. The mansion felt unusually quiet, until I approached the top of the staircase. Keeping myself hidden in the deep shadows of the railing, I looked down toward the foyer.
"Dad. It’s good to be back." I heard a rich masculine voice say.
My breath caught in my throat. The world around me seemed to tilt.
It was him. It was undeniably him.
Just hearing the smooth, deep cadence of his tone sent a sudden, agonizing ache straight through my chest—a gust of pain I thought I had buried years ago resurfaced instantly. Flashbacks hit me like a physical blow.
I remembered the night he had made love to me—the desperate, breathless promises whispered as he claimed me, leaving me equally breathless, sweet pain blooming inside me. And then, the excruciating agony of the morning after. The morning I woke up to a cold, empty bed, realizing he had vanished without a single goodbye. I remembered waiting for days by the window, staring out at nothing in particular, praying for a letter, a text, any sign that he hadn't truly abandoned me. I had been so terrified that something terrible had happened to him—only to find out weeks later that he had simply departed. He had left me behind without a second thought.
In that quiet moment down the memory lane, loneliness engulfed me, it was a kind of benign loneliness I was familiar with back then, tearing my heart into so many pieces that the pain became too much to bear.
So, piece by piece, I had let it freeze. The weak, fragile girl who cried herself to sleep was dead. In her place stood the Luna of the Hathaway pack. And I swear by the moon goddess, I would make Reginald pay for betraying me like this.
From where I hid myself, I could see Reginald the center of the entrance hall, tossing his jacket onto a nearby chair. America had changed him. He looked broader, older, his suit fitting his muscular frame perfectly.
"The flight was brutal," Reginald said, looking around with a proprietary air. "But the house looks exactly the same."
"A lot has changed, actually," Gerald replied, a sharp edge to his tone. "While you were away, the dynamics of this household shifted. You are no longer the only heir residing here, Reginald. I have taken a wife."
Reginald froze, his hand pausing on his collar. He blinked, staring at his father in sheer disbelief. "A wife? You remarried? Who on earth did you marry?."
The curiosity in Reginald's voice was palpable, I wondered what his response would be if he saw me. I hope he maintains the same energy for those years.
I squeezed Reggie's hand. "Are you ready, my love?"
"Yes, Mommy."
I stepped out of the shadows. My heels make soft clicks as I took a gentle stride down.
At the sound, Reginald’s eyes instantly drifted upward.
Our gazes locked across the vast expanse of the hall. I watched his expression melt from smug curiosity into absolute, blinding shock. The color completely drained from his face.
He was completely, utterly unraveled.
“Nimue…” The name left his mouth like a dying gasp, as if he were looking at a ghost.
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