Page 28 of The Wolf's Mate

And I don’t flinch.

Our eyes meet, and the bond sparks to life, begging me to move closer. To press my body against this man I barely know but am drawn to. How much of this is the mate bond, and how much of it is my need to have him close?

Rip also appears to be fighting a silent battle. Slowly, far too slowly, he drops his hand back down to his side. When he speaks again, his voice drops an octave. “You’re here to save us, Hettie. What you want, you’ll get. You’re my partner. My Luna. I will not stand in your way. Do you understand, Dove?”

“Yes, Alpha.” The words tumble out of me before I realize what I’m saying.

Rip sucks in a breath as he takes a step forward. There’s something feral in the way he looks at me, something I know I should feel scared about, but heat pools between my thighs instead.

“Say it again,” he growls. His hand reaches up, but this time it circles my neck. It’s the first time I don’t flinch away from a male’s touch. A needy sound leaves me involuntarily. How did things change so drastically, so fast? His thumb brushes my bottom lip. “Again, Dove.”

The command in his voice weakens my resolve. “Yes, Alpha,” I say automatically, and his hold on me tightens.

“I like it when you call me Alpha,” he says as if the hand on my neck and thumb on my lip isn’t a dead giveaway. I can’t help but feel smug knowing that, as crazy as he is driving me, I’m doing the same to him.

Because I’m feeling particularly bratty, I lean into his touch, nearly choking myself. It only makes this exchange hotter because I love a good hand necklace in bed. Rip’s nostrils flare, and I swear he’s seconds away from snapping. Do I want that?

“Only good boys get called Alpha.” The flash of anger and desire that flashes across his features leaves me feeling victorious as I step out of his grip and turn my back on him. It takes everything in my power not to turn my head to see his expression. The overwhelming feeling of lust coming from the bond tells me all I need to know.

“Let’s go, Alpha. I’m sure there’s more you need to show me.” I keep walking, and for a long time, I don’t hear Rip follow me. I think I may have taken it a step too far when I hear the crunch of grass behind and the heat from Rip’s body as he catches up.

“Just remember, Dove. Naughty girls get punished,” he says.

This time I’m the one left stunned, mouth slightly ajar.

“Come,” he calls again, and I find myself following orders for once.

Chapter 13

Rip

Aglass of red wine sits untouched in front of Hettie on the dining room table. She’s more enamored with the small tray of biscuits and fruits. She catches me staring and raises her brow as she bites down on a grape. Some of the juice rolls down her chin, and I watch as it disappears. I’m tempted to lick up the juices myself.

“What?” Hettie mumbles in between bites. “If you wanted some, you should have said something.” She keeps the bowl of fruit close to her, protecting it like a mother bird would protect her nest.

“Not a fan of wine?” I ask.

“Hmm? Oh, no, not really. Never liked the taste of wine. I like beer though.” Hettie scoots the glass over to me. “You can have it. Just not the food.”

I’m reminded again of how thin Hettie is. I will gladly keep bringing out food if she so desires. But this small moment reminds me that I still know virtually nothing about my mate. I’m a greedy bastard, and I want to know everything. It’s about time she spills her secrets.

Starting with why she’s here.

“Hettie, why did you make the deal with Ender to become my wife?” I ask the burning question on my mind. Really, I want to know just how bad things were that made her want to leave her world entirely.

“Ah, fuck,” Hettie mumbles under her breath, leaning back in her chair. She doesn’t seem surprised that I asked the question, but she also doesn’t look eager to share. “Does it matter?” she asks after a pregnant pause.

“I would argue it matters the most. I made the deal with Ender to strengthen my pack against rogues and Nephilim. I gain so much by you being here, but I can’t figure out what you gain.” Tell me, I want to say. My wolf begs me to say, but I once promised her that I wouldn’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do. That includes now.

Hettie clenches her jaw, tightening her hold on the bowl of fruit. The confident woman from seconds ago is gone. All I see now is a fearful, lost girl, unsure how to proceed.

“You can talk to me, Dove.” My voice is gentle. A light purr rumbles through my throat, and Hettie’s shoulders slouch.

“You’re going to regret taking me as your wife if I tell you.” She seems genuinely worried about my opinion of her. My wolf stirs inside me, needing to comfort his mate.

“I highly doubt that. You don’t become the King Alpha without blood on your hands. Whatever you have to tell me, there will be no judgment on my end.” Because, at the end of the day, Hettie is a survivor. Or she wouldn’t be sitting in front of me now.

“My father died,” she says so gently that I can barely hear her. “He was in and out of hospitals for the last few months of his life, and it’s my fault.”

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