Page 1 of Coveted By the Alpha Pack

Chapter 1

Grace

- I want you–Savage Garden

As we turn the corner, I stop dead in my tracks. My breath catches in my chest as I stare at the most beautiful red hair I have ever seen. It’s long and curly, a brilliant auburn color that seems to glow in the sunlight. The way the light dances through the curls makes it appear as if it’s on fire, igniting something deep within me.

Broad shoulders frame the figure, and as he turns, I’m captivated by the sight of a long, thick red beard that matches his hair perfectly. My heart pounds in my chest, and I feel a rush of heat spread through me as I take in his freckled features.

“Oh, fuck…” I mutter under my breath, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within me like a tempest. My pulse races at a million miles an hour as I struggle to tear my gaze away from this stunning redhead.

“Grace?” Conrad’s voice breaks through the haze, but it sounds distant, as if coming from underwater. Despite his call, he doesn’t seem to react to the presence of the redhead.

“He’s not reacting to us,” my wolf whispers urgently, a note of confusion in her voice.

My eyes dart from the man called Lor to Conrad, then over to Shamus, searching for some clue as to what’s happening. But my attention is drawn back to Lor, and I find myself stepping closer, unable to resist the pull.

The wind shifts, carrying my scent to him, and I watch as recognition flashes across his face. “Shamus, where is she?” He demands, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

“Who, Lor?” Shamus’s voice is gentle as he steps closer to me, his presence a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of emotions raging within me.

“I smell my mate,” Lor says, his voice carrying a mixture of disbelief and wonder as he gazes in my direction, though his unseeing eyes fail to perceive me.

Shamus lowers his head to be level with my ear, his breath warm against my skin. “He’s been blind since birth. He never thought he would find you,” he murmurs softly, his words a balm to my racing heart. With a gentle nudge, he encourages me forward, and I brace myself for the impact of this moment.

“Hi?” I say when I’m within arm’s reach of him, my voice barely above a whisper, trembling with uncertainty.

“Lass?” His hand extends tentatively, and I guide it to my face, feeling the brush of his fingertips against my skin. His gasp fills the air, and I sense his eyes searching in the general direction of my presence.

Reaching up, I gently place my hand on his cheek, the roughness of his beard beneath my touch contrasting with the softness of his skin. It’s an intimate moment, filled with a myriad of emotions swirling between us.

“Grace!” Ethan’s shout pierces through the chaos. Instinctively, I release Lor, turning to face Ethan and shoving him protectively behind me. Every fiber of my being is pulled toward him, but I fight against it with all my strength. Lor’s presence has ignited something primal within me, something possessive and fierce.

“He’s mine…” I growl, my voice a low rumble as I lower my head to Ethan, my eyes flashing with a mixture of determination and desperation. I feel his presence soothe me, his calming energy washing over me like a gentle wave.

Ethan steps closer, entering my field of vision, and he gently raises my head to meet his gaze. His eyes, warm and understanding, plead with me silently to remember who I am, to hold on to the love and compassion that defines me. “Be the gentle, loving woman I know you are,” he whispers, his voice a soft murmur against the chaos surrounding us. “I’ll watch the children.”

As Ethan moves past me, I feel a sense of relief wash over me, knowing that he’s taking charge of the situation, that he’s there to support me. I watch as he embraces his friend, murmuring something comforting in his ear.

“Grace, this is Lorcan. Lor, this is Grace, our mate, and this generation’s Lunar Wolf,” Ethan introduces us, placing my hand in Lorcan’s with a solemn nod before stepping away, leaving me with a man I barely know. The weight of his hand in mine feels both foreign and strangely familiar, like a piece of a puzzle slotting into place.

As I stand close to Lorcan, I notice the gray, ghost-like haze in his pupils, a haunting reminder of something hidden beneath the surface. Yet despite the uncertainty, there’s a sense of security that washes over me in his presence. His hand envelops mine, and I find solace in the warmth of his touch.

“Lass, mind leading us to your home,” he whispers, his brogue carrying a ruggedness that resonates deep within me, stirring emotions I can’t quite comprehend. His words wrap around me like a comforting embrace, igniting a flicker of trust within my heart.

With a gentle slip, I release my hand from his and rest it lightly on his forearm. The gesture feels intimate yet instinctual, as if our connection transcends mere physical touch. Looping my arm with his, I guide him forward, using the strength of my biceps against the back of his arm to subtly steer us in the direction of home.

“There’s four steps, about six inches tall each. We will get to them in four steps,” I murmur softly, my voice laced with reassurance, hoping to ease any anxiety he might feel. With a gentle squeeze on his forearm, I guide him carefully, making sure he navigates the stairs without stumbling.

As we reach the top, he ascends effortlessly, and a sense of relief floods through me. “Thanks, lass,” he whispers, his voice carrying a hint of gratitude that warms my heart.

Conrad opens the front door, and Lorcan moves me forward, trusting me to lead him safely into the house. Inside, I keep close to him, guiding him with the same care as before, until we reach the couch.

“It’s a low couch. The arm of the chair is to your left just below your hip,” I explain gently, watching as he reaches down and back, finding his way to sit down. His smile of gratitude as I release him makes my chest swell with a mixture of tenderness and satisfaction.

“I’ll be right back,” I assure him before stepping away, a surge of determination guiding my steps as I prepare to attend to whatever needs to be done next.

The men’s voices drift into the kitchen, their conversation about the fire at the construction site creating a distant backdrop to my racing thoughts. I move mechanically, the weight of the moment pressing down on me like a leaden blanket.

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