Page 19 of The Alpha's Heart

Holy hell.

I’maroused.

My fingers itch to take hold of Bishop’s cock and stroke it until that fierce look on his face is wild with lust. He gave me permission by placing my palm against his erection in the first place. Touching an Alpha like that is something reserved for a mate, whether they’re a heart’s mate or a fated one. In all ways—with his words, with his actions—he’s showing me that he still considers me his.

And, if I can believe him, he always will.

I don’t stroke him. There will be plenty of time like that forever, especially since I can sense how tightly coiled my dominant male is at the moment. Wolf shifters need a lot of release, whether sexual or physical. I’m a maternal delta, so my instincts are little more muted than the more dominant wolves. As an Alpha? He would live by the shifters’ creed: We feed. We fight. We fuck.

The only difference is that, as guarded and wound-up as he is, Bishop also relies on an Alpha’s most important imperative: he protects.

One day, I’ll take him inside of my body and fuck all of his cares away. When I’m sure I love him because my heart says so and not just Fate, I’ll feed him so that I can show my affection for him in my own wolf’s way. Hopefully we’ll never fight, though I realize that the last of my fear for this impressive male is gone when I realize that, no matter how dominant he is, if I ever attempted to challenge him, he wouldn’t just refuse because he’s a stronger wolf. He’s forfeit before he ever laid a claw against me.

I mean, I have my hand millimeters away from his cock. I could grab him by the balls, and I think he would thank me for the touch even as I twist them… because I’m his mate, he’s mine, and we will always belong to each other.

There will be time for all that later; Bishop says ‘forever’, and I actually believe him. So, for now, I do something else that my wolf is telling me is right.

Ihughim.

Bishop’s big body stiffens. I have to remember that he’s younger than me. He’s a new Alpha with a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders, and a lot of baggage to unpack. Losing his parents so young, raising Helene, and then taking over as Alpha at twenty-one because his dominance is so off-the-charts that the old Alpha had no choice but to step aside… when was the last time he had a good, solid hug from someone that isn’t his omega sister?

He’s never had a mate or a lover. Neither have I. We’ve both agreed to forever without knowing exactly what we’re doing, but that’s the best part of being a shifter. We don’t have to know. We have our instincts to guide us, and as Bishop’s big body trembles before he closes his arms around me, tucking me under his chin as he bows his head over mine, cocooning me in his tight embrace… I know that mine are spot-on.

A lusty male might appreciate his intended mate stroking him off. But a male as touch-starved as my mate? This hug does wonders for both of us—and as we cling to each other, my wolf hums as the tether tying us together grows just a little bit stronger.

That night,we have a small breakthrough.

Bishop didn’t want to frighten me, but now that I’ve made it perfectly clear that I’m no longer afraid of him at all, when I invite him to lay next to me in the bed we’ll share forever, he does.

Nothing happens. I’m interested, especially after our kiss and the way he invited me to touch his cock, but I’m not the only one who’s been hesitant to jump into this mating with no safety net. Besides, Bishop made another firm Alpha decision as he was cuddling me close, wrapping me up in his arms.

We will be performing our Luna Ceremony in little more than a week. He sends Harris off to the group of gamma she-wolves to start planning on it, and just like he promised the night before, he starts touring me all around Hickory, making sure every packmate got to meet their future female Alpha.

Then, the day before the full moon, Bishop takes me out to the hickories where no one else goes apart from the higher-ranked packmates whose responsibility it is to keep our borders safe and protected.

And that’s when he quickly stripped down in front of me and, before I can marvel at what a naked Bishop Dupuis looks like in all his glory, he shifts.

In his place is an absolute beast of a red wolf. They’re not all that common among shifters—where our fur tends to be black, white, grey, or brindled—and that, plus his size, has me gaping at him as his dark eyes gleam up at me.

In his skin, Bishop is an impressive male. As big and brawny as he is, I expected his wolf to be huge— and he is. He’s massive, but he carries his bulk well. He chuffs softly as he lowers himself, as though he’s trying to make himself less intimidating.

He doesn’t shift back, though. With a low bark, he nods with his muzzle, inviting me closer.

I know what he’s doing. I might have gotten used to him in his skin, but would I be able to handle him as his wolf?

The answer to that one is easy: of course.

As I drop to my knees, running my fingers through his surprisingly soft fur, I find it hard to believe how my perception of this male has changed over the last few weeks. How could I ever have been afraid of him?

And I know I’m not being fair. Not to me, and not to Bishop. He is intimidating. His dominance is off the charts high. With his fangs, he could snap another’s shifter’s neck with one well-positioned bite. He rules the pack with an iron fist after only just becoming its Alpha. But heisfair. He’s respected and loved, by his packmates—and, I have to admit, byme.

Bishop’s bark becomes a husky laugh as he whips his head around, swiping his tongue along my cheek. I laugh, releasing his scruff, and he flops on his side before rolling onto his back. Four paws kick up in the air, showing me his belly.

You know I have to oblige.

As I rub his belly, using his fur to dry his slobber off of my skin, I had to admit something. Bishop can be scary when it counts, but like Helene once told me, he really is a big teddy bear.

That’s because he’s only like this around two people: his sister, andme.

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