Page 29 of The Alpha's Heart

But my male is calling for me, and I must go to him.

Taking a knee, I hold out my hands. The she-wolf disentangles herself from the other two pups. The brindled future Alpha chuffs and rolls from his back to his belly beforebounding next to her. The small black-furred delta chases his tail when he realizes he’s alone.

I pet the two that come near me. Marcy and JR. “Go on,” I tell them. “Find your mamas. We’ll play later.”

The brindled pup answers me with a high-pitched howl. The she-wolf rubs her cheek against my palm before bumping the alpha, then taking off, enticing him to chase. The black wolf scratches his ear with his back leg.

“You, too, Rowan,” I tell him.

As if realizing she forgot her younger brother, Marcy comes back, JR tromping alongside her. Rowan pulls himself up to all fours, tongue lolling out of his open mouth as he gives them both a wolfy smile before the three of them dash home.

I watch them go as I get back to my feet. Ginnie is sitting on her porch, braiding her hair. I don’t even have to tell our healer to keep an eye on the pups. She lets her hair settle over her shoulder, climbing up and moving easily down the stairs so that she can make sure they don’t get in any trouble on their way.

That’s what a pack does. I don’t have to give her the command, though—as the Alpha female—it would be expected of me. We’re a community in Hickory. We’re afamily. We look out for each other, and JR, Marcy, and Rowan’s mothers don’t have to worry about their pups exploring their territory on their own because, in the pack, no one is ever on their own.

From our fierce, devoted Alpha down to the wisest and most mature gamma wolf, we will protect one another. Bishop is our leader—and he’s my heart.

Over the years, our bond has only grown. What began as a single thread tying us together has become an unbreakable steel chain that keeps us linked. At any given moment, I can find him on the other end. I know where he is. What he’s thinking. I’m not an omega she-wolf like his sister is, but I can sense how he’s feeling, and right now?

Bishop is anxious.

No, I think to myself, following that link toward him; not surprisingly, he’s in the den of the Alpha cabin, available to every and all of our packmates to meet with him if they need to. Bishop… he doesn’t get anxious. Alphas are decisive. They see things in black and white. If someone’s in trouble, help them. If someoneistrouble? Kill them. The safety and security of the pack comes first, and there isn’t anything he won’t do to ensure that Hickory is protected.

But something is bothering him, and it’s as instinctive for him to reach out to me as it is for my wolf to do everything in her power to soothe his.

If it was a problem with the pack or its hierarchy, he’d rely on West first. That’s his Beta, after all, and his right-hand wolf. Then there’s Helene. Not only is she his family, but she’s the Omega. Her role in the pack is part-peacemaker, part-therapist. But since I pass Helene on my way to the cabin I share with Bishop, and I don’t pick up West’s tell-tale sandalwood scent as I approach the den, I know that this might be pack business, but it’s also something that’s affecting my mate personally.

I had to learn how to be an Alpha’s mate. Bishop? He’s grown into being the leader of our pack over the last eight years, but with me at his side, he’s also had to figure out how to rein his dominance in a little so that we could be partners. He’s still a gruff, scowling, bearded male who seems to grow bigger every winter, yes. He’s alsomine, and I wouldn’t want him any other way.

He can sense me coming. Before I can reach for the door to the den, it swings in, and there he is. His dark gold eyes light up as he sees me. Reaching out, Bishop wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest.

I let him hold me. He shudders out a shaky breath, just one, and I can feel the weight on his shoulders ease a little bit. As theAlpha, it’s always a lot. Never more than he can handle, but he’s responsible for every single packmate at every moment of the day. He’ll never forget that, though when I’m at his side as his bonded mate, I share as much of the load as I can.

Like now.

Bishop gives me a gentle squeeze. Dropping a kiss to the top of my hair, he breathes in again and lets me go long enough to snag my hand. His warm fingers cover mine as he tugs, leading me toward his desk.

There are two chairs set behind it: the oversized wooden one that’s built for Bishop’s bulk, plus a smaller, daintier version that he had made for me for the one month anniversary of our bonding. Any worries I had that Bishop’s pack wouldn’t accept me as their Alpha’s mate disappeared almost immediately after I first arrived in Hickory. Bishop chose me. It didn’t matter that Fate picked me out for him first, or that the Luna gave him my name. Bishop bit me. He mated me. He chose me, and because of that, this pack became my pack.

As the female half of the Alpha couple, my packmates prefer to have me around when meeting with Bishop. My presence tempers his dominance, and if his Alpha nature becomes too much, I’m always there to act as a mediary. Plus, after being his mate for so long, I’m a pro at translating any of his grunts and snarls when his wolf is riding him hard.

I see his beast staring back at me when I meet his gaze. He’s still in his skin, though I can sense how much he wants to shake off his clothes, shift to his fur, and run. He won’t. If there’s one thing I know about my mate—besides the fact that he adores me—is how good his control is over himself.

But when he takes his seat, then uses his grip on my hand to maneuver me so that I’m sitting sideways on his lap, my shoulder tucked against him? He’s in control, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t take comfort in holding me close.

I lift my hand, cradling his bearded jaw. Tilting my head back, I take in his furrowed brow, the way his cheeks are hollowed, and the wild look in his eyes. My beautiful, beautiful mate. I kiss him, a quick peck that does wonders to remind him that I’m here, that I’m his, and that he can let down his guard. Bishop will always be a dominant alpha wolf, but with me? He doesn’t have to be.

The moment my lips touch his, his big body relaxes further. He dips his face forward, pressing his forehead against mine for a moment once I finish the kiss.

“Thank you, cher,” he breathes out, nuzzling our noses together. “I needed that.”

He neededme.

I shift on his lap so that I can rub my palm against his chest, keeping a connection. I feel the way his heart is beating in his chest, pounding louder and quicker than usual. “Talk to me, my love,” I murmur. “What’s wrong?”

He sighs. “Canari.”

Helene. Bishop’s younger sister. She’s twenty-four now, older than I was when I came to Hickory, but he still looks at her and sees a young pup. I don’t know what she could’ve done to put him on edge. Our pack Omega, she’s beloved. A sweet and kind female, she’ll do anything for anyone—especially Bishop. He’s still as overprotective of her as he is me, and she allows it because, well, that’s her big brother.

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