Page 48 of Bound By My Alpha Mate

Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I turned my head and watched her. Sunlight glistened in her short silver hair streaked with brown. Her back gently rose and fell with quiet breaths as she remained asleep. I didn’t want to disturb her, so for another hour, I just lay with her and watched her, marveling at how fortunate I was to be here with her. We were both alive. Even though my body ached and her body was broken, and both of us had suffered such immense loss, we were together. My father was dead, and most likely, Lothair was, too. Their reign of terror had ended. We could finally rest.

A small, sharp inhalation was the precursor to Kiara waking up. She scrunched her face in response to her underlying pains, then peeled her eyes open and focused on me. Smiling, I waited patiently for the scene to register. She smiled back at me, and once again, I was stricken by her beauty.

“Good morning,” I said softly. I’d never been able to say that to somebody like this—the moment they woke up. “How are you feeling?”

Kiara’s smile faltered, but before saying anything, she craned her neck and kissed my cheek. “I feel like I got run over by a truck,” she replied, laughing quietly.

I laughed with her. “Me too.”

“Hmm. I wonder why.”

We would likely be sharing these pains for a while. I didn’t want to press her for her healing magic, knowing that she was already weakened by everything she had been through. It was alright; we had all the time in the world to recover now. “I’m so happy I got to wake up next to you,” I admitted.

Kiara’s fingers idly trailed along my jawline. “I’m happy this didn’t end any other way.”

“I could lie here forever with you.”

Her smile returned, a gleam in her violet eyes expressing a sincere joy that I had never witnessed before. She wore it well. I wanted her to look like that for the rest of her life. “Let’s pretend to be asleep for the next few hours, so nobody bothers us,” suggested Kiara.

“I can do that.” Honestly, I didn’t want to talk to anybody else.

We lay together, wrapped up in each other’s arms, for long, peaceful minutes, sharing tender kisses and touches. Her fingertips explored under my shirt and stroked my chest hair or traced my hips. I pulled her on top of me, and though we both still ached, the pain was dulled when we were pressed together like this. For these sweet moments, we forgot about everything we had lost in the last couple of days and took refuge in our closeness.

I thought again that this must be a dream. Kiara’s kisses were too good to be true.

Then she laughed under her breath and said, “Colt, I’ve decided. I want to be your mate,” and I pinched myself, expecting to wake up.

But I didn’t. I was very much awake and alive, lying here underneath Kiara.

“Mark me,” she whispered.

I felt delirious. We braced our teeth against one another’s necks and began a ritual of our own. Our bodies were prepared to be eternally entwined. They had already been so powerfully connected, though, that the marking ritual didn’t leave us feeling any different.

Only now, I had no doubt that Kiara would be mine forever.

Chapter 31

Kiara

In the weeks following the Lycan ritual, the Gunnison area fell into the sleepy tranquility of recovery. The aftermath had left all three packs in tatters, their numbers halved and any sense of security shattered. Even with Lothair and the dragons gone, uncertainty in the fates of the packs left many wolves questioning whether it was worth staying in the home they’d always known when it had become tainted by so much death and loss.

Mythguard cleaned up the mess that David had left behind. We were fortunate he hadn’t made it into the town and attacked any humans, but there were still many shifters whose deaths had to be explained to their human friends and families. A service was held for Sebastian Hicks and the other human operatives who had perished in the extermination attempts, and then each pack held its own funeral for those who had been slain over the past couple of months. With the onset of October, cool autumn weather turned the atmosphere miserable and grey, the solemn mood settling over each and every one of us. It was difficult to feel relief when we all had someone to mourn.

Dalesbloom crumbled following David’s death. Garrett, his Beta, had died the night of the ritual, leaving no leadership in place. Colt considered leaving the Gunnison area. He suggested that we move to a big city and try to build a new life there, leaving his father’s legacy behind. Although I was willing to go anywhere with him, Gavin and Everett implored him to reconsider. The two Alphas insisted that there had always been three packs in the Gunnison area, one pack for each town, so the territory could be protected equally among them. If Colt didn’t stay, then they didn’t know if they could trust whoever took over Dalesbloom. Billie didn’t want him to leave, either—he was her brother, no matter what had happened between them. They were family, and they still needed each other. Ultimately, Colt put off the idea of moving, at least for the present.

On a dark, rainy afternoon, Colt and I were cleaning up Hexen Manor. David had left it to him, but Colt was undecided on what to do with it yet. We went room by room and organized what was there, purging anything we didn’t need, sifting through his father’s documents to get a better idea of the business he was involved in—and what we might expect to encounter following his death. Along with the Manor, Colt inherited all of David’s outstanding debts and arrangements for illicit products moving through the towns. He didn’t know how he was going to pay everything off, except possibly by selling the Manor. I had no problem with that. The only memories I had of this foreboding house were of being kidnapped and held hostage within it.

We’d been working all afternoon in David’s study, loading stuff into boxes, when Colt stood up and sighed. “We’ve been at this for hours,” he said. “I think I need a break.”

Sitting in David’s chair, I gazed across the desk at Colt. He was looking better these days. Healthier. Colt maintained his hair in an Ivy League style cut, but he had left it somewhat haphazard today, with locks of black hair in messy tufts that were far more attractive than when he styled it for a day at the office. His blue eyes looked brighter behind the dark-rimmed glasses that he was wearing more often. Despite the leanness of his body, the muscular definition in his arms was hard to ignore, and his chest was becoming broader as he doubled down on his exercise regimen. Simple blue jeans and a black t-shirt made him appear as intellectual as he was attractive. He caught me staring at him and threw me a charming smile.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach. It was so easy to feel like I was falling in love with him over and over again.

“You look like you’re thinking about something,” Colt said, planting his hands on the desk. “What is it?”

I was briefly distracted by the rugged appeal of his knuckles, and then by the scar crossing the bridge of his nose. Leaning back in the chair, I brushed my fingers through my hair, took out my ponytail, and reconstructed it, my short hair already on its way to growing back out. “Just what I’d rather be doing instead of going through your dad’s boring paperwork.”

“And what’s that?”

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