Page 82 of The Alpha Under My Bed

I went still. Too still.

Because suddenly, everything became too much to bear. His scent was overwhelming, intoxicating. The bond between us thrummed with a raw, pulsing intensity, thick and suffocating, pressing in on me from every direction. The ache between my legs was unbearable, a constant reminder of his presence, and the sharp burn of the bite mark on my throat still seared with heat, a claim that would never fade. The weight of his knot, still deep inside me, held me in place, and I couldn't escape it. And worse? The unbearable truth that he had never truly been a stranger to me.

That the alpha I had spent weeks falling apart for had been him the entire time.

My best friend.

My Mal.

A jagged breath ripped from my chest. Too fast. Too loud. Mal shifted, his nose brushing the hinge of my jaw, his voice low and thick with satisfaction.

“Easy, sweetheart.”

His lips skimmed my mark, his tongue flicking out to taste it—to taste me.

He fucking knew. He knew I was about to break.

And that’s when it happened.

The blind, white-hot rage. The devastation. The unbearable, mind-numbing betrayal.

I wrenched back. Tried to. His arms didn’t budge. A sharp sound tore from my throat—half a sob, half a snarl.

“Let me go.”

Mal sighed, but finally, finally, his grip loosened. The second he did, I ripped myself away, scrambling back, dragging the sheets with me. My back hit the headboard, my body coiled so tight it hurt, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. But I could still feel him inside me. Still ached from him. Still wanted him. And that was the worst fucking part.

I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms as I forced myself to breathe past the heat burning behind my eyes.

My best friend.

My alpha.

My fucking captor.

“You lied to me,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath, thick with the weight of the truth.

Mal didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch. His expression remained stone-cold, unreadable, because of course, he knew this moment was coming. Of course, he had already prepared for it, for every word, every glance, every shred of my pain. Of course, he’d been playing the long game, all along, waiting for the perfect moment.

And that—that realization—made me want to tear him apart.

The weight of it all crashed down on me, an unrelenting tidal wave of betrayal, fury, and something far worse—devastation. It clawed at my throat, tightened around my ribs, turned my insides to raw, twisted knots.

Mal had been my safe place. The one constant in a life full of chaos. The person I trusted more than anyone.

And yet, all this time, he’d been lying to me.

Manipulating me.

Playing both sides while I crumbled, desperate and broken, clinging to him, oblivious to the fact that the alpha I had fallen apart over had always been him.

My pulse thundered, rage and confusion twisting together until I could barely think straight. I stumbled back a step, shaking, my heart slamming against my ribs so hard it hurt. My mind tried to reconcile the two versions of him—the Mal I had loved and the alpha who had been pulling my strings all along.

But my body didn’t care.

It still hummed with the aftershocks of the bond.

Still ached for his touch.

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