Page 12 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

It’s him.

Reyes. Fucking. Garza.

I’ve seen him plenty of times through binoculars—watched him long enough to memorize every pore, every stray silver thread in his beard—but nothing prepared me for this.

Up close, he’smassive. Bigger than I imagined, his presence filling the room like he’s carved out of the space itself. His shoulders are broad, the kind of broad that makes doorways look too small, and his chest is a wall of bronzed muscle, dusted lightly with silver hair that gleams under the flickering light of the oil lamp. Every line of him is sharp, sculpted—defined cheekbones, a strong jaw framed by his salt-and-pepper beard, and a nose that’s slightly crooked, like it’s been broken more than once and never set quite right.

He’s shirtless, his torso tapering into a lean, powerful waist. A pair of worn sweatpants sit low on his hips, hugging his muscular thighs just enough to hint at the sheer strength coiled in his frame. The silver cross resting against his chest catches the lamplight.

And then there are his eyes. Dark, deep-set, and relentless, they seem to pierce straight through me, stripping me bare. There’s intelligence in them, sure, but also something untamed. Dangerous.

Like he could crush me in an instant and wouldn’t even need to shift to do it.

Up close, Reyes Garza isn’t just terrifying. He’s overwhelming—a storm contained in the body of a man, and I’m caught dead in the center of it.

And he’s got his hands up, likeI’mthe dangerous one here.

“It’s okay,” he says, his voice low and calm, like he’s trying not to spook me. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

It’s only then that I take in my own state–sore and a little bloody…but wearing clean clothes. Someone cleaned me up–probably him.

“You undressed me,” I snarl, panic rising.

“Not me,” he says. “Our doctor.”

“Right–as if I can believe you,” I say. “I mean…look at me! I’m…I’m so bloody, you almost killed me–”

“I didn’t do that,” he says, dead serious.

“Right, of course you didn’t…”

“You can deny it all you want,” he says with a shrug. “But whoever that kid was with you? He’s the one who shot you. Right in the gut.I’mthe only reason you’re still breathing.”

Holy shit...

David.

It all hits me at once—the woods, the wolf,David panicking like a dumbassand pulling the trigger. My hand flies to my stomach, expecting to feel torn flesh and a bullet hole, but instead, my fingers find neat stitches.

No bandages, just a row of stitches–like this was no big deal.

“How…?” I breathe. “If he shot me in thegut,how the hell am I still alive? How am I evenawakeright now?”

Reyes hesitates, like he’s weighing how much he wants to tell me. “We used…a lycanthrope technique to help you heal,” he says finally. “Don’t worry about it.”

Don’t worry about it?I open my mouth to respond, but then my brain catches up to something else. “Why the hell were we—” I gesture vaguely at the bed. “—like that? Why are you half-naked?”

“Skin-to-skin contact,” he says, running a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair like this is a completely normal thing to explain. “It’s…a lycanthrope thing.”

I gape at him. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only answer you’re getting,” he says, folding those massive arms over his chest.

I stare at him, still trying to catch up. Reyes Garza. The Alpha Prime. The man I came here to kill. And here I am, wearing someone else’s clothes, stitched up, and somehow still alive because of him.

This is a disaster.

“Well,” I say eventually, trying to sound casual. “Thanks for saving my life, I guess. Can I go now?”

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