Page 77 of Taken By the Alpha Priest

“I liked watching you with them tonight,” Reyes murmurs as we amble down the stone corridor. “With the pack, I mean.”

“For what it’s worth, I liked being with them,” I reply. “But I have to ask—you don’t just think it’s the mating bond, do you? I know it can do some weird things to your mind, and I’m just worried that…”

I trail off. I can’t bring myself to even say the words—that maybe this isn’t real, that I’m throwing away my life in Homestead for an illusion generated by pheromones.

Reyes opens the door and I give him a grateful smile as I step inside. Heat rises in my stomach at the sight of the rumpled sheets on the bed, still a mess from our lovemaking this morning. Isn’t there a chance that I’m just horny?

“What are you worried about?” Reyes asks.

I turn and fall to a seat on the bed, my brow furrowed. “I think I’m just wondering if this is real,” I say. “Do I feel at home here because I truly belong, or because of some…you know, some wolf shit? I can feel my body changing, and I’m wondering if it’s my mind, too.”

Reyes frowns, his brows drawing together as he chews on his bottom lip. His hand moves instinctively to the big silver cross that hangs around his neck, his fingers curling around it through his shirt. He seems to draw strength from the gesture, fiddling with the pendant for a moment before he comes to kneel in front of me.

“Tilda,” he says softly, his voice carrying an unfamiliar vulnerability. “Can I touch you?”

The question catches me off guard. We’ve been in and out of each other’s arms so much in the past few days that I can’t believe he’s even hesitating. “Of course,” I say, blinking at him. “Why wouldn’t you…?”

His dark eyes lift to meet mine, and there’s something raw and unguarded in his expression. “Because I don’t want you to think I’m saying this just because we’re touching,” he explains. “I need you to believe me. To know that I mean it.”

“Oh,” I murmur, my voice barely audible. “Okay.”

He takes a breath, his hands hovering in the air between us before finally settling over mine, warm and steady. “You…” He pauses, frowning, like he’s wrestling with words too big for him to wrangle. “We hardly know each other, and yet…I feel like I know you. I think from the moment we met, I saw something in you. Your strength. Your will. The pain you’ve carried, and how you’ve fought through it, over and over again—not just for yourself, but for the people you love.”

I stare at him, my breath catching in my throat. He squeezes my hands gently, grounding me as he continues.

“And I saw something else in you, too,” he says, his voice quieter now. “Something that I recognized in myself. That willingness to challenge people, to push back against the world even when it feels impossible. That fire. It’s…it’s humbling, Tilda.”

His words falter, and he lowers his head, resting it lightly against my knee. His grip on my hands tightens as if he’s holding on for dear life. I sniffle, startled to realize that a single tear has slipped down my cheek, warm against my skin.

“You’ve already made me a better man, and you’ve only been here a few weeks. That’s why I know this isn’t just my wolf, or pheromones, or anything like that. I can only call it love.”

I huff out a tearful breath, laughing a little at how emotional I’ve gotten. I’m really not a cryer, and this is pretty out of the ordinary for me…but what else is new? I’m breaking norms every fucking day lately. Reyes looks up at me like he’s used to making people cry, and I figure he must be…he is a priest after all.

I put my hands on his face and draw him up to me, until he’s just inches away. “Is it bad that I really just want to fuck your brains out right now?” I ask.

He laughs, his gaze heated. “Not at all,” he growls.

Another second, and he’s covering my mouth with his in a searing kiss. Reyes presses me into the sheets as he crawls over me, his knee sliding between my legs. I’m wearing a sundress, and the scrape of denim over my underwear makes me moan into his mouth.

“Funny—I was thinking the same thing,” he murmurs.

He kisses me hard as he unbuttons my dress, a line of delicate button loops lining the front of it. He growls possessively when he reveals the fresh bite mark on my breast, lapping at it and sending waves of pleasure across my skin.

“Reyes…” I murmur. “Wait—we should talk.”

He pauses, then sits up—like he’s remembered who he is, like he’s not a beast.

I kind of feel like one right now, regardless.

“Of course,” he says, dragging his eyes away from my exposed cleavage with some effort. “Right. What did you want to talk about?”

“Earlier,” I say, “you said something about not telling you what to do because my powers of suggestion were growing? Does that mean…?”

His eyes widen, and he holds his forehead like he’s got a headache. “Oh—I almost forgot, with the conversation at dinner and what we did in the barn…”

Kinda cute that he has to refer to it as ‘what we did.’

“I think it has something to do with the bite,” he says. “I thought my power as Alpha Prime was infallible—I have to avoid telling people what to do on accident because of it. But earlier today, when you told me not to move, I think it happened to me.”

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