Page 8 of Alpha Unchained
He comes closer, so close I can feel the heat rolling off him. “Let me try.”
“I don’t want you to try, Luke. I want you to stay away if you’re going to leave again. I can’t keep putting myself back together.”
For a long moment, neither of us speaks. His eyes are dark, searching mine, and everything unsaid crackles in the space between us.
Finally, he says, “I’m not walking away this time.”
I want to believe him. I want to believe in us. But the wound he left in me hasn’t even started to scab over, and I’ve learned the hard way what his promises are worth. “You say that now. But I’ve learned not to take promises from men who leave notes in the morning.”
I keep my gaze locked on Luke, daring him to flinch, to run, to fight for what he says he wants. I wait, and when he doesn’t move, I turn away. He stands there watching me, tense and unblinking, as if he’s waiting for me to make the next move.
I wonder if I will.
CHAPTER 3
LUKE
I’m barely out the bookstore door when I catch sight of Hudson’s SUV idling just down the block, engine still running like he’s expecting trouble. He’s propped against the hood, arms crossed over that broad chest, the kind of solid, unmoving presence that makes people think twice. There’s nothing hurried about him—just the quiet, deliberate patience he wears like armor, the kind he uses when he’s weighing what comes next.
Kate stands beside him, her red hair pulled into a messy knot that catches every stray glint of morning sun. Her arms are folded tight across her chest like she’s been standing there awhile—braced and ready for a fight. Her amber eyes are fixed on me, sharp as a hawk’s.
She’s got that set to her jaw that means she’s already decided where she stands—same look she wore when she went toe-to-toe with Dad after I took the fall for stealing his truck. Back then, she stood between me and the worst of it, dared anyone to challenge her loyalty. Now, that jaw is set against me. And even though I know why, some part of me still wishes she’d be in my corner—just once more.
She’s my sister, damn it. Family’s supposed to have your back, even when you don’t deserve it. The two of them—Hudson, all mountain stillness, Kate all wildfire and heat—look at me, and my breath catches, heart thudding against my ribs. My arms lower just a fraction, shoulders squared, jaw locked tight. The air around me feels too still, like it’s waiting for the next move. I don’t flinch, don’t snarl—just hold the line, every inch of me a quiet warning. a silent warning to stay back. Every muscle is tight, wound tense, bracing for the explosion I know I can't afford to let loose. like I’m both the fuse and the powder keg, like any wrong move could light us all up.
A restless energy coils inside me—feral and uneasy, straining at the edges of my control. Hudson watches with a steady gaze, like he’s bracing for me to snap. Kate’s chin lifts—defiant, protective. She used to lift it like that before she dared me to jump into the creek, before she talked me down from fights I was too angry to walk away from. Back then, it meant she had my back. Now it means I’m the one she’s guarding against. Their disappointment hits like a blow.
I don’t blame them. If I were in their shoes, I’d probably hate me, too. It doesn’t help that Kate’s looking at me like she wants to tear me apart, when part of me expects her to remember I’m her brother first. I need to make them understand marking Elena wasn’t something I planned—it was instinct, that primal wolf's urge that took over and changed everything. Getting her pregnant? That sure as hell wasn’t intentional either. Although truth be told, I don't regret either.
But what haunts me most is what I left Elena to face. I picture her waking up alone, body aching and unfamiliar, instincts roaring in her blood with no one to explain what was happening. No guide, no pack, no anchor. Just confusion and pain and fear. Every second I spent running was a second she spent unraveling. And I wasn’t there to stop it.
None of that makes the mess any easier to explain or forgive.
Kate doesn’t wait for me to speak. “Are you done causing more trouble? Or is this just the warm-up round? Because Elena doesn’t need any more chaos showing up on her doorstep—especially not from you.”
“Easy,” Hudson rumbles, but he doesn’t sound like he means it. There’s a flicker behind his eyes—something more than irritation. Concern, maybe. Or calculation. The kind of protective tension that only shows up when he's already three steps ahead, weighing every possible threat before it lands.
His gaze narrows, not on my face, but on the restless warning in my posture—shoulders set, body braced as if I’m expecting a challenge. I don’t do nervous tics; most true alphas don’t. It's not in their nature, but my muscles are tight, and every part of me is alert and ready, even as I force myself to stay still.
The last thing I need is for Hudson—or my sister for that matter—to see the truth: the real reason to doubt I’m in control isn’t about nerves or pack politics or even the syndicate. It’s that, deep down, I’m not sure I am. Not when it comes to Elena. Not with all the lines I’ve already crossed and everything I’m holding back. If they could see just how close I am to losing it—to letting instinct take over—they’d have every right to be wary.
Hudson knows exactly what’s simmering inside me—he’s an alpha, too. He understands what it means to rein yourself in, to hold that animal tension in check when it’s your own family looking you in the eye. He wants Kate to tread carefully, not just because we’re siblings, but because it’s never smart to challenge an alpha wolf when he’s this close to the edge, blood or not.
For a second, I almost feel sorry for both of them—Hudson, carrying the weight of the Rawlings pack, bound by duty and law, and Kate, McKinley by blood, but now Hudson's mate, first lady of his pack, and caught between the brother she grew up with and the man she’s chosen. The three of us—all pulledbetween family and the old pack laws that dig deeper than any blood tie.
I square my shoulders. “We need to talk. Now. Not out here.”
Kate scoffs, and we move as a unit—something that should feel instinctive, but doesn't. Not with the rift yawning between us like open ground. We’re going through the motions, but there’s no connected rhythm to it now—just muscle memory and the weight of everything unsaid. No one is really leading, just turning together toward Hudson’s SUV.
Hudson unlocks it, and I slide into the back—alone, the only passenger, boxed in by glass and the two of them up front. I feel like some suspect they’re hauling in for questioning. The interior still holds a faint scent of coffee and worn leather. The seat creaks subtly under Hudson’s weight. His thumb taps slowly against the steering wheel, steady as a metronome, grounding and tense all at once, and the cold trace of last night’s mountain air.
We don’t drive far. Hudson pulls the SUV into a quiet, shaded lot beside the old mercantile—Kate’s old apartment sits just above it, the windows shuttered and silent. Nobody else around. Just the three of us and a whole hell of a lot of unspoken words. Hudson kills the engine; the faint hum of the radio cuts through the silence like the honed edge of a blade.
Kate twists in her seat to face me, her glare razor-sharp. “So. You want to explain yourself?”
Hudson stays still, arms crossed, waiting for me to move first. I don’t. Instead, I brace myself and speak. “Elena and I were together—one night. I marked her. That’s what changed her.”
Kate’s mouth tightens, and her voice drops into something cold and clipped. “No shit Sherlock. We figured that out all by ourselves when we saw the bite mark on her neck after you left.”The bitterness in her tone hits like frostbite—sharp, restrained, and full of betrayal.
