Page 17 of Broken Pregnant Mate
“That is mymateyou’re running your mouth about,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “So I suggest you shut your mouth before I make sure it’s wired shut permanently.”
Emaline goes still behind me, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m pulling her around, tugging my mask down to talk to her, tell her that everything will be okay.
Vern shouts something, but I can’t make it out, because Emaline surprises me, reaching up and taking my face in her hands. The sudden, physical jolt of her skin on mine is complete, drawing me into her, making my head stutter for a second before I can remember what’s going on.
“Aidan,” Emaline whispers, her eyes flicking back and forth between mine, her mask pulled down around her neck, too. “Hecan’tsee you—he could report back to Jerrod Blacklock.”
Of course. I was so distracted by the moment that I didn’t think about what she told me, about him being the one who took that photo of my fake head, of him being at Jerrod Blacklock’s place frequently enough that he might just recognize me from that bodiless head.
Even with the storm, he might be able to make me out. And that would ruin everything—not just for me, but for the Ambersky pack, who have put so much trust into me.
“Oh,” I say, then, when Vern takes another step toward us, I do the only thing I can think of to hide my face.
I grab Emaline around the waist, pull her in close to me, and press my lips to hers.
Of course, I could have just covered my face with the mask again, butthisis a much nicer way to take care of the problem. And with what that bastard was saying about her, I just want Emaline to know that I don’t care—that nothing about her past life will carry over here, if she doesn’t want it to.
She is warm and liquid, and melts against me instantly. A growl rises from the bottom of my throat, and a knowledge that I have always had rises within me—Emaline Smyth is my mate.
The only woman on this planet for me. The only lips I want to kiss, the only body I want to touch.
Maybe I knew it when we were kids, when she first arrived at the home, scared and alone. Or maybe that’s not something you can know until you get older. But, either way, I know the deepest, most universal part of the connection—the fact that we are soulmates—has been there from the very beginning.
As we got older, and I watched her grow into the woman she is today, I’d wanted nothing more than to kiss her. And I knew she wanted it, too, sidling closer to me, cuddling into me during those cold nights in the barn—but I couldn’t let her get too close.
The day I realized who I was—that I was a Grayhide—I knew that Jerrod Blacklock would stop at nothing to kill me. Which meant that, if I was too obvious about who I cared for, he would go after them, too.
If anyone finds out Emaline is my mate, she’ll be the number one person of interest. That’s why nobody can know—not even her. The second Blacklock finds out about it, she could be targeted and killed.
Just like his father did with my mother.
Emaline lets out a low noise in her own throat, gripping me tighter, hauling herself up to me, and I realize this kiss is quickly turning into something else. It’s not appropriate for the center of town.
When I hear the sound of Dorian’s voice, I pull back, breathing hard and pressing my cheek against Emaline’s, the soft press of it slightly wet. There are tears streaking down her cheeks, the sand gritty and dark, sticking to the tracks.
“What the fuck?”
Vern is shouting it, and Dorian says something else, something about him getting the hell out of town. I want to grab the fucker and twist him into a new shape, but the only thing I can focus on is the feel of Emaline under my hands, the knowledge that she’s safe.
A moment later, I resurface, the wind whipping around us growing stronger. Emin and Oren are behind Dorian, facing Vern and the other guys, while the Alpha leader moves toward us. I imagine them telling them to get lost, or they’ll regret it, and I wish I could be the one to teach them a lesson.
Emin’s copper hair is dusted with sand, and Oren’s all-black outfit is brown instead, even his hood draped with sand in the folds and crevices. Like Emaline and me, they’re wearing masks, and I realize the three of them must be walking through town to tell people about the storm, get them inside before it can get really bad.
Some of the other shifters seem to believe they’re invincible, that they’re the only ones who can survive the dust storms, and Dorian has to physically command them to get to safety.
Now, Dorian grabs me by the shoulder, his eyes flicking to Emaline for a second. He must see the tear tracks on her face, and I wonder if he makes a connection, that Vern and his guys are the ones who dragged her out to the border last year, the ones who put her in that awful situation to begin with.
“Well,” Dorian shouts, eyes locking back on me, the meaning clear in his voice. I realize he heard what I said—heard me telling Vern that Emaline is my mate. “That explains a lot, man. You’d better take your mate inside before this storm gets any worse.”
Chapter 8 - Emaline
I can barely think when Aidan shuts the door to his apartment, closing the dust out and closing us inside. The sound of the wind is instantly muffled, the howling much quieter on the other side of the door.
“Sorry,” Aidan rasps, but I hardly hear it.
My entire body is still shaking from what happened out on the street.
First, seeing Vern again. The shock of it, the way my body brought back everything I felt with him. Disgust, the rough pull of his hands over my body, the sting on my scalp when he’d wrap his hands in my hair and pull.
