Page 37 of The Alpha's Bullied Rejected Mate
“Mama needs protecting sometimes. She gets scared, but she tries not to show it.”
Marcus felt his chest tighten again. Without meaning to, he found himself really looking at the boy—noting the intelligence in those hazel eyes, the protective way he spoke about his mother, the quiet maturity that loomed around those small features.
“You love your mother very much,” Marcus observed.
“Yes! She’s the best mama in the whole world,” Riley said with absolute conviction.
The best.How ironic.
“Riley,” Aza called, finally moving from her fixed position, “it’s getting late, you should sleep now.”
This time, Riley obeyed, but not without giving Marcus a pouting look. “Uncle Marcus, will you tell me stories another night?”
Stories? What stories?
But, “Yes,” Marcus found himself saying, and the boy beamed.
How does one say no to those eyes?
He forced himself to remember that this child was magical, despite his innocent appearance. But looking at Riley’s bright smile, it was hard to reconcile that knowledge with reality.
The boy tugged something within him. He didn’t know what, but he didn’t hate the feeling.
Marcus watched Aza tuck Riley in, the moment of softness disappearing behind her defensive walls, but not before he’d seen the distress and worry she was trying so hard to hide from her son.
She was getting weak.
He had sensed it earlier after they ran from the demons, and his doubts had been confirmed, seeing that she couldn’t pull whatever trick she did with the cuffs earlier.
He concluded it was a result of the barrier she had put up, or if there was something else, he couldn’t tell.
The thought should have been tactically useful. A note in the mental dossier he was building about her: his target’s vulnerabilities. Something to exploit.
Instead, it made him feel something he knew he shouldn’t—sympathy.
Marcus shifted his weight from one foot. His arms folded tightly across his chest as he watched her stand from her position at the edge of the bed. The boy was fast asleep now.
She was unsteady on her feet, moving stiffly, as if every step cost her something. She walked to the door, closing it behind her, and he was right on her trail.
And then—she stumbled.
Marcus’s instincts moved faster than his thoughts.
One hand shot out, catching her waist before she hit the ground.
Their bodies collided, knocking the breath from both of them.
Her hand clutched his shoulder.
His palm remained firm against her side.
Their faces were close.
Too close.
Time warped in that suspended second. He could feel the warmth of her skin and the rapid beat of her pulse. His wolf growled.
Her eyes widened, startled.
