Page 13 of The Alpha's Bounty
“Does it… hurt?”
“No,” he says without hesitation.“Feels like stretching after you’ve been sitting too long.Like going from wrong to right.”
I shiver, not because it sounds scary, but because there’s something in his voice when he says it.Like shifting isn’t simply something he does, it’s who he is, as much as breathing.
“And you said fated mates are… what, exactly?”
He shifts on the cushion, leaning closer to me as he rests his elbows on his knees.
“You’re my person.You’ve heard of soulmates?”I nod.“It’s like that, but it’s a science.Kind of.I smelled you, and my bear and I knew you were meant to be ours.We’re literally fated to be together.No one will make you happier than me.No one will love you more or better.I would do anything for you.Only you.There’s never been anyone else, and there never will be.Shifters only ever love one person.”
I look down at the plate, suddenly very aware of the thud of my heart.“And you think that’s me.”
His eyes don’t waver.“I don’t think it, Mina.I know it.”
I pick up half the sandwich so I have something to do with my hands.“That’s… a lot.”
“I imagine it is.”
“It’s so sudden.So… definite,” I say, trying to process all that he’s told me.
“I know it is for you.For me, though, it feels like it’s been a lifetime.Probably because it has.I’ve waited my whole life to find you.”
My stomach growls, and I blush, embarrassed.
Cyrus smiles.“Come on.I’ll make you another sandwich, and we can talk.”
I follow him into the kitchen, sitting on the same stool from earlier.He quickly makes me another sandwich, setting it in front of me with a smile.He seems to truly love taking care of me.It’s weird, but also nice.
I take a bite and chew slowly, trying to work out if I believe him.The problem is, I don’t think he’s lying.
He was telling the truth about being a shifter.He’s going to help me with the court stuff.Everything that Cyrus has said or done since we met has been honest and with my best interests in mind, so yeah, I believe him on this, too.
That also explains my sudden feelings for him.I mean, I’ve never so much as looked twice at a boy before, but as soon as I met Cyrus, I didn’t want to look away.
He waits until I’m halfway through the sandwich before speaking again.“My turn.”
I swallow warily.“Your turn for what?”
“Answers.”
“About what?”I ask, even though I already know deep down.
“About the court.About whatever happened back there.”
My instinct is to shut down immediately, but he’s looking at me like he’s offering something solid in return for whatever I give him.
I push the plate away.“I don’t—” I shake my head.“I’m not great at talking about it.”
“Maybe not,” he says, voice steady, “but I need to understand what happened.So I can help.”
I should tell him no.I should keep it locked away where no one can use it against me.That’s what I’ve always done.But something about the way he stands there, feet planted, arms loose at his sides but ready, eyes locked on mine, makes the words spill.
So I tell him.
About the houses I lived in.The way I was treated like free labor, how the checks meant to help me lined the pockets of my foster parents.About the coffee can under my bed and how it felt to come home and find it gone.The rage I swallowed every day for years, waiting for my eighteenth birthday so I could finally leave.
I tell him about taking the money back.How I didn’t even make it past the county line before the cops had me in the back of a cruiser.The cold cell and the way the charges were twisted to make me the villain.And then about running.The towns, the odd jobs, the constant fear of seeing my name on some noticeboard.
