Page 53 of The Alpha's Sin
She’s still sleeping with her head pillowed against my chest, her lips parted just slightly. Her hair spills over my shoulder like silk, tickling my skin, and her hand rests light as a feather on my ribs. There’s a peaceful look on her face—contentment, innocence, happiness—that makes something deep inside me ache.
God, she’s so fucking beautiful.
A rush of tenderness floods me so strongly it hurts. I’ve never wanted to protect anyone the way I want to protect her. I’d fight the whole damn world if it meant keeping that smile on her face—keeping her safe.
And then the guilt creeps in.
Last night…we went too far. Way too far.
I held her, filled her, took her like she was mine when by every law I’ve ever been taught, she isn’t. The Unbreakable Laws are clear, and I bent them—nearly broke them outright. I did everything but knot her.
But when I look down at her, when I see the peace in her expression and feel her body relaxed and safe against mine, the guilt starts to fade.
Because the truth is, she needs this.
She needs me.
The doctor said she needed an Alpha’s touch, and damn it, I’m giving it to her! If this is what it takes to keep her healthy—if this is what it takes to protect her and the pup growing inside her—then I’ll do it. Every night, every time she asks, I’ll give her what she needs.
Everything but my knot.
That’s the last barrier, the one line I can’t cross. Knotting her—breeding her—wouldn’t just bend the laws, it would shatter them. And I can’t do that, not even for her.
But I won’t feel guilty anymore for filling her, for taking care of her the way she needs. Who’s ever going to know? The Pack doesn’t come around, and Dirk—useless bastard that he is—isn’t here.
It’s just me and Poppy.
And I’ll give her everything I can, everything she craves, everything she deserves…except my knot.
I press a kiss into her hair and hold her closer, making a silent vow.
She’s mine now, whether the laws say so or not.
42
POPPY
It’s Saturday morning and for once neither of us has work. The house feels quiet, golden light pouring in through the blinds, Logan’s big, muscular body is wrapped all around me like a warm, heavy blanket.
I decide it’s my turn to take care of him. He always cooks dinner for me, or runs out to grab whatever craving I mention, at the drop of a hat—it’s only fair I make him breakfast.
I slip out of bed and put on one of his t-shirts—it falls to mid thigh on me.
“Hey, baby,” he says sleepily and I turn to see him looking at me. “Where are you going?”
“To make you some breakfast, I say lightly. “You hungry?”
“Fucking starved!” He sits up, yawns and stretches. “I’d say we both worked up an appetite last night.”
I laugh and blush at the same time when I remember how needy I was. But Logan doesn’t seem to mind. He gets up and pulls on a pair of long sleep bottoms.
“Lead the way,” he rumbles. “I’m more than ready.”
“Come on, then.”
I pad into the kitchen, barefoot, and open the fridge. I survey the contents and I’m glad we just went grocery shopping a day ago.
“How do you feel about scrambled eggs, bacon, and blueberry pancakes?” I call over my shoulder.
