Page 132 of Alpha's Revenge Luna
She doesn’t turn to face me, her hand pausing mid-motion on the glass.
“I’m scared, Dion.”Her voice is barely above a whisper, a tremble betraying the fear she tries to conceal.“I’m scared you’ll get rid of me.”
“Is this because you believe you can’t give me children?I have told you I don’t care,” I tell her, slightly annoyed that this topic has come up twice today.
I move closer, the floorboards creaking under my weight.I watch her closely, searching for the right words.
I wrap my arms around Emery, pulling her away from the window and into a tight embrace.My chest presses against her back, and I feel the rhythm of her heartbeat against mine.“You are more than enough, Emery.You’re everything to me,” I murmur into her hair, letting the scent of her calm my own swirling thoughts.“And we have Caleb, he’s ours now, why are you so scared?”
With gentle pressure on her shoulders, I guide us toward the bathroom.The shower hisses to life at my touch, steam curling up toward the ceiling, fogging the mirror.Emery’s hand finds mine as I step into the shower.The steam rises around us, a soothing balm to Emery’s troubled thoughts.I feel her relax even further, her earlier fears washing away with each droplet of warmth that dances upon our skin.
Emery’s hands roam across my chest, mapping out every line and curve as if rediscovering a once-familiar terrain.My own fingers tangle in her wet hair, droplets splashing against our faces, mingling like our breaths.
I tilt her face up, my fingertips gently holding her chin.
I kiss her, and it’s like the first time all over again—the rush, the hunger, the sheer force of emotion that could never be tamed, only embraced.Her response is immediate.The taste of her mingles with the steam, a flavor unique to her essence, irrevocably etched into my soul.
Emery’s nails graze my back, drawing lines that only serve to pull me closer.
With the water streaming down, we lose ourselves in each other, finding comfort in the shared heat that both soothes and ignites.
As I hold her close, the rest of the world dissolves into insignificance.There is only Emery, the woman whose strength and vulnerability have wrapped themselves around my heart.And as we move beneath the shower’s torrent, I am reminded that no matter what lies ahead, this bond is the only thing worth living for.
Emery’s laughter, a sound that usually lifts the weight from my shoulders, cuts abruptly through the crisp air.I watch her clutch at her stomach, a sudden pallor washing over her sun-kissed face.Caleb, who had been tumbling in the grass with her, tilts his head in confusion, his young mind unable to comprehend the swift change.
“Emery!”I call out, already on my feet and closing the distance between us.She waves me off, a forced smile flickering on her lips, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Fine,” she gasps, even as she doubles over and darts for the seclusion of the packhouse’s shadowed side.My heart races, instincts honing in on her distress.I follow in quick pursuit, my hand reaching out to steady her as she leans against the cool brick, trying to catch her breath.
I rest a hand on her shoulder, feeling the tension knotted beneath my fingers.“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” I say, my voice firm.
She shakes her head.“Dion, really, I’m okay.Just...got a little dizzy, that’s all.”
I can hear the strain in her voice, see the effort it takes for her to stand upright.
She brushes off my concern with a shake of her head, strands of her hair sticking to the sweat on her brow.“I’m fine,” Emery insists, though her pallor tells a different story.
“Emery,” I start, frustration creeping into my tone, “you’re avoiding me.”My heart clenches at the widening chasm between us, an invisible force that seems to grow stronger each day.
She turns away, a silent denial in the set of her shoulders.But I know her too well; I feel the dissonance in our bond, the subtle but unmistakable shift within her.
Determined not to let this rift expand, I step closer and gently guide her toward the bathroom forcing her into the shower.The warm spray of the shower envelops us, steam fogging up the glass and dampening our skin.I watch as Emery’s defensescrumble, the scent of my skin mingling with the mist to awaken something primal within her.
“Feed, love,” I murmur, offering myself to her.As her fangs graze my skin, a rush of heat floods through me.It’s a shared surrender, an act that binds us closer than words ever could.
A FEW WEEKS LATER
Emery stirs beside me, her breath hitching in a familiarrhythm of discomfort.I open my eyes to the dimness of our bedroom, the quiet before dawn.She clutches her stomach and bolts upright, a soft moan escaping her lips.Concern swells inside me as I sit up and reach for her.
“Hey,” I whisper, brushing a stray hair from her face, “you’re sick again.”
She nods, a look of frustration etched across her beautiful features.I remember the strength that courses through her veins, a Hybrid vigor that is supposed to make her immune to such human frailties.However, here she is, vulnerable and pale, her body betraying her once more.
“Enough is enough,” I tell her, my voice firm but gentle.“I’m calling the pack doctor.”
Emery starts to protest, but one stern glance from me silences her objections.As much as she hates showing weakness, she knows not to argue about her health.I pull out my phone with a sense of urgency, dialing the familiar number.
The doctor arrives, carrying his bag.
