Page 25 of The Alpha's Silent Mate

No. It’s not.

I had a nightmare, and I—

Awareness hits with the force of a punch, and I gasp, ripping my hands away from my face. I struggle to my feet, my eyes everywhere at once because we’re in danger. We have to be in—

Shay’s hands grip my arms, halting me before I can rise. Despite the heavy rain soaking us, he looks as calm as always. “We’re safe.”

My eyes search his face just to make sure he’s not just saying it because it’s what I want to hear. At the same time, I cast my senses out. It takes a painfully long time before I can trust my nose and my ears.

Aron isn’t waiting close by, ready to attack. No one is around.

Even the wild animals have sought shelter in a storm as fierce as this.

But that’s just luck. I could’ve run straight into danger and Shay would have followed. I could have led him to his death.

“I’m going to pick you up now. Okay?” Shay waits for my response.

Wanting him to just leave me here for being stupid enough to do something so reckless, I close my eyes and nod.

He slides his arm around my back and the other under my thighs before lifting. As he does, my ankle flares with sharp, hot pain. I choke back my cry and turn to press my face against his throat, hoping he doesn’t notice.

When he says nothing, I think maybe he hasn’t.

It isn’t until he’s carried me back to the cabin—a further distance than I’d expected—and settled me in a chair in front of the low burning fire, all without saying a word, that I realize something is wrong. Shay never goes that long without talking to me.

The only time he was this silent was when he was cleaning my face in the bathroom after I ran away.

He moves away just long enough to grab a fur from the bed and wrap it around my shoulders before dropping to a crouch in front of me. “How bad does it hurt?”

I keep my eyes on my lap.

“Lexa?”

Shaking my head, I will him to just drop it. I wish I had my pad so I could tell him I just want to go to bed. In the time I’ve been with the Clayfells, I’ve learned how much easier it is to lie when you don’t have to worry about anyone hearing it in your voice.

He rests his hand on my knee. “Lexa, look at me.”

There’s an order in his voice I’m not used to hearing when he speaks to me, so I lift my gaze from my knees.

For several seconds, he studies me in silence. “It’s okay to have a nightmare that scares you. You did nothing wrong. No.” He shakes his head. “There was one thing you did wrong.”

Run outside and nearly get us both killed?

“You tried to hide your hurt from me.”

I blink in surprise.

“Don’t do that again. Not with me, okay?”

After a moment, I nod.

His expression softens. “Good. Now let's have a look at this ankle.”

And he does.

His touch is gentle as he examines me. “It’s a bad twist,” he murmurs with his eyes still on my swollen ankle. “I’ll wrap it for you so it doesn’t hurt if you knock it in bed.”

In a couple of hours, likely even less than that, my ankle would’ve healed already, so him wrapping it is only making more work for himself. After waking to find his mate running naked out of the cabin, and then having to chase her down and carry her back, he’s done enough. More than enough.

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