Page 3 of The Alpha's Silent Mate

It’s only at night, when I’m sure everyone is asleep, that I risk slipping out to use the bathroom and to scrub myself clean.

But during the day, my place—my sanctuary—is under the bed.

Every day, I creep out a little further.

Shay must know, because he doesn’t have to push the tray as far as he did before, but he never comments on it. He removes the tray from the night before and replaces it with a new one.

Two months later, Shay steps around the door of my room and halts at the sight of a naked woman sitting on the edge of the bed instead of a wolf hiding under it.

The heat in his eyes triggers a slow, pulsing need inside me. Although my long, blonde hair covers me like a cape, I wish it didn’t. I wish I was standing so he could see me.Allof me.

“I was wrong,” he murmurs as his gaze returns to my face. “You’re no pup at all.”

He’s not the first to make that mistake. I’ve always been a small wolf, with dark brown fur which always surprises people because my human hair is blonde. Even when I turned nineteen, I was still the shortest woman in the pack at five feet. Petite. That’s what everyone called me.

Before they all died.

Before you killed them all.

“My mate is a beautiful woman.” His lips curve in a smile, and I duck my head as a blush sears my cheeks.

I tense a little at his approach, but I don’t move away. He’s had two months to prove that he’s no threat to me, so I don’t treat him like one.

A soft blanket settles lightly over me, and Shay—dressed in a pair of black sweats, a gray t-shirt, and his long white-blond hair touching his shoulders—sinks into a crouch in front of me. “I brought some clothes for you before, but I don’t think any of them will fit. I’ll fix that.”

That’s what alphas do. They fix things. My dad was the same way.

If I’d been a little braver, I would have explored the door that must lead to the closet. But the only place I’ve ventured in a bedroom bursting with bright green plants in clay pots is the bathroom.

And even there, I never lingered.

Whatever clothes he'd had someone fill the closet with would be nice. They’d smell as fresh and clean as the ones Shay always wears.

“Can I have a name?” he murmurs, drawing my gaze back to his.

It sounds like a straightforward question, but it’s not. I chew on my lower lip because I didn’t think this through before I climbed out from under the bed. But I should have.

He misreads my apprehension. “You don’t have to be afraid. Not of me, or of anyone here. You’re safe now.”

And that’s when I decide what to do.

After a quick scan of the bedroom reveals that the thing I need isn’t here, I rise from the bed and hold my hand out between us, palm side up.

As Shay gets to his feet, his eyes search mine, as if he wants to make sure this is what I want. When I do nothing but wait, he touches his palm to mine.

I watch as his hand swallows mine in a strange daze. It doesn’t feel real that he’s here. Shay. My mate. Some wolves never find theirs, but I’ve been lucky enough to find mine.

“Mate,” he murmurs.

Two halves of the same whole.

The moment stretches until I realize how much time has passed. Shaking my head, I turn and lead him to the door he stepped through minutes before.

I’m reaching for the handle when a large, tanned hand beats me to it. Shay pulls the door open, and I step through it and into an oasis.

Or it would be, if it wasn’t bustling with people.

Men, women, and children spread out across a lush garden. They sit talking and laughing on stone benches and lean against the white stone wall which circles it, between the bright bushes of wildflowers and plants.

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