Page 4 of The Alpha's Silent Mate

On a beautiful blue-skied day with no clouds in the sky, there’s no excuse for anyone to be inside. Dozens of them. There must be at least sixty people here. Maybe more.

But it feels at least twice that when they swing their heads toward me.

I back up, my eyes on the ground as whispers start. They soon gain momentum, spreading as fast as the wildflowers must grow. All are about me. Mostly about my eyes, which always surprise people when they meet me for the first time.

Violet with blue flecks.

Mom used to tell me I must be the only one in the world with eyes like it. Dad said the only thing more beautiful were the stars.

Until you killed him, just as you’ll kill this pack if you don’t leave.

Their attention smothers me until I can’t breathe. I’m embracing my wolf so I can shift and run, but Shay sweeps me into his arms, his hold firm and secure. I inhale the scent of his skin, and my heart stops pounding so hard. “Everyone go. Ewan, not you.”

I press my face against his throat because it feels like the perfect place to hide. Shay stalks us forward, and as he does, I feel movement away from us. He could have taken me back into the bedroom, but maybe he thought if he did that, I would never leave it again.

He was right.

The stone bench is cool beneath the thin blanket Shay wrapped me in. When I lift my head, only Shay and the man who swore and nearly lost his tongue for it are in the courtyard.

Ewan. He must be Shay’s beta, if he’s the only one who could stay.

Shay’s fingers on the side of my face pulls my attention from the red-haired and green-eyed beta to find he’s once again crouched in front of me. “You wanted to show me something?”

I shake my head.

His eyes dip to my lips. “You can’t talk.”

I shake my head no, even though it’s a lie. Once I spoke. But that was in another life, before I became the girl who killed her pack. So I don’t talk.

Not anymore.

Shay’s eyes find mine. “Do you sign?”

I shake my head no.

“Did your pack have a teacher?”

Clever.

I nod. We shifters don’t go to public school. Our history has taught us again and again that the safest place for a shifter is with the pack. Each pack has a teacher so the children can learn how to read, write, and how to do sums. Anything else would just be a waste of time when we spend our days living in the forests.

He tilts his head to the side. “Ewan?”

“Alpha?” His beta’s response is immediate. I don’t look away from Shay, just as his eyes never leave mine.

“Get a pad and pen,” Shay says.

Gravel crunches as Ewan steps off the grass and onto the stone path that winds around the garden. Shay’s voice stops him before he can take another. “A small pad. One that’s easy for my mate to hold. And a pouch so she can carry it with her, whether she’s human or a wolf.”

It feels like Ewan is gone only a second before the gravel once again announces his return. He's clutching a small pad, a pen, and a small black pouch with a long strap that I can slip on my shoulder or hang from my neck when I’m a wolf. He hands it all to Shay before retreating a step.

Shay’s eyes are sober as he places everything in my palms. “You don’t have a voice, but with this, you do.”

He tempts me to break my promise with those words. But instead of speaking, I take the pad and pen from him.

I feel his eyes on my hands as I write four letters. Before I turn the pad around and show him, I’m almost positive I don’t need to. That he was reading as I wrote.

He lifts his head from the pad, and his eyes smile into mine. “Hello, Lexa.”

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