The Alpha’s Heart (Stolen Mates #3)

9. Mate

CHAPTER 9

MATE

M y hands are on fire .

Considering my head is throbbing, my neck is twisted, and I feel cut off from wolf for some awful, terrible reason, I shouldn’t be able to pinpoint which one is worse. My nose is stuffed, my ears so muffled, it’s like someone shoved cotton in them, and my wolf… I can’t sense her.

It’s like she’s gone. My other half, the inner wolf that’s kept me company whether I’m in my fur or my skin… I can’t reach her.

And, yet, it’s the pain on my wrists that has me starting to panic the most.

My eyes spring open. It takes a second for me to recognize what I’m staring at. It’s the roof of a car. Beneath my ass, there’s a leather seat. The road is bumpy. Are we even on a road? The vehicle is reverberating like we’re on wooded terrain instead?—

Oh, Luna. No.

It all comes back to me in a rush. Declan. The messages. The monster he became, and the words I never would’ve thought I’d hear him say.

And the pain. Goddess, the pain .

I jerk my hands, trying to see what’s wrong with them. They’re heavy. I’m burning and I can barely move them. Worse, I’m laying on my beck, and I have a hard time rising up from my supine position. My head is resting in something, and even though my nose isn’t working right, I scent…

Lemon .

The panic triples. I kick out with my feet, trying to find purchase so I can get up. When that doesn’t work, and I’m gritting my teeth to keep back the screams of agony, I smash my head backward.

A human hand pats the top of my head before fingers run through my mussed hair, pinning me on something bumpier and harder than the seat of a car.

“Careful, Sofe. Don’t want to hit the goods, baby. Not when we’re going to need them later.”

The… the goods ? Wait. Am I… is my head in his lap?

I twist, not giving a shit that my swift motion has his fingers catching my hair. Compared to the excruciating pain in my hands, that’s nothing, and I even look past that for a second when I see a steering wheel out of the corner of my eye—and a pair of jeans-covered knees.

I am in a lap.

No. He has me sprawled out along the front seat of a car—no, I remember, not car, truck —as he drives me who knows where. My wolf is gone. I want to gnaw off my hands with fangs I don’t have,

“Let me… let me up.”

“Shh, baby. Go back to sleep. We’ve only just started to drive home.”

Home? Home ? “I am home. Declan… unh.” My vision is going hazy. The truck jolted, my hands moved, and a renewed wave of pain has me hissing in a breath. “What did you do to me?”

“It’s the chains, Sofe.”

Chains?

No. He… he wouldn’t. Most packs have a pair of unbreakable silver chains they use whenever an Alpha or other dominant wolves are on the cusp of being feral. They temper our wolves, forcing us to get under control; if we don’t, the chains keep us from tapping into our wolves, diminishing the sudden threat exponentially. However, because they’re made of silver, we have to be careful. Prolonged exposure to the element can eat right through a shifter. That’s why, even when a raging Alpha takes the chains, they’re careful to put padding around the shackles to keep from burning their skin.

I guess Declain didn’t bother protecting my wrists. He just slapped a pair on me, almost as though punishing me for choosing to go to my fated mate.

Just as I have that though, he confirms it.

“I’m so sorry, but you forced me to do it. If you would’ve just answered me… if you would’ve just figured that this Alpha was no good for you, that I’ve always been the male you deserved… but you didn’t. First, you teased Guy, letting him think he had a chance. Silly Sofia. Like I’d let that happen. But then you left me. You. Left. Me. And for what?”

“You know what. For my fated mate.”

Wrong answer, Sofia.

Declan tugs my hair.

I can’t stop my scream from escaping. That hurt, but the way he jolted me entire body, intensifying the pain on my hands, made it impossible for me to swallow that scream.

“I didn’t want a response, thank you. I know why you left. Fucking Luna, having to mess everything up for me. But you, Sofe… you should’ve known better. But you didn’t. That’s okay. I have you know. I won. And nothing will come between us ever again.”

I hate to admit it, but Declan’s not wrong. For the moment, at least, it definitely seems as though he did win. Kendall is in River Run. Bishop might be back in Hickory by now, but who knows how far I am away from his territory. And Guy?—

It takes everything I have to focus on words instead of the pain. But I have to know.

“Where is Guy?”

“Somewhere in Tennessee, I guess. That’s where I booted him from the truck. Not before I smashed his phone to bits so he could stop warning you I was coming.” Declan’s chuckle is eerie, a hint of the feral back in it. “Should’ve just gone along with the plan. He challenges Dupuis for you, he dies, you realize you could never be happy with a monster for a mate, and I get the female. But no. Everyone had to mess this up.”

Declan slams the steering wheel with the flats of his palm. He takes a deep breath, calming enough to keep his feral side back.

The conversation tone he adopts as the silver eats its way into my flesh is somehow even worse.

“But that’s okay. I have you with me. We’ll find a nice shelter to hunker down, I’ll bond you to me tonight, and we can forget all this unpleasantness ever happened. Kendall doesn’t need to know. When you’re wearing my bite, Bishop will lose all interest. It can be just you and me, Sofe, like I planned.”

I’d rather die.

He’s insane. I figured he was, going feral as he did, but to think that he can force me into a mating? That’s not how it works. Our Luna has to bless a mating for it to be finalized. When the moon is full, shifters mate and mark their partners, and then ask and receive the Luna’s blessing… that’s what makes a mate.

He could force me to sleep with him. He could mark me all he wants. I’d heal any bite he gave me, and the second I could use my claws on his cock, I would. It wouldn’t matter anyway. Without a blessing there is no bond.

He has to know that. Does he care? I… don’t think so.

And that makes him even more dangerous.

I have to get up. I have to get out of here. Bishop, I think, on the edge of becoming delirious. I have to get to Bishop?—

The truck suddenly bucks. No. It buckles . Metal scrapes and crunches, like an aluminum can being crushed. I nearly fall off of Declan’s lap. Most of me does, including my lower half and the wicked chains burning me, until I’m halfway on his lap and halfway on the floor of the truck.

He starts to howl. I hear that tell-tale snapping of bones from earlier, and as his lemon scent becomes bitter, I use his distraction to heft myself up, throwing my body against the passenger side door.

And that’s when I see what we hit.

If you would’ve asked me, I’d say he slammed into a tree. Not quite. There, standing in the middle of the path Declan had been moved down through the trees, is a looming Alpha with murder etched into every line of his handsome face.

Bishop .

The truck crashed around his legs and torso. He’s so strong that, planting his boots in the dirt, bracing his body against impact, he took the brunt of the pack truck slamming into him and destroyed it without even a scratch on him.

His eyes are glowing, a dangerous orange shade, similar to hot lava. His hands flex, claws erupting from the ends of his fingers the second he sees my disheveled head popping up from the bottom of the truck’s cab.

I see his lips move. Over the roar of pain in my head, I’m pretty sure he says, “Cher,” an instant before he reacts.

One second, Bishop is standing in front of the wreck of the truck. The next? He’s standing at the driver’s side, ripping the whole Luna damn door off the hinges. He flings it, reaching into the cab.

Claws lash Declan by the back of his neck. Bishop muscles the smaller wolf out of the driver’s seat, tossing the dazed shifter a good fifteen feet away from him.

And then he turns his ferocity on me.

He’s so close. All I want is to go to him, but the damn silver chains are blocking the way. To get to him, I’d have to manuever them into a position that would only burn me more—but that’s not a problem for my male.

Alpha chains are supposed to be unbreakable. Silver saps our strength on contact. Between that and the pain, no one can grab one of these chains and break them.

No one, it seems, except for Bishop.

He climbs into the cab, taking the length of chain between two of his hands. It sizzles, the scent of burning skin filling the cab; I must’ve been used to mine, but Bishop’s makes my stomach twist. I don’t want him to hurt, but before I can whisper out a warning, he yanks.

The chains snap.

One shackle, then the next. It doesn’t matter that Bishop is destroying his own hands. He doesn’t stop until he has both of the shackles off of me, revealing the blistered and raw skin underneath.

For a second, Bishop goes still. Like a predator, he shuts down, taking in the entire scene in a blink of an eye. Ghosting his ruined fingers over my burned hands, he murmurs my name this time, then backs out of the cab.

His head spins, nostrils flaring, his body growing even bigger as he throws back his head and roars.

My hands will heal. They’re already starting to. Without the silver holding me back, I throw open my own door, climbing out of the cab as Bishop lets out his rage at finding me like this.

My wolf is back, and so is our bond. I can sense the terror that overwhelmed Bishop, the need to come after me, the worry that slammed into him when he first felt me leaving back territory, then when I disappeared entirely.

He came for me. Because he’s my mate… because he loves me… he came for me.

And now he’s howling because, without even understanding what happened, he knows that this is fault.

It’s not. I’d explain it if I could, but there’s no reasoning with an Alpha like this. He thought he lost his mate. He found her with another male, trapped in chains. As furious as he is with himself, it’s clear I was another victim.

And, Luna damn it, he blames himself for that, too.

“Bishop.” His name is a croak. “Bishop, please . I need you.”

That’s all I have to say. Over his roar, he hears my pleas.

“Sofia,” he rumbles. He turns, starting for me.

Did I think that I was afraid of Bishop Dupuis when the big, bearded shifter first flared his nostrils and, catching other males’ scent on my skin, lost control enough that he snarled at me?

Only… I’m not afraid of Bishop.

But Declan should be.

Was he faking? I don’t know. He’s still a shifter, and ferals are stronger than they should be. Being tossed from the truck might not have done as much damage as Bishop hoped, but whether he was faking or not, as Bishop comes bounding toward me, Declan moves .

One second, he was flat on his back. The next, his clothes are exploding into tatters as the force of his shift from skin to fur tears them off his back. Running on all fours, baring fangs at his perceived rival, he launches himself at Bishop.

Bishop, who was so focused on getting to me, he never noticed Declan stirring again.

“No!”

I’m too late. Either that, or Decaln was just too fast.

Alpha challenges have a whole bunch of unwritten rules. The biggest one that every shifter knows? Is that, whatever shape you challenge in, that’s the shape you fight in.

Declan shifted to his sleek and slender grey wolf to jump onto Bishop’s back. My mate howls as his claws sink into his back, Declan’s fangs trying to tear out Bishop’s throat, but he doesn’t fall. Instead, reaching behind him, blood spraying all over the grass, the dirt, and the leaves, Bishop rips Declan’s wolf off of him.

Declan lands with yip , scrabbling to get back into a standing position. I guess it’s a good thing that he’s his wolf. Good for Bishop, that is. I have faith in my Alpha, but even a broken feral might give him a little trouble. A delta in his fur? There’s no contest once Bishop arches his back and, in a split second, shifts to his oversized red wolf shape.

A challenge like this has only one ending. With the pain finally starting to subside, my wolf lending me her senses again, I watch as witness, never looking away as Bishop eventually gets the upper paw, closing his jaws around the back of Declan’s neck.

One bite and my former best friend’s limp body is hanging from Bishop’s mouth.

As soon as he’s sure his challenger is dead, Bishop disappears into the woods with the body. Probably so that I don’t have to look at it any longer than I have to, which is nice—but unnecessary. I’m still a wolf, after all, and even a maternal delta respects a fairly fought challenge.

Especially after the challenger tried to steal her.

I wait for Bishop by the mangled truck. When he’s gone longer than I expect, I drop down on the earth. That’s where he finds me when he comes padding back in his fur.

Once he’s made his way back to me, his snout nuzzles my raw wrists. They’re beginning to heal, and within an hour or so, they will be, but just the reminder that I was taken from him in chains… it hurts him almost as much as it hurt me.

Bishop whines. My big, fierce Alpha whines .

“It’s okay,” I coo. “You saved me. You hear that, Bishop? You saved me when I was too foolish to see the threat in front of me. You’re amazing. I couldn’t ask for a better protector.”

He drops his muzzle into my lap, still as his wolf.

He seems calmer, though, and I keep that gentle tone of voice as I slid my fingers into his scruff, pulling him closer. My wrists twinge a little with the motion, but it’s nothing compared to the fire from before so I suck it the hell up.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left Hickory. It was a mistake. I just… I didn’t want you to have to deal with my trouble. And that was dumb. Real dumb. You ask me for help with the pack every day. You’re responsible for so many. I just wanted to do this so you wouldn’t have to.”

Bishops flicks his ears, growling softly.

“I know. You promised me that I could be safe here. That you would always protect me. But what happened today… it wasn’t me saying I doubt you can. It’s just… I was trying to protect you, my mate.”

His tail flicks angrily. I know what that means, too.

He’s the Alpha. He’s supposed to be the protector. And I get that. I do. I’m happy to let him be my protector. Seeing the aftermath of what he did to that truck… now that I’m okay, Bishop is here, and Declan is gone… I can admit that seeing how strong he is, knowing he’s willing to kill to keep me, to avenge me… I’ve never been more turned-on in my life.

It’s a shifter thing, and though I know we’ll be bonded by the end of tonight if I have anything to say about it, I… I just can’t wait.

Bishop must be able to tell. Though he’s still revving in place, the adrenaline from the fight riding him as hard when he’s a wolf as his beast does when he’s in his skin, his snout drops back to my lap. He digs it into my crotch, and even though I still have my jeans on, he rumbles notably as though he can scent just how much I want him.

Oh, wait. He’s an Alpha wolf with an immaculate sense of smell. Of course he can.

I still have my fingers twined in his scruff. Jerking on his head, I lift him up so that I can meet his wolf’s eyes.

Then, in a throat voice that leaves nothing to the imagination, I wiser, “Come back to me, my love. I need you.”

That’s all I have to say before, suddenly, I have a naked Alpha in my lap.

He didn’t come back on his feet. Instead, as though he can’t bear to be separated from the source of my arousal, he’s crouched low, our faces inches apart as his bare feet dig into the dirt.

If I had any doubt that rescuing his damsel in distress and vanquishing her villain would be an aphrodisiac for my own personal bearded Prince Charming, they’re gone the second my gaze dips low.

My tongue darts out, licking my bottom lip as I get my first sight of Bishop’s gorgeous big body, plus a cock that’s fully erected.

The tiniest twinge of nervousness flashes through me. He’s big and he’s thick there, just like he is everywhere else, and I have a fleeting suspicion that we won’t fit. But then I remember that the Luna wouldn’t have picked him for me if we were incompatible in such a way. Besides, I could survive silver leaving welts and blisters on my wrists. To find out what it’s like to mate this male… the make him mine before the Luna blesses our mating… it might be worth the pinch.

I’m a shifter. I can handle pain. I can handle his lusts. His wild side. His possessive wolf.

What I can’t handle?

Bishop rocking back on the balls of his feet, that delicious-looking cock getting further away from me as I make the executive decision to reach down and tug my sweater up and over my head.

Nudity isn’t a big deal for shifters. If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m fond of this outfit, I’d just shift from skin to fur and back again to get naked as quickly as possible. Instead, I remove the sweater, reach behind me to unclasp my bra, and I’m standing up, working my jeans down my hips when Bishop turns his head away.

He’s not rejecting me, I tell myself. He can’t be. Not after everything we’ve been through… right?

“Bishop. Please. I told you, my love. I need you.”

His cheeks hollow. Reaching down, almost as though he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, he grabs his cock, stroking it roughly with his hand. My injuries are half-healed. As Alpha, his properties are far more advanced. There’s no sign he ripped a pair of silver chains off of me bare-handed, but at the memory of his brute strength, another wave of lust crashes into me.

There goes my jeans. My panties.

Any pretense that I’m not dying to have this male dominate me and show me that, no matter what, I’ll always be his.

I go down on all fours. Presenting my ass to Bishop, knowing instinctively that he’ll never be able to resist, I toss him a pleading look over my shoulder.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The same mouth that ended Declan Slate. The same hand that saved me… “I can’t, cher.” Walking on his knees toward me, cock leading the way, he heaves out a breath. “I shouldn’t .”

Yes, he can.

Yes, he should.

Yes, he better .

We’re shifters. I just watched him kill my lifelong friend. Maybe it wouldn’t make sense to a human, but in the aftermath of Declan showing just how thin line there is between sane and feral, unmated and loved, lost and treasured… I need Bishop in every way that counts.

He protected me.

He came for me.

He’s my mate—and I’m not waiting until the Luna rises tonight to make my claim on him.

“Please,” I say again, and when he gets behind me, I know I have him.

He lodges his cock at my entrance. I’m slick and I’m hot, and it takes everything I have not to rear back, taking all of him inside of me at once.

Bowing his body over mine, hands braced on either side of me, he assumes the most natural position for our kind—and then he waits.

“What about the Luna Ceremony?” he grunts. “The gammas went through a lot of trouble for us.”

I keen, needing more of him to fill me. Even so, he has a point.

“Are you telling me you won’t want to do this again tonight? To mate me, to mark me, to claim me?”

His answer is in the way he slams his entire length inside of me and, holy Luna, do we fit.